A Seema Kohli painting, with its phantasmagoric imagery of primordial feminine energy or prakriti (women as symbols of nature), can put you on a mild acid trip. The 35 etched plates, scrolls and bovine sculptures in her ongoing show, What A Body Remembers, at Mumbai's Tao Art Gallery, are a case in point.

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It's easy to identify Kohli's artworks as they reiterate the same symbols – yoginis, Hiranyagarbha (golden womb symbolising creation of the whole universe), Trees of Life, celestial night skies, galloping horses, multi-tusk elephants, aquatic beings including mermaids, lotuses and oceanic waves – representing feminism, rhythm and new beginnings, in a way that is reminiscent of mehendi, zentagles or rangoli. The present suit of works, however, has many more yoginis, flaunting wide, decorative wings akin to bodacious Samba dancers, ready to take to the skies.

These archetypes, says the 57-year-old Delhi-based artist, emerge from her own self, from what she's dreamt of, wanted and experienced. "I initially drew them as the wings of a hans (swan, the vehicle of Goddess Saraswati). But they grew wilder and more ambitious, like the wings of a phoenix." The Greek myth of Icarus was another inspiration. "Myths highlight life principles. Often we get lost in the story and forget its message."

Kohli's yoginis have full-body tattoos of trees, flowers, butterflies, swirling clouds, lotuses, and miniature versions of themselves, implying the Upanishadic aphorism, Aham Brahmasmiti – 'I am the Infinite Reality' or that man is the microcosm of the universe. And as always, her yoginis are faceless.

"I want every woman to find herself in them. For me, the celebration of life is feminine. By feminine, I don't mean the power to give birth. Look at how it has evolved from the '60s, when it was all about demanding equal rights. The woman of today doesn't feel the need to do so. I myself don't see men as competition. I don't need anyone to 'complete' me," she explains.

Another inspiration is Laldevi, the Kashmiri Shaivite mystic, depicted in Harud (Autumn), the last piece Kohli painted for the show, of a cross-armed, cross-legged figure of a woman looking skyward in a lush, fiery orange maple leaf forest. "She's the grand old lady of Sufism. Hindus call her Lalleshwari and Muslims, Lal Ded."

Her Kamadhenu (bovine goddess) sculptures – horned bull with udders – is an ode to gender and multiple energies of the universe. "There was a time when we learnt it all from the animals... Horse power and the flight of an eagle. Now, they (animals) only grace our plates. We're like parasites eating the universe."

Kohli covers every new canvas she works on with a layer of silver leaf – "silver being the colour of Venus". An ardent tea drinker, she spills floral, green, black, and even Tata or Wagh Bakhri chai onto her life-size paper scrolls and gouache works to stain the pencil and ink scrawling in shades of muddy brown. Among her most recent works, signalling a new direction in her practice, is a Tree of Life woven in jute, raw cotton, coir and gold thread with its roots plaited into infinity loops.

For Kohli, painting is a spiritual exercise. Thus, every day starts with a prayer, Oum Guru Shukra Vighneshwaraya Namah, "to evoke the gods to reside on my canvas and ensure no obstacles arise". Kohli loves her solitude. Like her solo travels to the remote interiors of central India and Goa, where she owns a home away from the touristy bustle. "Being with yourself is being with your spirit. You must enjoy it," says the nature-lover, who wakes up ever morning at 4am and hugs the trees in her vicinity.       On view till May 4