Gestation

Jhinu dusk. Photography by Amaya Engleking

Pregnant in Jhinu, a hot springs village in the Annapurna region of Nepal, the clear waters ran down and I saw the richest valley in the world: those who live so close to the source of the earth’s last glaciers. Listen, little baby, to the word of God, holy water flowing down the mighty Himal, feeding the Indus, Brahmaputra, and Ganga and all who receive sustenance from these rivers of living gospel. The ones who can hear say, “We the children of the Most High, are led to the highest peaks so we may pray here. By our being here in constant communion with God, the snows come and feed the world living waters.”

Jhinu hot springs, Annapurna. Photography by Joshua Engleking

But in the Langtang temple on the festival day I felt alone Read More

Himalayan Happiness

“Karpu” Photography by Amaya Engleking

Remember how after Tsewang and I wrote the bilingual love ballad with the first line being so intentionally cheesy because I only wanted to hear Karpu’s passionate ten year-old heart sing it, but his sister stated as a matter of fact, “No. He’s badly tuned.” And remember how after tea and before our long, bumpy cab ride to Swayambhu from the Nagarkot tower where Tsering Medo and Nima along with a couple dozen college kids hopped the barbed wire to stand on the gravity station to get the ghosts to come out, Joshua suggested to our party that we find a toilet. And Tsering asked with a naughty smile, “Little little or big and long?” Remember how on the sunny laundry day in Kathmandu, Read More

Secret Ingredient 

El Maestro

Backyard baby back ribs, and Carlos even let me in on the secret ingredient to his addicting barbecue sauce (and it’s not la coca!)

What does the world need? –To listen. And I looked up from my inner question and saw music, the answer. Music, the best tool for teaching us how to use our ears. Then comes prophecy: to hear the truth only when ears can discern harmony from discord, truth from deceit. Read More

A Day in San Bernardo

Carlos

Don Carlos, the professional classical guitarist from whom I rented a room in Medellín, asked if I would feed the five tortugas in the atrium paradise under the lime tree and bougainvillea, and then accompany him in singing Renaissance music. We spent the afternoon learning lullabies and laments, and after much digging through ancient sheet music, he found the treasured García Lorca song arrangements.  Read More

Cobbling

Photo by Beorn DuPont

Breakfast beating at the hunger hour. The cobbler ate clams and drank Meritage, and Charlie from California called us all ‘homies’ while the phones kept buzzing. Bzzz, and Tim with his mandolin and Levon with his grooving views on duty and Dao while the ball of sun-dried tomato/basil whipped butter sat there wuwei… They were billy goats gruff and I coveted their lack of sensibilities. Merv, that ancient free spirit of a shoemaker, wandered town as a troll at SnowDown and asked around about “them hill-billies.”  Read More

Tribal Land


Driving north of Ignacio, the blue star kachina and the angled faces of Chimney Rock, cabbage and carrots shredded into Planck-slaw: the frequency so low it twirls in no pattern.  Quanta emitted from this body therefore is great, hot, and feels like Read More

Theravada Travels

Painting by Marisa Darasavath

January and February of 2011, we spent our days walking along Yunnan back roads; paths intersecting the tea fields of Xishuangbanna, literally a stone’s throw to Myanmar; the dirt roads and jungle paths (barefoot, oh the leeches!) of northern Laos where we paid Read More

Fluorescence

“Redlight” by Katrin Fridriks

In the Tibetan mountains I retired to my little cot every night, happy to soon commune with my Lord. But these sallow eyes and wan complexion in this hive of ten-thousand street lamps, only want to escape, sacrificing prayer for distant and pale dreams. And the screen projects blasphemies, spitting them Read More