VEDIKA MODI

Vedika Modi is a transdesciplinary designer based in New York City. She recently graduated with a BFA in Product Design from Parsons School of Design and a BA in Global Studies. Through design, Vedika asks critical questions about everyday life.

As a designer she is searching for something that reaches beyond the mundane, that warm-sort-of-magical place we are always trying to make our way back to.

She is currently experimenting and exploring the possibilities of the built environment at The Lab at Rockwell Group.

vedikamodistudio@gmail.com

My               *
yearnings
for art
and design
are one in
the same. 

Manifest(o)(ing)

I am for an art that wakes you up from the drowsy lull of the everyday, a double shot of espresso, a splash of cold water, a whiff of body odor in a crowded subway.

I am for an art that smells like my mother's perfume, nested and suckled in a familiar feeling.

I am for an art that announces itself when it enters the lobby of the building and tells you where it would like to go.

I am for an art that forgets to create, stumbling upon its creativity on a long road home.

I am for an art that expands beyond the horizon until it is everything and everywhere.

I am for an art that scratches at your soul, turns itself into an itch you can not reach and can not ignore.

I am for an art that sometimes speaks in whispers and gestures, soft to the touch yet steady in its feelings. 

I am for an art that has not shaved, that relishes in the tight curls of its coarse pubic hair, heavy with the oils of its humanity.
I am for an art that crackles and creeks, splitting at the seams of its own ideas.

I am for an art that is found in the crumbs of a hearty meal, drizzled into the winding conversations and collected from the corners of our deep belly laughter.

I am for an art that clings to the fingers like the stubborn musk of a morning cigarette, gently reminding you of its presence into the late hours of the night.

I am for an art of the ocean, constantly moving, changing, evolving.

I am for an art that tingles like the breeze on a hot summer's day, kissing your cheeks in relief.

I am for an art that keeps you up until the first rays of sunlight spill into the room; eyes heavy, nestled in a heap of softness, churning, bubbling, rising into a gust of excitement.

I am for an art that is not shy of rage, nor withholding of warmth, always full of feeling. 

I am for an art of home food on a lonely night, when the strangeness of the city puts a wobble in your step.

I am for an art of blaring music, sweaty bodies and running

mascara.

I am for an art of worn out shoes, calloused hands, and fading tan lines. 

I am for an art of stretch marks, beauty spots, shoulder knots, grown-out roots.

I am for an art of being.