I agree with Duchamp’s conception of art that a person’s “life” is “art” in a way, and neither is more important than the other. 798 Art Centre is one of China’s largest art spaces, the former facility of state-run 798 electronic factories. Since 2002 artists have built their studios in these old warehouses, now home to impressive artwork that is being recognized internationally. These warehouses also boast independent designer boutiques and cafes, a world of not-so-hidden treasures.
I became quite the diligent tourist in Beijing with little time and very much to see in this city filled with sights. My life in Shanghai seemed to follow me as several of my friends appeared during my week of cultural jaunts. The history lesson began in Tiananmen Square and the Forbidden City, a huge complex of halls, towers and pavilions covered in golden tiles. Here was the home of 24 emperors of the Ming and Qing dynasties for nearly 500 years. I was caught in a rainstorm while carousing this Palace Museum which added to the magestic mood. As evening fell I made my way to Jingshan Park which overlooks the Forbidden City.
I was very much taken with the Summer Palace which is in fact the largest existing ancient imperial garden of China. All day can be spent walking these grounds and marveling at the detail in the construction.
An old Chinese fortune teller inscribing my fortune which reads ‘everything is as I wish’. Clever man!
Two days of my life were spent aboard a train headed from Lhasa to Beijing. A journey of 4,064 kilometers to be exact. This time was filled with visions of sheep grazing in verdant pastures, and snow capped mountain peaks. These vistas became scenes of my life as I sat in deep peace upon my bunk, fully aware of the luxury of time. My cabin mates were two Tibetans and a Chinese man. I befriended the somewhat English-speaking Tibetan and as hours grew long and conversation grew short I taught him to play my beloved game of backgammon. In turn he taught me a Tibetan game. In this way, after many cups of tea and wanders into the dining car, more for the sake of observation than nourishment…much reading and writing…time passed. I was one of only 5 Westerners aboard the train. This time was my own, blissfully trapped in a moving vessel. A head filled with thoughts reflected through eyes filled with visions.
Today I feasted on a delicious Tibetan lunch of noodles and pork dumplings (or was it yak?), cooked by nuns. There exist 3 nunneries in Lhasa and I was privileged to visit one and observe the daily lives of the 100 residing nuns. I could spend all day surrounded by their calm. Have I found my calling? I think not! During these last 5 days I have grown very fond of our guide Tenzin (who was once a monk himself). He has most graciously introduced us into the Tibetan culture and made us feel at home. My senses are filled and I shall take these visions and inner peace with me as the train departs for Beijing in the early morning…Until then my observations and meditations in Lhasa continue.
These are the vistas that will accompany me on my 48 hour train journey to Beijing…the adventure continues!
The Patala Palace, official residence of the Dalai Lamas
A sheep and I taking refuge at the Drepong Monastery
I have arrived to “the Holy City” of Lhasa. It feels much like a dream, surrounded by monks and mountains, at an altitude of 12,000 feet. My head and heart feel light as I wander through this spiritual wonderland with the aid of Tenzin the tour guide. In hours which feel like days, I have seen so much and the adventure has only just begun. My first stop was at the spiritual heart of the city, the Jokhang Temple, a mix of Tibetan, Indian, Nepalese, and Chinese architecture. within Tibet’s holiest shrine thousands of butter candles illuminate the most sacred Buddha statue, one of over 200 so deeply revered by its worshipers.
At the Sera Monastery, one of the 3 monasteries in Lhasa housing over 2,400 monks, I was amazed to observe a philosophical debate. Such passion and energy in the words and motions of these peace abiding monks. If only I could understand their banter…
The people of Tibet are, in a word, beautiful.
The past week has been a whirlwind, feeling much more like a month with all that I have seen, eaten, experienced…and all those that I have met. I feel completely immersed in the life here and have even begun to find my way around the city, taking subways, speaking with the locals (still limited to ‘hello’ and ‘thank you’, spoken mostly with the eyes). One night I attended an art opening of international female artists at a wonderful space (www.1918artspace.com) followed by a grand ‘hot pot’ dinner with the artists. The Chinese dining experience is quite an event in itself! Last night I met several friends at Barbarossa, a favorite moroccan lounge of mine, placed most serenely on a lake, and onwards to Bar Rouge for champagne in the rain and a dance amidst the ex-pats.
