halfchai

[halfchai]

My first ever typeface, inspired by and a tribute to the Old City in Ahmedabad - one of my favourite places. This was the outcome of the Principles of Typeface Design course by the brilliant Troy Leinster (Type@Cooper). The typeface is called Old city and is a bold, condensed display face with visible contrast; expansion model. I honestly have so much to say about this, but I'm going to save that for another post - for now I'm exhausted and can hardly keep my eyes open. This is just a glimpse, because I'm super excited to have come this far! It's been intense, a lot of hard work, so many revisions, but so rewarding. I have a VERY long way to go, but happy to take the small wins for now :) More soon. ------------- Big thanks to Troy, Yusuke and Stephanie for all the feedback, time and patience.

[halfchai]

I've been seeing my friend, Somesh shoot the nicest black and whites - beautifully candid moments amplified by wonderful contrast and grain. Recently he handed me prints of the pictures he shot at our very tiny wedding and it was a joy to put them in my studio instantaneously... and to look at them everyday. It's what my dad did for years. I realised how much I missed the tactility of images and I felt the urge to save little bits of my everyday. I already have Dhun's F3 which needs some love, but we needed up buying this little Olympus point and shoot with zoom (Olympus mju zoom, 35mm) and he very kindly loaded it with black and white film. It's been so exciting to wait in anticipation and rip open the package like a 4 year old. There's something immensely gratifying (strangely) that I'll have to shoot and exhaust the roll, have it developed and wait patiently to see what I shot. This is probably how I feel about coming back to the blog too. Instagram, since a while now, has started feeling like being invisible in a room full of people. It's just felt like noise. Ironically something built for sharing, made me not want to share so much. So I've found myself a smaller room, with fewer people (Halfchai) and it feels great. What one misses most, is not the fact that there are no eyes on what you've shared, but just the sheer joy of sharing something :) I'm thrilled to have that back because I do love making stuff and sharing stuff, especially when it's inconsequential (which it almost always is). Here's to making my way back to snail life and making more things for no reason.

[halfchai]

One of them

For someone who liked writing intermittently, I haven’t written anything in quite a while. Somewhere I wondered why anyone would want to read what I have to say and that perhaps made me feel like I really had nothing to say. And while that is still true, after living in my head for some time now and finding it as unruly, crowded, chaotic and inefficient as a Sarkari office, I’ve come to the (very obvious) realisation that I need a release. Much like the extended lunch break at said Sarkari office. It is not so much if someone reads it, as the act of putting it out there being rather cathartic. I don’t think I know why. For a while now I’ve been doing everything that needs doing, very little of what I want to be doing. Every time I justify to myself that I need to refuel and replenish, there’s always a part of my head that yells expletives at myself, basically saying I should suck it up and carry the f*@k on. I come from a family of extremely dignified, selfless, hard working people. My mum worked even when she was grievously ill - asking for her hand to be propped on the table. My dad worked through immense grief after Ma (all the while raising me), working through the night and sleeping while I was at school, so he could spend time with me in the day. My grandfather literally worked all his life, into his late 70s. My uncle held a bank job for 40 years and had copious amounts of leave accumulated when he retried. My aunt is 66 and still works - when she’s not working she’s tending to people who are sick or just feeding people. This ethic had a knock on effect and made its way into our generation too - the prime example being my brother who has worked 16-18 hour shifts most of his life. So when I tell myself that I’m tired, that I have nothing left, it is more a game of convincing myself that it is so, before guilt envelopes me and I tell myself that this is a cop out. I’m seldom sure of myself. I second guess most things I do and self doubt piggybacks on me freely, coming with me uninvited wherever I should choose to go. The only way I know of to quieten my head is to clean. I end up doing so zealously until I tire myself out. During my cleaning sprees around the house I would come across a magazine cover that I worked on in early 2019. It reminded me of things I didn’t want to remember and every time I tucked it away until I stumbled on it again. This was a cover for Caravan magazine. I wasn’t the designer that they had chosen, but one they settled on. But I didn’t care - I just wanted on opportunity to letter an artwork. It came at a difficult time, when Dhun and I frequented hospitals for treatment. The deadline was super tight and I still remember waiting for Dhun and telling him about the project as soon he was out and we walked towards the parking lot together. With a big smile, he said I must take it. So I did. I don’t remember too many specifics, but as is the case with most things, nothing went to plan. Dhun and I were very worn out with the year we’d had, my anxiety levels were through the roof and worked every spare minute I had. On the last day, I realised that I had put in enough work already to cruise through the day and meet my deadline. I was rudely jolted by an emergency where we had to rush Dhun to the hospital. I couldn’t have cared less about a magazine cover. In fact I wouldn’t have blinked if someone told me my career was over. All I wanted to do was call the client and say, figure it out, because I will not be able to do this so that I could focus on the one person that mattered to me most. We got through the day, like we always did, I came home and started working. In fact a lot of the work I did in the past year was in the waiting room at hospitals. No one knew, no explanations were given and it got done; so in a sense this wasn’t so new. The magazine went to press that night. At 11:30 or 12:00 at night I sent off the final files and Dhun and I sat down to dinner together - he’d waited for me till I finished all my work. I didn’t even like what I’d done, but given that it seemed like a miracle that it even got done without the client getting a whiff of anything brought me relief. My nerves were considerably frayed that day and all this cover did was remind me of producing something I was not happy with… and of a lot of heartache. Until now. What I didn’t mention earlier, was that when I was done, my very exacting father was very proud. He asked for a little jpeg to be sent to his phone. For once, it wasn’t about what I had produced, but who I had become. I had become one of them. For someone with crippling self doubt, I was sure in that moment, that I was my parent’s daughter. I know you’re supposed to validate yourself and all that, but somewhere I feel like we’re hardwired to seek validation in some sense and I sought it shamelessly from my dad (even though I probably wouldn’t admit it). I’m always glad to be reminded of the satisfied smile and the enveloping hug that came after what had been a tumultuous time; It assured me that I had risen and grown a tad. All of this reminds me of a little Mogra in the garden. Every time it grows, something or the other takes it down. Every time I’m sure that this was the last time, it springs back up, much to my amusement and delight. The magazine is on a shelf with my other work now. When I see it, it isn’t devoid of sheer heartache, but for about 3 minutes at least, I am dead sure that in my vulnerability, I have heart and I am resilient. In my sea of uncertainty, I can only be really sure of this - I am my father’s daughter. For 1.5 minutes, just by extension of being his daughter, I might even be pleased with myself. For now, that’ll do :)

