Melissa Townsend contemplates the meaning of Veda mantras by channelling her creative intuition onto her canvas.
By Sophia Ann French
Melissa Townsend is an independent scholar, artist, writer, teacher, long-time yoga practitioner, and she studies Veda recitation with Veda Studies. She has published three books of paintings (the fourth will be published in 2026) on the sūtras titled The Yoga sūtras of Patañjali – A Visual Meditation, in which she painted each sūtra. The first time I experienced Melissa’s paintings, the geometrics of her work felt familiar — the spirals, circles, dots and cubes reminded me of S.H. Raza’s work, and the non-representational nature of what she expressed on her canvas was reminiscent of the great V. S. Gaitonde, whose work was influenced by Japanese Zen philosophy — Melissa found inspiration in ancient Indic knowledge. Indian classical art, particularly temple art, is grounded in quantitative aesthetics. Artists trained in classical lineages adhere to precise measurements and recite Dhyāna Ślokas while working on a sculpture or painting. Similarly, when we recite Veda mantras, we follow strict rules of Svara, Varṇaḥ, Mātrā (to name a few), and each mantra has a distinct rhythmic quality defined by the chandas (metre) in which it was revealed. At the same time, the essence or deity of each mantra is an abstract idea or psychological quality. Shantalaji says, “A mantra is an instrument of thought that serves a psychological function.”
Melissa doesn’t recite Dhyāna Ślokas or follow Indian systems of measurement when creating her art — she chants the Yoga Sūtras and Veda mantras, which have had a profound influence on her work.
The first question I asked her was to explain the dichotomy of employing precise measurement and quantitative aesthetic values to represent what cannot be measured. How does an artist give form to essence, especially if she is doing so in a non-representational style? “I don’t know how you can measure any of it, but there’s this combination of things that are measured and things that are not measured that interact. It is a specific, mathematical thing that requires attention and precision. It is possible to find patterns and repetition in non-representational art. For example, in 2011, I decided to work with the Yoga Sūtras of Patañjali by painting each sūtra, and you will find a repetition of images, colours and motifs, such as the Fibonacci spiral, which I used to reference the mahāvrata of the five yamas. I also used a spiral when I painted sūtra 1.17 to represent the stages of Saṃprajñāta Samādhi. The sūtra highlights the levels of samādhi, starting with focus accompanied by reasoning, reflection, bliss, and pure I-am-ness. I used the spiral here, and when the paintings are hung side by side, the spiral continues from the first to the next level of samādhi,” says the magna cum laude alumna of Brown University.”
Melissa’s rendition of sūtras 1.17 (left) and 2.31 representing Saṃprajñāta Samādhi and the Mahāvrata of the five yamas.
A Measure of Abstract
Melissa’s recitation of the Gāyatrī mantra inspired her to create an eight-foot-long painting of 108 Gāyatrī mantras, and reciting the Rudram inspired her to create a painting on a 12-foot-long canvas. When working with a mantra, she allows the visuals to come to her and speaking of the creative process, she says that, “I studied the Rudram with Shantala, and I’ve been chanting that, so I decided to paint it. At one point, when I looked at the painting, I thought, ‘Is it done?’ But it didn’t feel done, so I turned it upside down in my studio, because I like to work from different angles with the abstract paintings. Sometimes, I’ve woken up in the middle of the night with a sense of what it is supposed to look like. I am not yet sure if any of the text belongs on the painting. My inspiration varies from painting to painting. I pay attention to what’s coming up, and if I decide to work with a mantra or sūktam, I engage with it, and that helps me coalesce the energy — I recognise it, and it recognises me. For example, I have always been attuned to beauty, and I really felt that attunement in Śri Sūktam,” says Melissa.
The Painter Learns Poetry
She isn’t new to Indic Knowledge Systems, either. Before moving to San Francisco, Melissa lived in New York for several years. She started practising yoga in New York, where she also learned Sanskrit and read Sāṅkhya philosophy. “I studied Sanskrit at the Ananda Ashram in New York, founded by Śri Brahmananda Sarasvati. He encouraged everyone who attended the ashram to learn Sanskrit — he called the language the ‘washing machine of the mind’ and often told us that, ‘Sanskrit moves you forward on the path to enlightenment. If you want to change your life, put up the Sanskrit alphabet in a place where you’ll see it every day.’ That made me keen to start incorporating Sanskrit into my paintings to take this transformative vibration out into the world. Art works that way, you know? It is a gateway to a non-verbal experience. I try to encourage people to find some sort of creative conversation with these texts. I wasn’t completely new to chanting at all, but studying with Veda Studies refined and expanded my understanding. Chanting with a community is a powerful and meaningful practice. Studying and practising Vedic chanting regularly gives us an invaluable way to do what we all need to do: move beyond our thinking mind, which is always trying to figure everything out. That will never work. Our mind will never take us there. Yoking our mind to the practice of chanting — that is a valuable vehicle indeed. It is precious and wonderful, beyond belief.”
For further information on Melissa’s work, visit https://melissa-townsend.com/