The art-student to the precarious art-worker pipeline is real, and we are on our way out, grappling everyday with the reality of “competitive art” that we’re supposed to brace ourselves for. A collective psychological collapse is imminent in the context of a global pandemic, with the larger backdrop of a climate crisis, and the scariest possibility is that we will simply keep on adapting to this precarious condition constantly, how we are adapting and thinking internet as a 'site of display', not just a space for archiving artworks.

What kind of a response is one supposed to have to this condition? None of our practices can reconcile with this question directly, but if this precarity is a shared condition for all of us, we’re all trying to answer it through the smallest of strands we find ourselves trying to untangle. And we’re all on the same boat, figuring out whether there are answers we can find at all, or if there’s only a growing plethora of contradictions that we will constantly find ways to live within this historical moment.


The ‘Naav’ is not just a common title of our Newsletters. The ‘paper boat’ is not just a visual metaphor of this perilous moment of history. It also carries our last two years' collectivism and denials, floating from the physical space to virtual makeshift arrangements. The boat becomes the allegorical sketchbook of our day to day struggles. Moreover, ‘Naav’ is a space holding communitarian values and acts a relief baton for salvaging our practices and sociality.

Taking the cue of the ‘Naav’, we are going to publish four newsletters. They are contextually envisioned as three islands (Hilore, Morom, Baaqi) and a game (Luto & Luto Sons), clustered with our common and individual concerns.

Come join us on our Naav and visit the islands by clicking on the ripples.

Dear Readers,

नाव