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Trekking in The Great Thar Desert – A Return to India
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My Hour in a Burmese Hospital
Off the beach, through the village and beyond, following a map drawn my the kind pharmacist. Over make shift bridges, past pigs and boys with sparkling ear rings. Perfectly tendered agriculture – tiny strips photosynthesizing in the mid afternoon light, by the sides of wooden homes, houses, ,shacks, below the concrete road. Uphill the Myanmar flag blowing proudly in…
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Still Time For The Bones To Rise
Bones begin to return from the abyss of british excess. I feel them as i fall out of a rickshaw onto the road. Pelvis and stitches to the left, breast bones to my heart and a rib cage i can see again under a not so distant surface. Nothing broken and still time for the skeleton to…
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Rural Burma in Black and White
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The Deserted Beaches of Burma
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A Return to Burma
Unsure where to start. I am back in Burma. Back in the land of smiles and the beautiful feeling that gives. Back in the land of complex liner lines above my head. Lines that frame the glowing sun higher than the lines. Back in a country, a space that feels unlike any other since i…
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The Best Temple in Asia??? The Shwedagon Pagoda – Yangon, Burma.
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Sometimes When We Travel We Forget Who We Are / Happy New Year!
Morning in Yangon 1/1/2012 A new year in the west and here time and date wise, but the Burmese new year is April. I try to remember years gone by but become creeped out by my ever-growing fingernails, hand extensions like shells. Dancing all night on the streets i am delirious. Another swig of Tiger. When…
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Christmas Day
Warm winter light rises from the east. A Christmas light that shines like no other in my culture. I light of remembering every year, every dark wake up and every time i see her, my mother. I look toward the sky and think of her asleep, in that room, next to the one i grew…
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Hello, Where Are You Going? I Love You. December in Cambodia and Laos
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My Last Night in Yangon
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The Little White Cube
Traveling can be so thick and fast. Sometimes all you want to do is see, sometimes rest. You become so full of experiences that you almost burst pop splat. I wish there was a small white cube in which to stop, digest and reflect between countries. A clear space to sit and think. A space…
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