Under the watchful glare of his own stubborn nature, he began to truly blossom into the bleary-eyed, caffeine-fuelled, solitary, autodidactic, sleep-deprived, dribbling artist he has now become. Amit quit his daily grazing at the cubicle farms of central government in early 2015 to dedicate his time to art. After three years, he had realized that it was his own fear of failure that was the only real obstacle in his way, so he embraced and ultimately escaped this fear by flinging himself off the clifftops of his stable job.
Getting to work as a freelancer these days involves co-ordinating the complicated journey of stumbling down to the coffee machine and then back up to the studio successfully. It is harder than one might think in the dark cold recesses of winter. His car keys find themselves in the fridge on a much more infrequent basis, which is a nice perk of not commuting. It isn’t often he really even needs to wear pants to work. He does sometimes lean back in his seat, gaze at the forest and wonder in contemplative reverie if there can really be any more to achieve in life than this pinnacle of no-pants-wearing freedom?
Amit currently hermits himself in the remote bushy wonderland of the Akatarawa valley, north of Wellington. He feeds cat food to the family of eels living under the ford across the river. The cat isn’t impressed, but it is preferable to feeding whatever is under the bed. Amit hopes to eventually spend the majority of his time on his own personal creative projects, and he will always be dedicated to helping and teaching others find their own creative potential —and to realize their own version of no-pants-wearing freedom.