JUMPS across the sea

Returned to the States. Got a job I adore. Moving into a new place very soon..

Thinking about this sunrise over my most complete day in Burma. I took a horse at 4 a.m. to perch atop a temple to view this sunrise. I planned my entire route through the country, which would take me by local transport to the Northwest. I bicycled through the city, enjoyed a caneball match over coffee, found Myanmar music, went to the best dinner I could imagine. There, I was told about a festival starting that evening.

I rode by rented bicycle miles to attended and found myself in the midst of thousands and thousands of locals and a wooden ferris wheel crawling with teenagers; (literally, crawling, climbing) In the night, cheering crowds were thrilled by sports matches, concerts, a dance show attended by hundreds, sitting on the ground, amazed by my camera, fine festival food galore, front row at a match full of men, a womens team(!), rural people gathered in celebration of an annual Buddhist festival.

In the middle of these ruins a huge celebration waged into the night. But I had planned my journey to depart by bus very  early in the morning, and though I was high from the thrill of the celebration, I mounted my bicycle from it’s unlocked, unkept parking spot for the long, dark drive home.  

On that ride home, I saw death for the first time. Gruesome death. A motorbike crash. A few steps from me. Where there is little medical care. People stood around silently. Not doing anything. There are no cell phones and no hospital to call. Someone beckoned me to “mind the glass,” and I could hardly equate such a warning. A reminder closing the most thrilling, frenzy of a delightful day I could have wished for; this life is a precious thing that can fly in an instant.

Sacred and Profane. October 2011.

Right before I left for Asia. Sculptures from eggs from me,

and sculptures of neon light from others

-over the water.

Before sunrise off the Bay of Bengal.

Boarding a ferry to bring me to my favorite town, Mrauk U, before I knew it was my favorite town.

Cold air before dawn, the shuffle of sleepy people aboard, paper tickets in hand written in Burmese.

Ariel + Azuza: Alone Time with Friends

Some of the nicest minutes were on the road, en route from one place to another. On this morning, I woke up in a small room with Ariel and Azuza (travelers from Taiwan and Japan) in Pakse, Laos. It was my first night in the country, so everything was noticeable, new, and curious. We climbed down this bank for day two on the Mekong River.

All I packed.

Now that I’m looking back over the last few months and count up all those moments hiking through jungles and spending evenings wrapped up in hammocks—as I try to push my way back into a life in the town where I came from—thinking over the recent past seems like a very good dream I once had.

Here is an inventory I never showed. Right before leaving, these are the contents I was considering. Those reeboks didn’t make the cut…

In the sunny, icy-crunchy Seoul today, I got to share hot Korean lunch with this doe. Suji and I met in November both traveling through Thailand. She’s been living and working and traveling abroad for several years and is just now settling into her own country again.
We cheersed over bowls of milky colored sweet rice wine and great spicy soup.

In transit. Slept two hours to South Korea last night. Slept two more the night before on an overnight train from Chiang Mai.
And good morning! It is FREEZING cold here. What are people thinking inhabiting cold places? This is madness. It will keep me awake if nothing else:)
I am bulging wearing two winter coats stacked on top of each other. I am in no way as cute as the perfectly winterized Korean girls; but there is no way! I think it is 7 degrees. Please tell me it’s not that cold in Maine? If so, I am going back to Thailand. It’s spring already. Temperatures are rising. I never even saw the beach there.

Meeting two lovely people in Korea for the day, and one of my two favorite museums. Then I get to sleep all the way across the Pacific! Cheers. See you soon. Even if it’s cold.

I died.
I died and went to heaven and my heaven is in Bangkok. It’s amazing. Thailand Creative Design Center Lives on the sixth floor of a regular looking commercial building, but holds two galleries teaching Thai people about their contribution to design and THEN there is a MASSIVE (private) creative inspiration library. Every architecture book you could ever dream of, every photographer and packaging designer represented. Walls of current magazines from all around this planet. All those big glossies you dream of plopping on your coffee table. There is a color library for designers! You have to hold a membership to get in, but with a passport and tourist story they’ll issue you a one day pass. It’s a wonderland. Honestly. I wish I found it before there were two hours left for me in the country. I am all worked up but I am not exaggerating how special this place is. Wow. The concept of a space where inspiration can gurgle up into minds. I know we do it already, but this place is really impressive.
And yes, there’s a section on the art of banking, too.