When I turned 21, I was creating a piece that resembled a flower I saw at my grandmother's garden back when we still lived at her place. They told me it was a Calla lily, a flower that seemed as if it had no petals. That particular one just happened to be white with a hint of grey on the sides. I remember that flower distinctly in my memory. It had the semblance of a sharp bell, with a mild curved tip. This piece, more than anything commendable by detail or design, is special to me because of another story. It was near this time, when I first got to bond with the girl I'm in love with today.

She came over to my house, and played around with my clay. It was of course, my birthday party and many of my other friends had come over as well. By this time, everyone at my party had known about my feelings, except her. It was a strange but nice coincidence that we held my party in the attic -where I sculpt on days of rainy weather. I remember there was a huge storm that day, but as the party trailed on, people started to grab the clay near Calla lily and shape forms out of the mass. Some made mushrooms, while others made action figures. Some of my friends even made grenade bullets to throw at this one guy.

It was on this day, that the clay I used for sculpting, became just another smile for everyone. Calla lily stayed there on my work desk, as I secretly combed the hair of that girl with clay-smitten hands. Obviously, it stuck. We had heck of a time getting it out too, but before we did, everyone else joined in the joke and we all ended up with green streaks on our heads.



From then on, there were numerous stories that came by, shaking the very fabric of my life as I knew it, but a lot of things started on that day, and I remember it when I look at this sculpture.