[halfchai]

In Heeps

When I was in my first year at design school, Dhun sent me some CDs that he’d very thoughtfully burned for me. Each disk was carefully labelled and the cover had all the tracks listed in his very neat, all caps handwriting. I had finally grown out of my overly repetitive Backstreet Boys music and I guess without really realising it, I was trying to figure out what I actually might like listening to (and not looking) at). Dhun started handing down his music, much like an heirloom and I began to consume it like a parched creature in an arid landscape. There was one CD in particular that grew on me and consumed me. As I stayed up working through nights, Jefferson’s Airplane, Janis Joplin, Cream, Ritchie Havens, Rare Earth, Uriah Heep… all lept out at me. I played it over and over, catching lyrics I’d missed before, letting all the imagery they sparked wash over me. And what imagery they did spark - I began to realise it what to was to be completely and utterly enthralled by that which you couldn’t see and couldn’t touch, but that touched you (actually body-slammed) beyond doubt or reason. The CD ended in the most beautiful cacophony of Gypsy Queen by Uriah Heep. It was around this time that Uriah Heep came to Bangalore. I couldn’t believe this was actually happening. After many excited phone calls to Dhun, tickets were bought and I landed up there with a few friends from Srishti. There were only about 300 people (or so) there so getting right up front wasn’t hard at all. When they started though it felt like they were playing to an audience of thousands. They spared nothing! And I didn’t either, trying to make up for the emptiness behind me. Pressed up against the barricade, I belted out tunes with them (hoping that no one would hear me over the noise) and screamed till I actually lost my voice. I was in a parallel universe. For a few hours, I couldn’t be reached. All I wanted to do was call Dhun and tell him everything they played and that the keyboardist actually waved at me (AT ME! #fangirl4lyf) I was actually shrieking, but all Dhun could hear was a muffled whisper, because there was no voice left. He didn’t need to hear the words though, he just knew. When I moved back home, there were days when we’d play Gypsy Queen, Lady in Black, Wizard, Bird of Prey, sang it with made up lyrics as high as we could, both together but in our own worlds and then… Salisbury would come on and I could see my father being transported. I can see him even now, eyes closed, head back, looking skyward and singing with every bit of himself (actually rather well). “…Alone again, how could you leave me?

Alone again, I don't wanna be

Alone again”

Such beautiful words. I think I appreciate them anew. I listen to a lot of stuff, but this is what I always come back to. I’ve been calling it Dhun’s music, but I think it’s my music too.