Today a tasty brunch at Sasha’s with Crystyl, Anthony and Blair who has flown in from Hong Kong. What dear friends I have made in this city which has most graciously drawn me in! The ‘Art in America’ show at the Shanghai Museum and MOCA (Museum of Contemporary Art) satisfied my mild cravings of the city and culture I left behind. I will miss this place and it’s people and the life that I have found here. Indeed parting is such sweet sorrow as I bid farewell to Shanghai and prepare to greet Tibet.
I arrived to Shanghai not knowing a soul. On my first night I made my way to ‘3 on the Bund’, a prime location including Jean Georges and many other fine eateries and bars. It was there that I met several strangers who soon became friends and began what feels like a very privileged life. I found a home in People Square, downtown Shanghai, at the warm hospitality of Georg, a german ex-pat, one of many in this continuously growing foreign community. Days here are hot amidst the polluted air, but my curiosity provokes me to wander these seemingly unnavigatable streets where noone speaks English and I am at the mercy of a map and any written scraps of paper bearing the name of my destination in Chinese. While it is strange and uncomfortable to feel so helpless I am deeply fascinated with the life here. My eyes speak volumes while my voice cannot. Surely I will not take the ease of communication for granted when I land on familiar soil.
The art world of China is finding its voice in this city of fervent growth and energy. I spent an afternoon at Moganshan Road, a mass of ateliers revealing artistic provocation. Much of these works are clearly politically driven.
My favorite neighborhood is the French Concession, flavoured with the charm of Paris. Tree lined streets filled with boutiques as well as many trendy restaurants. Shanghai is indeed a city of eating which I am doing much of, including such delicacies as pigs knuckles and soups that I can’t even begin to describe…and shopping, which I have not been doing so much of as my shoe size (39.5) is non-existant and a size 6 is translated into XL !?
From one island to another. I arrived to Hong Kong after three weeks under the Bali sun, it was not easy to leave, yet I was eager to enter a new space of culture and movement. Hong Kong is a unique city with it’s Asian flair and European influences, filled with habitants from all over the world. We are staying with friends in the Soho neighborhood, and feeling quite at home. A day of carousing the sloped streets, up to Victoria’s Peak for a proper view and back down to join the locals and ex-pats in the revelry of dining and dancing…
The view from “Aqua” prior to the lightshow…the perfect moment of nightfall.
Love and laughter are key ingredients towards a happy life. “I often laugh at nothing, but I always laugh” says Mudarta, who I call the laughing man. A Balinese local with a contagious smile and warm countenance, whose laughter provokes a smile in even the most dour face. Mudarta has a very wise approach to life. such wisdom is learned in the invaluable school of life and cannot be taught. I took a liking to him immediately, and in the days that followed we drove throughout Bali, to the sacred temple of Tanah Lot where I was blessed with holy water, and far away to the still active Batur volcano. time of visual stimulation and insights. It is through such interaction with others that I learn the most about life.
Skillfully crafted masks found on the roadside in Ubud.
After my most exhilarating diving experience to date (it was my 6th dive!!) in the waters near Padang Bai, where I spotted several sharks, a tiger ray and an assortment of fish in multifarious shapes and colors, we boarded a ferry to the island of Gili Trawangan, near Lombok. A four hour ride into a glorious sunset. The island is inhabited by warm souls, cats with uniquely short tails and donkeys which provide the transportation. Sooji and I met many people from distant lands, and together we shared this lucid dream.
A room with a view. the rice fields outside of my homestay.
A morning at the monkey forest. Yes, that is really a monkey on my back! Adorable but fiesty!
An afternoon at the impressive Neka Museum which boasts the work of Arie Smit, a Dutch painter who greatly influenced the art movement in Bali.
