I feel like, sometime in the last couple of years, maybe even the last five years, between getting lucky with editorial gigs, then being unlucky, and then starting a master’s program, I started to dread making art.

For me, drawing became about building a portfolio that could land me editorial gigs. It made me afraid to sit at my desk and begin anything because I was always trying to answer: why am I making this, who’s going to see this, and what could this get me?

I was still making work, assignments, and projects for uni that even got on a shortlist and were exhibited somewhere (and I’m obviously happy and proud of it). Still, I didn’t derive much joy from creating them, and I had almost entirely stopped drawing for myself (except my travel sketchbook, which gave me a spark of joy here and there).

A couple of things made it difficult for me to find that joy in drawing. One possibility could be that the process of making it was laborious. While in the middle of it, I started questioning why I was making it, who it was for, and what would come out of it before I got to the finished illustration. So I thought I could get over that hurdle by creating more on the page, all of it, in a single motion rather than first drawing by hand, then coloring digitally, and then further tweaking the composition millimeter by millimeter on some adobe tool.

These are some illustrations I made using paper cutouts, ink, and pastels. It was fun, and I loved seeing it come together on the page, imperfections and all.

These are objects I drew from the Met’s online collection. Things I looked at: silverware made by Myer Myers (except for the coffee pot, which is British) in New York sometime in the late 1700s; a sofa made by Filippo Pelagio Palagi in Bologna; and an ornamental sofa made by Jean-Baptiste I Tilliard in Paris.

I recently read (in a friend’s newsletter) that “a fast illustrator is a happy illustrator.” And I’m starting to sense that in my work too.

Thanks for reading :)

—Yogee

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First of all, apologies for falling off there. The last month has been quite busy with friends visiting, taking on too many freelance projects, and falling sick.

Right after I moved to the new apartment earlier last month, a friend from New York visited for a week, and I had the perfect reason to do all the touristy things I didn't get to since moving to Berlin. We saw a lot of places of historical importance and barely had the energy or the time to fuck around and do more fun things in Berlin, but we still managed to bar-hop and thrift a bit in Kreuzberg.

Bought a bag of assorted licorice from a hole-in-the-wall, Kadó. I had lived near there for three months and had never seen it before (if only I lifted my head a bit and looked around). It had some delicious, weirdly intense flavors, but it was a fun surprise.

Toured the Sachsenhausen concentration camp in Orainenburg. I don't know why we chose to subject ourselves to that horrible history, but it was one of the most important things I've seen recently. It felt strange and uncomfortable to walk around the camp. We saw inmates' living quarters, the objects they used, and even things they created— a book of recipes from their homeland, a shoe carved from bread, and a tiny basket of flowers made of wire. It was incredible to see people creating, even during such an awful time.

Sketched the Berliner Dom. We sat in the church for a couple of hours, taking it all in. It was really peaceful there. I wanted to do a lot more reportage sketches of the places we visited, but it was one of the coldest weeks this winter, and I couldn't manage to sketch besides inside the Dom.

The last two weeks were meh. I worked on commissions, ate a lot of takeout, and drew comfort meals (instead of cooking them) listening to 80's Ilaiyaraja. Here's a go-to meal I usually make when I'm typically hungover or cold and craving something warm and carby.

Here's also the playlist I've been listening to while feeling poopy and under the covers. Fun fact: My parents' first car was a Fiat Padmani, which they bought secondhand from Rajini's father-in-law in the 80s.

The last few days, I've been waking up to pigeons pecking at these overgrown weeds in planters outside my window. I sprinkled some lentils and bread crumbs in the pots hoping these visits would be more regular. Let's see!

I also wanted to write about freelancing, but this post is already too long. So, thanks to those who made it to the end of it. Until next time, it might be next week. Not making any promises though :)

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Apartment hunting in Berlin is a whole other game from New York. This week I moved into a new apartment, a short-term rental, again, and I’m yet to accept that I might have to keep moving around like this for a while. During my brief bursts of energy between cleaning and packing, I made little oil pastel drawings and turned them into a poster inspired by Cipe Pineles. 

Two or three years ago, I came across Pineles’ work through the book Leave Me Alone with the Recipes— beautifully designed pages, hand-lettered with gorgeously painted vegetables and kitchen utensils. I can only describe her work as “it looked so good I could eat it.”

So here’s something colorful and delicious and feminine.

Happy Women’s Day!

These are some of my favorite spreads from Leave Me Alone with the Recipes:

Thank you for reading. This was a short one. Hopefully, I’ll have time to do another comic next week.

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Hello! Welcome to Tamarind Chutney! I just realized there's an online clothing store by this name, and I'm still deciding if I'm sticking with it or not. I don't see myself much as a blogger, and after years of art school and work requiring me to write about myself and my art, I still find the process quite painful. But here I am anyway, trying to stay consistent with drawing and writing for myself.

My name is Yogee, I was born and raised in Chennai, India. I moved to Berlin last December to study MA Illustration at UdK Berlin, and before that, I lived in New York for five years, from 2015-2020. I went to NY to study illustration at Parsons, and since graduating in 2019, I've been working as an editorial illustrator. But I want to expand my range and illustrate so much more, from comics, picture books, and recipes to textile patterns, and one day run a little stationery company designing greeting cards, gift wraps, and whatnot! I guess that's what you can expect to see in these posts: a little about myself and my ideas taking shape somehow.

I moved to Berlin really just on a whim (if two years of German lessons and applying to art programs could be considered impulsive). A professor at Parsons told me that if I liked living in Brooklyn, I'd like living in Berlin, and I didn't expect a throwaway comment to shape the next couple of years of my life. In this first post, Hits and Misses, I hope you enjoy reading about what I find a hit in Berlin and what I miss not having here in this new city.

Anyway, thank you for reading that, and if you want to follow me on this journey, please subscribe to see my work in your inbox every two weeks (or maybe more).

This is Tamarind Chutney, where I'll attempt to tell you a little about what I've been up to and talk about my work as a freelance illustrator. At some point, I will illustrate recipes, as the name suggests, but there will also be comics, drawings from my sketchbook, greeting cards, and even textile patterns.

A good project is a finished project, so in this newsletter, I'll try to see my ideas through to the finish in whatever form they take without overthinking it too much.

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