[halfchai]

Since many Uttarayans now, I’m either scouting the area for manja, plucking it mercilessly out of trees and chopping it to bits or aiding injured birds. But when I was little Dhun and I had our own little ritual around Uttarayan and I can’t help but think of it every year when I start to see kites dotting the skies. My association with the festival wasn’t one of people gathered on terraces in a flurry of paper and string, until I was much older. Dhun and I would buy one or two good kites and one firki. By good kites, I mean what he thought was sturdy, but they also had to look nice - none of that shiny or printed shit. Our kites were very Bauhaus. He was the master and I was the young padwan, eager to please. I would sit cross-legged on the floor, hunched over, as Dhun taught me how to poke neat holes, measure the string, balance the kite and tie it. It was like preparing these kites for an upcoming marathon. The next evening, we laid the kites carefully on the backseat, took our firki and tape (in case they tore) and headed to an old, abandoned air strip close to our house. There I received lessons on wind direction and how to get the kite moving. I acted like an elite athlete jumping high off the ground, setting this kite free, but I’m pretty sure I barely made it off the ground. This was my only role, so of course, I had to take it very seriously. Once it caught wind, Dhun would dextrously manoeuvre it, taking it higher and higher. You tell that the Old City boy within him was coming alive. When it was high enough, stable enough, I was given the firki - a beautiful tension in the thread. This was possibly the highlight. Every now and then Dhun would tell me to either hold back or let go and I got to do my little dance with the wind. If things got a bit precarious, Dhun quickly took control and stability was restored. In that moment, as the surrounding mango trees swished for company, it seemed like there were two dots on earth and only one in that part of the sky. It was exhilerating… and of course freeing. When we’d had our fill, we set the kite free, letting go of the entire length of manja. Dhun said that maybe someone who didn’t have the means would find it and be pretty thrilled. We got back in the car and drove home feeing perhaps a little bit weightless ourselves. It’s a beautiful feeling, weightlessness. I don’t feel it often, but do inevitably when I think back to that day. One dot, two dots - Dhun and I, we didn’t fly solo :)

[halfchai]

My favourite thing to do in the short-lived Ahmedabad winter, was to find a spot of sun in the garden and sit in it with a large mug of coffee and two buttered toasts. That, and making holiday cards and actually sending them to people. I haven’t done that in 3 years now. It’s been 4 days into 2022 and it feels sort of like the last year swallowed me whole and spat me out into this one. I’ve long stopped giving into my urge to qualify years into ‘good’ or ‘bad’. I honestly wouldn’t know even if I tried, but what I do know, is that it wore me to the bone. I had no plan (because when has anything ever ‘gone to plan’?), I threw myself into whatever work came my way, I didn’t really make time to letter, or cook, or bake or write or do any gardening - things that genuinely brought me joy. And after being perpetually busy, I felt like I accomplished nothing really. I felt like charred toast - black and bitter, but somehow I decided that I still needed to sit in the toaster. At times like this (and all other times actually), I really miss my dad. Every time I slumped around the house complaining about being tired or my unwillingness to work, I had a ready, “then don’t work. Relax”. I would protest a bit, but give in eventually and spend a few good hours doing something I liked. Don’t get me wrong, Dhun was all about a good work ethic and logging your miles, even if ‘work’ didn’t demand it. ‘Riyaz’, he called it. He’d call me out on any BS without mincing words, but when he saw that I had worn myself out, he’d tell me to take it easy and that validation became my compass to transition into what I call ‘screensaver mode’. Without that compass, I have genuinely lacked the ability to know when to switch off. Every time I acknowledged that I was fatigued, I also told myself that this was a cop out and that I should quit whining and get my head out of my own ass. That I should be doing more with my time. Every where I looked, all I saw were things things screaming at me saying ‘still pending’. So for every one thing I crossed off my list, I added 5 more. All of this went on till I came down with a viral in December - I was now sick, miserable and tired. The first few days I numbed myself with Netflix, lying on the sofa like a beached whale with a cold. Maybe all the nose-blowing made space in my brain (it’s a very exact science) and I started thinking up a small project for myself. Netflix went into the background, and I started writing and drawing furiously. For the first time in months, I was excited about something. It was a like a small hole in a dam - a tiny bit of water trickling out, making its way… to nowhere really. And nowhere is good. Just as frustrating, mind-numbing things snowball, so do the good things. I’ve started making things for no reason, started lettering some, I’ve been baking a bit, spending time with family and today in the middle of the afternoon, a put a small blanket and pillow in my garden and worked from there, today I also wrote. There in the cacophony of the Rosy Starlings, I put my laptop aside, lay down and looked up. It was funny to think that it had been a while since I looked up. Why hadn’t I looked up? The sky was a beautiful blue, the cats were sunning themselves, the birds being raucous. That lasted a good ten minutes before the phone rang and something needed doing. But I enjoyed those ten minutes more than most things, in a long time. I haven’t risen from the ashes like a Phoenix. I have no New Year’s resolutions. I still feel weary. But I have learned to ask myself what I really want to do and I’ve stopped making lists as much. Today, I’m not charred, I made it out of the toaster and I’m glad for that.