By nightfall, following a meal at my favorite restaurant Nomad, I experienced a traditional Kecak dance in which many locals participate. The people of Bali are so filled with spirituality!
In the belief of reincarnation, our deeds, wealth, and love determine the next life. I would like mine to be lived in Bali. This is a beautiful land where people smile often and the art of creation brings nourishment to the soul. Ubud is a haven for artists, writers and anyone seeking spiritual enlightenment. My days are spent in admiration of the great artistic expression present in the temples, paintings, dance, even the food, which each mouthful I savour. Might I mention the (ever so inexpensive) art of massage which I experience as often as possible. At the hands of master painter Nyoman Sudadnya I am learning the techniques of Batik painting, quite a skill involving hot wax and patience. Amidst the miles of rice fields this composition of my life continues…
A batik comes to life from the recesses of a vivid imagination…
“Malaysia: truly Asia” seems to be the word on the streets in this modern metropolis composed of trees and skyscrapers, the twin towers being the highest in the world. 48 hours in this jungle landscape proved most stimulating, fine dining and dancing followed by bowls of noodles from the friendly man in the street cafe, do as the locals do…a short break from the quietude of the beach, until we meet again in Bali…
I am now on the island of Ko Phi Phi in Thailand, attempting to overcome my fear of water by diving into the deep end, quite literally. I am taking a diving course and will soon be certified! Tomorrow is my first dive after several days of an underwater education, learning skills and how not to panic. I am not afraid of much in life but I must say this has been a challenge! Seems that I have found another paradise with turquoise waters, cliffs, caves…indeed I feel as though I have stepped onto the set of ‘The Beach’!
It is within these waters that I became a diver with a deep regard for the underwater world, what a sensation!
I have found the most serene, slow-paced city in Southeast Asia, and one of the most spiritual. Luang Prabang is the City of the Buddha of Peace, hidden in the mountains of Laos. The population is a mere 15,000, with over 600 saffron-clad monks who inhabit its thirty pagodas. It’s incredible to walk the streets and suddenly stop to gaze at a temple in a place where time seems to stand still. My days are spent bicycling on the edge of the Mekong in exploration of a city that has become a favorite of mine, with its ideal mix of nature and sophistication. Many elegant restaurants with tasty Laotian cuisine, as well as charming local cafes on the river where I can sit over a good strong coffee for hours. Galleries are finding a home here as local artists are showcasing their work and the Laotians are taking more of an interest in art and literature. It is a place I would love to spend more time, ah yes time…
The Kuang Si waterfall, one of several in Laos…a great force of nature!
The morning monks taking their alms at sunrise. A most thoughtful and intimate moment.
I am trapped in a world of tailors and fittings. Of the over 200 tailors in Hoi An I have been to 6, maybe 7…with approximately 4 fittings in each I now have 4 dresses, 2 jackets, 1 suit and a pair of shorts. So rewarding and exhausting to create your own wardrobe! not sure what happened to traveling lightly…
I have found a place to call home, at least for a few days. Hoi An is a charming village, filled with the finest eateries in which a 3-course meal at a 4 star restaurant costs $5. I wonder just how many spring rolls I can eat!? I can’t speak much for the sights as I have taken a break from visiting temples and taken to visiting the tailor shops, perhaps more exhausting than silent prayer. the streets are filled with galleries exhibiting paintings by young local talent. These lacquer compositions reveal a sentimentality that speaks from the soul of an artist.
My latest acquisition as my art collection grows, by a young Vietnamese artist reminiscent of Paul Klee, one of my most beloved artists.
For 2 days I lived on a ‘junk’ boat, with 12 other equally adventurous souls. Lost admidst 950 miles of mysterious limestone formations rising out of the clear, emerald waters of the Gulf of Bac Bo. Meals of fresh caught fish, a morning of kayaking, cave exploration and beaches…some of the most wondrous natural sights I have yet seen, disconnected from all that resembles reality. A beautiful sensation of complete freedom.
