I was stuck. Creatively. Playing with mandalas for so many years, I got lost in the symmetry, and it slowly locked me away where all I could see in the canvas were reflected patterns.

Every painting I did, had to follow that consistent mirror-like quality. I painted this here, it had to reflect there.

I could not paint an asymmetric painting.
Ganesh was dancing around in my head at the time, wanting to paint him, and seeing him as a remover of obstacles, I decided it was time and focused the piece, on breaking free of Symmetry.

But do I paint him with his tusk, or without his tusk, because you see, sometimes he appears with it, and sometimes without.

The thought followed, How did his Tusk Break? And there are a number of stories, my favorite, I found, was when he consciously broke it off so he could continue transcribing the Mahabharata as Vayasa recited it from a week long trance.
That story caught me, and followed me onto the canvas.

Part of it is being true to your word, but also your art, and an acceptance of the impermanence of things, and the sacrifices we make for ourselves, and others. A breaking of the symmetry in one's own being, a conscious sacrifice for the perceived greater good. We evolve forward.

In this painting, Ganesh tilts his head, and in doing so, he breaks his tusk against the symmetrical patterns of the painting. His crown vibrates like a bell and he wakes up a little bit more. Breaking free from the Mandala.

My very next painting was Pagoda.