[halfchai]

Swipe for details ✨ During the second wave of this ugly pandemic, I decided to start planting a few things. I ordered some pots and potting soil and started planting anything that came out of my kitchen and garden. Sliced tomatoes, pomegranates, turmeric, money plants, hibiscus, watermelon, lemon and even some mint. As if covid wasn’t enough, a cyclone hit in the midst of the wave and ravaged my garden, damaged my house and studio. So many lost to covid, so much destruction and anxiety that can carve you hollow… While it was heartbreaking to look at the wreckage and see 30 something year old trees uprooted in a matter of hours, there was tiny life on the other side and day by day I watched these little saplings come from nothing. It was magical. It was reassuring and reinforced perhaps, a little resilience. Maybe for now, it’s okay only to survive. Maybe the thrive part will take a while. But till then, I can still partake in the small joys - watching my plants grow, baking a cake (or many cakes), biting into a succulent peach, the smell of coffee wafting through the house, taking time to letter, basking in the warmth of my many dogs… small things. On the good days it’s enough and on the not so good days, it’ll keep us afloat :) Here’s to hope and small joys ❤️ https://www.instagram.com/p/CQ_YMYnrxLd/?utm_medium=tumblr

[halfchai]

Happy to finally have a new post up on #EdibleHeirlooms! I’ve been chipping away at it for days now and I haven’t found a lot of time because of the lockdown and everything that comes with it. The humble Khichdi (Nani’s way) happens to be my favourite comfort food and I think we could all use some comfort in this very strange and trying time ❤️ . Swipe for process video . As always the write up and recipe are on the Edible Heirlooms blog (link in bio). You can also subscribe to the weekly newsletter or follow @hazelkeats ☺️ https://www.instagram.com/p/B-M1iSNnvRx/?igshid=1uvwvq04zygdy

[halfchai]

A large part of my small family is made up of rescued animals, so I’ve been especially heartbroken to see the devastation caused by the Australian Bushfires. Though I feel helpless, I’ve donated to two organisations to hopefully enable the wonderful people trying to make a difference. I hope you will consider making a small contribution ❤️ . Here are a few that @ratantata listed and I have donated to the first two: • @globalgiving Australia Wildfire Relief Fund • @animalrescuecollective for Wildlife and Bushfire Relief • @wireswildliferescue Wildlife Emergency Fund • @wwf_australia Bushfire Emergency fund . #australia #bushfiresaustralia #donate #animalrescue https://www.instagram.com/p/B7qlCt7n3vH/?igshid=1c5r4wa0jj8px

[halfchai]

It’s been a while since I attempted a #Homwork prompt. This week’s prompt was to letter a quote from yourself and attribute it too - so here’s my two bits 😬 . I’ve been seeing a lot of posts, courses, videos and receiving some (well intentioned but un-asked for) advice about growing your following on the gram and while there’s nothing wrong with that, obsessing over how many people follow your work, how many likes you got can be counterproductive. I think putting work out makes you vulnerable in some ways and self doubt is always at an arm’s length, so it’s best to do something because it brings you joy and betters your skill rather than aiming to please an audience. We’re here to be part of a community, but we’re all on our own little paths and some paths are more twisted than others, but stay the course and keep putting in the work :) . Swipe for the process video and details. . On an unrelated note, happy 29 @homsweethom! ❤️ . . Made with @procreate on an iPad Pro. https://www.instagram.com/p/B5IZLPMHuhH/?igshid=1udirb3uru1l5

[halfchai]

Happy Diwali ✨ Wishing you love and happiness for the coming year ❤️ . My dad and I loved having a quiet Diwali. I’d make rangolis like a 5 year old and my dad would always have nice things to say about it. At night we’d light a few divas together and this was undoubtedly my favourite part ❤️ A little bit of light, to make the darkness beautiful. . #diwali #lettering #handlettering #typography #type #illustration #graphicdesign #diwaligreetings @procreate #design https://www.instagram.com/p/B4IAxf5nR_L/?igshid=xwlapdesdx9u

[halfchai]