Sunset from the roof deck…followed by a night beneath the stars drinking Vietnamese wine (some things are better left to the French…)
The friendly yet fiesty girl from whom I bought many an exotic fruit. Indeed, a floating fruitstand!
I am living in the Old Quarter of Hanoi, where life spills into the streets. Women sit huddled together in conversation over bowls of noodles, cooked in a pan at their side. The soft, almost melodic hum of scooters weaves through the crowds of pedestrians and bicyclists. I sit and observe over a cup of coffee, the best coffee I have tasted in months. Strong and slightly bitter, mixed to perfection with sweetened milk, which I ingest by the spoonful. I digress, my mind wanders, the common trait of a pensive observer…
Some sort of concoction of beans, fruit, ice and condensed milk, delicious! Such tasty street foods!
A day was spent at the Mekong Delta, a scenic river with lush green canals, home to many local farmers. A land of nature and tranquility. From a bus to a motor boat to a rowboat to a taxi to a plane to Hanoi…
The devastation that met so many Cambodians in the years of the Khmer Rouge’s rule is unthinkable. A day frought with emotion and much sadness as I visited the Tuol Sleng Museum, once the Tuol Svay Prey High School, turned Security Prison 21, the largest center of detention and torture in the country. The spaces where so many innocent lives were lost, chambers with rusty beds, wooden cells in which there was room only for grief. The survivors of this prison were taken to the killing fields of Cheoung Ek, which became the memorial of these 17,000 men, women and children who were so wrongfully executed. 129 mass graves, sights of a dark and somber past that will remain with me as I journey through history.
It is here in Vietnam that
exhaustion has finally caught up with me. This is a rapidly moving city, everyone seems to be zipping by on a scooter, and to cross the street is quite an interactive experience. Perhaps it’s the intense heat or over-stimulation of the past four months, or perhaps the desire to simply call a place my home. My mind is filled with so many visions, at once they form a most elaborate composition of people and places…the world has taken residence in my head. These days in Saigon are spent indulging in bowls of Pho, those noodles which I love, and a little bit of shopping (I will save my energy for the tailors in Hanoi). And of course a great deal of culture. A heavy day of history at the War Remnants Museum. What is it that they say, be careful when discussing religion and politics? I would have to agree. Tomorrow the Mekong Delta…
My favorite of the temples is Ta Prohm, set in a tangle of trees, creating a mood of romance. Rightfully so, the King dedicated the temple to his mother. The light was perfect as it shone on this temple that was left in it’s natural state of collapse, in my view quite a beautiful state. I could have easily spent another week lost amidst the temples that create this ancient Angkor Kingdom, there are so many! Each one unique in it’s grandeur.
Thommanon is an intimate temple that exhibits much detail…have I mentioned how many temples I have seen? Perhaps enough for a lifetime, though I suspect more await in the days ahead…
At the center of Angkor Thom lies the Bayon, one of the most enigmatic and religious constructions in the world. It is composed of a mass of face-towers which form what appear to be mountain peaks. Most of the 37 remaining towers are carved with 4 faces. I was immersed in a world of Angkor eyes peering at me from every angle…wonderfully eerie!
Angkor Wat is the grandest and most sublime of all the Khmer temples. It was built in the 12th century, both as the capital and the State Temple dedicated to Vishnu. This is the first of many temples I explored in this monumental region of Angkor, many of which are composed of the two major features of Khmer architecture: a pyramid and concentric galleries. The visions of this Hindu universe are overwhelming!
I have arrived to Siem Reap, a city which feels much like a village, slowly making strides towards modernity. Cambodia is a country that is only now recovering from a devastating past due to the genocidal rule of the Khmer Rouge. I experienced one of the most intense days of this journey, beginning with a morning spent in a floating village in which the houses, schools and shops all float in the muddy waters of the Tonle Sap river. It was incredible to observe an entire life that is only accessible by boat. Children played in buckets or lay in the hammocks, as parents busied themselves with chores. I felt slightly obtrusive looking so closely into the intimate spaces of these local people. Yet it was immeasurably fascinating.
