Kept all the stars; they glimmer, I don’t by Deepali

Rendered in raw, crayon-like strokes of primary red, blue, and yellow, it exudes the unrefined beauty of a child's touch. The use of primary colours creates a sense of playfulness that contrasts with the figure’s subdued demeanour. The juxtaposition speaks to the tension between the carefree nature of childhood and the somber reality of adulthood, shaped and shadowed by those early moments. "Kept all the stars, they glimmer I don’t” and “That was not stardust” explores the indelible mark of childhood memories—how they linger, shining brightly even as the person they shaped grows dimmer in their reflection. The piece invites the viewer to ponder upon their own stars, memories, their own glimmers and the ways in which those moments continue to shape their present selves. Scattered across the composition are stars are drawn with deliberate imperfection, their jagged edges and uneven shapes evoking a sense of innocence. These stars glow faintly, symbols of childhood memories—bright and unchanging, even as the figure at the center remains caught in their gravitational pull. Even though they cluster near the figure they remain unnoticed by the subject matter hinting at the suppression of memories with the passage of time. The canvas is dominated by a solemn face, eyes heavy with melancholy, gazing into an unseen distance as though lost in the expanse of memory steeped in a quiet, unresolved yearning.