I had the amazing opportunity to create two sticker packs for Snapchat a few months back! Here’s a few stickers from the first one, inspired by my love for food and because I’m literally always hungry 😸 It’s going to be up for 3 days and you can save it to use after as well :) I hope you like them! . Art Director - Sana Park Client - Snapchat . I’m so thrilled to have worked on this ❤️ Big thank you to Sana Park and Snapchat . #snapchat #stickers #food #lettering #handlettering #typography #illustration #design @procreate #procreate https://www.instagram.com/p/B3rqL7nno2b/?igshid=z4ddbupqmkiy

[halfchai]

I started this one a few months back when my dad and I watched Bohemian Rhapsody together. A little tribute to Queen 👑❤️ . For years I heard this song as performed by my uncle’s band and I love his voice, so when I finally heard Freddie sing it, I thought it didn’t sound quite right 😬 . This is definitely one of my favourite Queen songs! Any Queen fans? What’s your favourite song by them? :) . Swipe for iteration and video . #queen #freddiemercury #lettering #illustration #handlettering #graphicdesign https://www.instagram.com/p/B16bDZLn25a/?igshid=vhds9mqxu1ai

[halfchai]

This week’s #goodtypetuesday is about raising awareness around nature/our planet and I couldn’t be happier to do this prompt because I’ve been well acquainted with urban wildlife rescue since I was 4. However, instead of highlighting the larger threats, I want to talk about people that do amazing work and bring us hope. . Jivdaya is an organisation that has been doing some of the most wonderful work in the field of animal rescue in my city. The word ‘Jivdaya’ loosely translated, means compassion towards all living things. And they embody that philosophy in all that they do. Everyday these people see the worst side of humanity, but they dig in their heels and continue the good work of rescuing even the smallest beings without acknowledgement or gratitude. . If you’d like, please look up @jivdayatrust to see what they do and if possible, even leave them a donation. . Kudos to Sherwin @wackybirdguy for working ceaselessly and being super helpful every single time. . @goodtype #strengthinletters #lettering #handlettering #typography #graphicdesign #animalrescue #jivdaya https://www.instagram.com/p/B1rKKPKHaEH/?igshid=8qxqm5rhcorm

[halfchai]

This quote is by my father and it is from a book of his own quotes that he was putting together. But it is only in his absence that I realise how much these words resonate with me. . Losing my mum when I was 8, my dad was both my mother and father and we spent my lifetime knowing deep love and deep grief together. He was there everyday, for everything and knowing I had him in my corner was like having an army. . Over the past year I have done much of my work and lettering in the waiting rooms at hospitals, without anyone really knowing. But come evening, my dad would sit in front of the TV and watch sports (any sport) and I’d sit next to him lettering on my iPad. He shared in my moment of joy and passion and leaned over to see what I was working on - every now and then he’d make a suggestion or ask me how my ‘Goodtype entry’ had been received. In that moment everything was normal and we loved it. I lettered through everything because it kept me (and perhaps both of us) going, but after him, I couldn’t pick up my iPad and letter sitting next to an empty spot. It was finally this quote by him that got me to start again - another small tribute to my mother and father rolled into one. . Here’s to an extraordinary human being, my father, Dhun Karkaria. https://www.instagram.com/p/B1hFvEan6hq/?igshid=1e5rivk670z2l

[halfchai]

I have grown up watching and listening to Sir David Attenborough and so this week’s #homwork is a book cover of one of his books - this is the kind of work I’d love to be able to do! This is also my tribute to him because to my mind, he epitomises story telling. A legend. . Life On Air was gifted to me and is a signed copy! (Though I wish I was the one who got it signed). My favourite chapter is on Paraguay - there are anecdotes (George Giles and later the horses being the property of the BBC) that made me laugh aloud. I could go on and on. . @david_attenborough I hope you see this! And @randomhouse @bbc please hire me to create book covers for him :) . Thank you so much @thegraytergood and @homsweethom ❤️ This got me so excited! . Mock-ups by pixeden and yeven popov. https://www.instagram.com/p/Bu_gDsBncCr/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=7ndx82wyx0on

[halfchai]

I was happy to see this week’s #halfbakedsketches email because I had this unfinished #homwork + #halfbakedsketches piece that I really wanted to work on! . I love my little garden. It’s quite unkempt and full of large trees than plants, but we have the most amazing wildlife - everything from peacocks, to woodpeckers and treepies. It’s my reference point for seasons and I love that it’s a sanctuary for little creatures. . Thanks @homsweethom and @stefankunz ❤️ I loved this prompt! https://www.instagram.com/p/BuypiwbneSa/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1f9a04tklktnl