Following the floating village I sought refuge from the extreme heat and entered the world of the Angkor temples…
Bangkok is strewn with photos of the much revered king. His former residence is spectacular. The Grand Palace is enormous and greatly detailed, filled with temples comtaining the sacred Buddha, as is the nearby Wat Pho, the largest and oldest temple in Bangkok, dating from the 16th century. There I encountered the grand reclining Buddha, measuring 46m long and 15m high, as he has passed into final nirvana.
I arrived to a wet Bangkok. it was the start of their New Year. all through the city, locals and foreigners alike were drenching one another with buckets of water, as signifies good luck. complete chaos on the streets! I managed to stay dry by seeking refuge behind the sealed windows and locked doors of taxis, until one night after many hours of carousing, fortune struck and I joined the wet festivities. my dear friends Anika and Chuck were in town and together we indulged in several nights of meals that last for hours as in Thai tradition, followed by one drink that mysteriously turns into three…Azfar joined from Taiwan, and from high atop the roof of the Vertigo bar we looked into the deepening hues of a setting sun above a city that was far from sleep.
We are living in a treehouse on Morjim beach, in the north of Goa. I fall asleep to the sounds of a lulling sea and wake to the melodic cacophany of birds. We have found paradise, secluded from the many tourists and merchants of Calangute and Baga beaches. Several days spent in serenity, where once again I recall how beautiful and simple life can be. On the 13th the journey continues to Bangkok…
I am quite certain that I was an Indian princess in a past life. when we arrived to the Shiv Niwas Palace in Udaipur, I felt at home. This was to be our residence for the next 3 days, what was once home to the royal family, and is now the guest quarters for soulful travelers seeking stately refuge. It was within these walls that I felt the side of an India that tells of its riches and history.
The Lake Palace is a spectacular sight, only reachable by boat but admirable from any distance. This tranquilty defines Udaipur.
The Ranakpur Jain Temple is one of the most magestic visions of craftsmanship and beauty. A little background, the Jains are a sect of Hindus known for their asceticism and nonviolence. This is the largest Jain Temple in India, built under the reign of monarch Rana Kumbha in the 15th century. Composed of four subsidiary shrines, 24 pillared halls and a total of 1444 columns, each from one piece of marble, of which no two are alike. All are decorated with most elaborate sculptures and filigrees, including the domes. The beauty of these artistic works is unimaginable!
The color of Jodhpur is mesmerizing. A blue that lights up your soul at the sight of this vast urban sea. It is said that this shade of blue is meant to repel mosquitos. Perhaps this is why so the air seemed so calm. Mehrangarth Fort lay atop this palatial city, looming dark and massive against a city of color.
It is the markets of India that appeal to me the most. To observe the people as they pass by on rickshaws, bicycles and motorbikes, mingling with the cows and other livestock. I am attempting to blend into a world that I am only beginning to understand. I wish for a moment to look through the eyes of a small child, eyes that reflect sincerity.
An adventure beckoned. A solemn morning visit to the cenotaphs of Badabagh, the royal burial grounds, an elegant compostion of Mughal and Hindu architecture. My next stop was the old capital city of Ludhrva followed by Kuldhra, a ghost village, deserted and deconstructed due to tariffs imposed on the villagers. Following a picnic of roti and dahl, the subsistence food of India, namely, flat bread eaten with an assortment of 60 types of lentils in varying sauces, we arrived in the small desert village of Khuri.
There I met my camel and the adventure began! This agreeable creature and I quickly developed a rapport as we spent the next several hours trotting in the grand style of a camel, into a space of perfect serenity. The only voice heard was my own, as I delved into the life of my camel driver, a young animated Indian who spoke cordial English, Spanish and French yet could not read or write in any language, including his own. I am fascinated with the lives of the desert people, who rely to such a large extent on the tourism industry. As does so much of India. There in the desert, amidst moments of my own quietude, I could feel timelessness.
