skin

My grandmother's hands traced Srirangam's temple walls, skin weathered by decades of devotion. She'd whisper stories of ancient traders whose vessels carried silk across stellar routes, connecting distant souls. Years later, I discovered Keeladi's excavated pottery, realizing our ancestors recorded everything on clay—their fingerprints becoming immortal impressions. Now, I digitize these forgotten narratives on blockchain, preserving what time nearly erased. Each layer of pottery teaches me that heritage isn't locked away but meant for sharing. My skin carries their stories. Through this work, I've learned that art bridges generations, transforming forgotten treasures into living memory. We're all connected.