The havelis of Jaisalmer are most magnificent. This one in particular caught my eye and I could not turn my gaze away. This sculpted sandstone building is detailed with such delicate stone lacework. Clearly built by brocade and jewelery merchants who had a taste for detail.
Traveling in India can be rather arduous. We hired a driver to journey with us for the continuation of our expedition through Rajasthan, our next stop being Jaisalmer. It is strange to have a driver who is essentially a stranger joining us on this adventure, but there is an element of safety I feel in his presence. During the 10 long hours on roads that have no end, I thought much about what his life must be like, what he thinks and dreams about. I often muse about the private lives of these people I encounter, whose lives are so disparate to my own…we arrived to the Golden City in the late evening. The illuminated Jaisalmer Fort greeted us at this small city which feels like a mirage in the middle of a barren desertscape. About 25% of the city’s inhabitants reside within the walls of the Jaisalmer Fort, which harbours a palace, temples and hundreds of sandstone havelis. This feels much like walking within a living museum. Beyond the walls of the fort lies a connecting complex of seven beautiful yellow sandstone Jain temples, dating from the 12th to 16th centuries, stunning! A very spiritual day was spent in this Golden City.
On march 28th Sooji and I celebrated her birthday. I tried to make it an eventful day, not easy as each day seems to be filled with surprises. We had a most memorable meal at a ‘special village’ called Choki Dhani. It’s a neo-Rajasthani village filled with delicious Rajisthani thali, a plate of multiple dishes combining vegetables and sauces I could not even begin to describe. We indulged in all that was presented to us.
To complete the night, as in any proper Indian celebration, we rode on a camel and adorned our bodies with henna.
“The simple and astonishing truth about India and Indian people is that when you go there, your heart always guides you more wisely than your head. There’s nowhere else in the world where that’s quite so true”. these are the words of Gregory David Roberts whose book ‘Shantaram’ I inhale with eager anticipation. This is perhaps why I love the feeling of India so much, because it is a place where the heart reigns. My heart feels full here as I stroll the many bazaars in search of a sari in which to brave the summer heat, as a sacred cow takes refuge in the middle of the road. A small child approaches me with those soft pleading eyes which you simply can’t turn away from. The streets are crowded with human traffic, there is an unsettling feeling in the air. Unmistakably you feel alive!
It is easy to lose yourself in the local fineries of Jaipur. Shopping is quite an experience! All the shopkeepers immediately become your best friends, offering a hot cup of chai as you haggle for a silver pendant that looks like it was worn by an Empress in the late 19th century. And if you are the merchants first customer of the day, good luck walking away without a purchase! Day one is entertaining. Day two is overwhelming. Day three is when you wrap yourself in a shawl as not to appear visible to any of the shopkeepers that all seem to know your name and exactly what you are looking for. Like much of India, the experience of shopping is equally exhausting and fulfilling. And very addictive.
Amidst all the chaos I experienced a moment of profundity. It was there in Jaipur that I met with the most penetrating eyes, a blue so deep you could feel the calm of the sea. 
These eyes belonged to two mute artists, identical in appearance and manner. Though they could not utter a word, their eyes spoke most resoundly. They sat on the floor at an art emporium, astutely painting on 80 year old paper with the single hair from a brush. Their eyes spoke of a kindness that is impossible to express in words. My eyes smiled back.
Jaipur is a city surrounded by walls painted pink, the color of hospitality, as instructed by Maharaja Ram Singh to welcome the Prince of Wales in 1876. The Hawa Mahal is Jaipur’s most distinctive landmark, an amazing display of Rajput artisty, built to enable ladies of the royal household, or shall we say harem, to watch the life of the streets below without being seen. The City Palace is an architectural marvel as well, combining both Rajasthani and Mughal elements of design. Azfar joined us on this royal tour. He was most fascinated with the palace floorplan which provided 12 suites for 12 wives. The 365 mistresses were housed outside the palace gate, eagerly awaiting their summoning from the Emperor. Seems a little excessive in my opinion…
Jantar Mantar is one of 5 observatories built nearly 300 years ago by the warrior and astronomer Jal Singh. These complex instruments were once used to measure time by the shadows cast by the sun onto sundials, and to chart the progress of the moon through the zodiac. It was fascinating to see how accurate these structures are. No need for a watch while in Jaipur!
The Taj Mahal is the most extravagant monument ever built for love. Emperor Shah Jahan was so deeply enamored with his second wife Mumtaz Mahal, that upon her death while giving birth to their fourteenth child, he had a mausoleum constructed in her memory. In a culture where an emperor can have a dozen wives and countless concubines, this is quite impressive! This monument took 22 years of construction, with 20,000 people enlisted and 70 million dollars spent. It is indeed awe-inspiring, constructed of marble from Europe and detailed with thousands of semi-precious stones. The royal purity of this imposing structure is unmistakable. The story is unlike any other. Emperor Shah was a dedicated man and lived his remaining years at the Agra Fort with a direct view to the resting place of the woman he loved.
One of my favorite designers happens to be a dear friend. I met Kanika in NYC four years ago, as her passion for design led her to create her first of many Indian inspired collections, gaining her a reputation as one of New York’s hottest young designers, www.nikkanewyork.com. In addition to my role as a fit model, in which I very eagerly tried on pieces that I hope to add to my collection, I gained much insight as to the workings of a factory in India, and how skillfully each piece is created. I even joined Kanika in her pursuit of trim and assisted in designing the new collection. Or so I like to think!
In New Delhi I found a home, in the company of my dear friends Kanika and Azfar. Kanika is a local and welcomed me most whole-heartedly into a life of home-cooked feasts and neighborhood jaunts. My adopted Indian grandmother felt much like my own. A warm heart has no cultural boundaries, be it Indian or Polish. In little time I understood the extreme duality which exists in the interior and exterior worlds of India. In an instant I was transported in a rusty rickshaw to a place of great splendor, the Imperial, one of the majestic hotels of Delhi. I momentarily forgot the mesmerizing eyes of poverty in the surrounding streets. Yet this is what India is all about, the people. I am fortunate enough to know them from the inside.
This is my first taste of India, flavors I am certain will remain in my palate for a lifetime. The sights are intense amidst a cacophony of honking horns, in a city that is over-populated and under-nourished. Today I spent a feverishly hot afternoon at the Prince of Wales Museum gaining a bit of insight as to the beginnings of this enchantingly intricate culture. Tomorrow New Delhi awaits, where I will meet with my dear friends Kanika and Azfar…
‘I could live here’. These are the words that most often exit my lips, as I journey to so many vibrant and culturally rich cities of the world. Sydney is quite the ideal place to live, there is something inspiring about being so close to the sea. An enticing city bordered by tranquil beaches, my favorites being Manly and Bondi. There I experienced a perfect day: the morning began with a yoga class. Upon finding inner balance I retreated to the sea for a surf lesson. With a little practice and resolve I stood on the board, what a high! I am still a bit weary of those commanding waves but I have found a new sensation. the day of fortuitous pleasures continues…the afternoon was spent indulging in Shiraz at Darling Harbor (any place with the name darling must have a certain charm to it!). In the evening I enjoyed my first Eastern European opera in the most stunning opera house, ‘Rusalka’ by Dvorak. And this was only one day of many.
A great road overlooking the ocean. What more to say?
‘To understand your highest self you must live in that rhythm’, as did William Ricketts, an eccentric artist who lived and worked at Mt Dandenong until 1993, at the age of ninety-four. He felt a deep connection to the desert people of the Pitjantjara and Arrernte, as though he were one himself, perhaps in a past life. Walking through his sanctuary amidst this visual poetry of over 90 ceramic sculptures in which the human and natural spirit become one, I could feel his love and devotion to these people and the environment. An inner peace filled me in this space created by a single man who believed in something with a rare, soulful passion.
