latent bombs.

[khammouane province, laos. from the ramblingspoon ]

bombs which fell a decade ago, lie low
-and forgotten, almost-
until they flare up, indiscriminate,
to mar the lives of today
and recall the injustice of many yesterdays.

All last week, Jerry and I followed the affable Wisconsinite Jim Harris, who has dedicated his retirement to PCL and the people of Laos. We accompanied him and his bomb clearance team on their door-to-door, village-to-village excursions in the small district of Nakai. This is all part of our ongoing efforts to document the lasting effects of America’s “secret war” on Laos in the 1960s and 1970s...

Per capita, Laos is the most heavily bombed country on earth. US forces flew, on average, one bombing raid every eight minutes for nine years.

http://ramblingspoon.com/blog/?p=856

to seek.

seek

O.E. secan "visit, inquire, pursue," influenced by O.N. soekja, both from P.Gmc. *sokjanan (cf. O.S. sokian, O.Fris. seka, M.Du. soekan, O.H.G. suohhan, Ger. suchen, Goth. sokjan), from PIE *sag- "to track down, to trace" (cf. L. sagire "to perceive quickly or keenly," sagus "presaging, predicting," O.Ir. saigim "seek"). The modern form of the word as uninfluenced by O.N. is in beseech.

The religious sect of the Seekers is attested from 1645.

beseech

c.1175, bisecen "to beseech, beg urgently," from be- + M.E. secen "to seek

[from www.etymonline.com]

[burma. inle -all photos in this post by gabrielle bertier]
searching
for?


the means with which we conduct our investigations.


graceful dome, uncanny symmetry-
an astonishing work by nature.

how can one still believe in randomness when the most impersonal of all shows such calculated cunning?


uniforms and aculturation make all the same-
so does love and affection.


and we grow into
that which we learn?
what do we learn.


while searching for the light, will we, blind and small as we are, rush right by it;
does it blind us, whence we still cannot take on its glory and might?

"... god almighty wont remain almighty if people knows how he looks like.
god might be so mighty that he'll blow your socks off... "


[laos. ]
end the day exhausted.
the night won't offer respite:
one's ignorance is either temporary
- then brace yourself for the liminal test-
or death- in which you've lost at the grand game of life.
(eternally looking for something more,

until it is found.)

random (?) sparks

[after laos. udon thani night market]
puppies upon puppies, in cages, for sale.


[laos. vientiene]
people as conduits for ideals, dreams, truth.
and this, the glaze of memory:
should it be separated from the event itself?


Suddenly had this thought:
if Truth is something already to be found
within us,
and to experience Heaven is to be reunited with Truth,
then Heaven can be enjoyed,
-Heaven can be had-,
right here on earth in our lives.

There really is no dichotomy between Heaven and Earth,
just as the ancients believed-
and we really are connected
with the whole universe.

..Heaven on earth... Can you imagine!


[laos. vientiene]
monks' robes hanging out to dry.

smell of something fresh.

a photo of a full moon near lake powell, utah [by amiran white],
heavy with silent splendor, is enough to remind one of the vast unseen out there; earth's own creations.

the unapologetic acridity beneath a solemn eye on a blank blue canvas
also reminds me of the moist lushness of northern laos, another side of the earth pregnant with green and wet blue.



[?.]
they look like they belong right there, in the warm stream of the earth. have we forgotten how it feels like- to have water, wind, air, the fire of the sun's heat sculpting and reviving our tired urban-clad form?


[vang vieng. namkong river?]


[vang vieng. main street artery]
as if man decided to roll out a carpet for his urban plans and worldly games.


[luang prabang. a nuns' temple at the top of some hill]
beauty within sanctified grounds; both plant and man (or in this case, woman) pointing to something skyward, more spiritual.


[+ 091207]
sometimes we're reminded of our place in certain hierarchies, especially of the larger scheme of things. listen to this song- it says, "first was the earth, then men."

well, we all like a good song which is almost uncouthly direct, and unabashed. here's one singing an awe-struck ode to what must have been a bloody amazing sight of:

these fucking mountains,
white tipped with snow,
cold- blooded colossuses,
electric headstones
stab ferociously
at the lions of these giants.

this impenetrable darkness,
this brooding gloom,
inhaling, exhaling
its native suns.
it breeds gloriously,
needs no illumination
in the wilderness.

this fucking carpet
looks like the sea.
it rolls and sways uproariously
with the trampling of feet.
emperor penguins
and your marriage ceremonies
confound the wilderness
of the mountains

whoa ooh
bababah ooh babababah

this fucking mountain
by the unreliable narrator
[http://www.saidthegramophone.com/archives/celebraate.php .]

found: vientiane times.

thank you to whoever took this picture with my camera.

amusing how behind-the-scenes hard work, and common heartwork, can be framed up, glorified, and immortalised in newsprint- a symbol of cultures meeting, a pedestal to progress.


[vientiene times.]

someone else has painted a beautiful portrait of Luang Prabang

"-For the entire life people act like a moth attracted to the flame, completely hallucinated, completely deceived, not knowing the flame will burn, that it is completely other than what it appears.

Even though they get burned, while they still have the power to fly they will continue to go towards the flame.
-Lama Zopa Rinpoche

perhaps it is their ability to look out and never lose sight of within, to turn the ear away from whispers of halftruths- their ability to turn their back on us.



all of our uncertainties do not faze them,
all of that which glitters and promises instant gratification, they look in compassion as it already begins disintegrating.
they live the longterm, the constant wind, the eternal principles,


and leave us to paint sordid colours to this world we inhabit,
obscuring further and further our own vision,
and marring deeper and deeper the form of Truth.

question #1.

theres another kind of wondrous travelling; traversing the internal mind via textural soundscapes.
learning of another world, seeking through another sense, being with/of/in another.
.
//rose tinted view
and satellites that compromise
the truth

but i wanted more
with the cuts and the bruises

faith
it drives me away
but it turns me
like a stranger's love
(faith) rockets through the universe
it fuels the lies and feeds the curse

:: muse
.



[luang prabang.] alms giving




[vientiene. nong duang]
faith is believing is what you know to be false.
-time too swift. margaret poynter


[[from sau yan
[[paris. notre dame]

create-ing.

suppose art is communication, suppose communication is really a basal drive to connect to another.
suppose the core web of our being is with other beings.

i instinctively feel that is too simplistic, too anthropocentric. but it doesnt negate the what and how of our interrelationships: person to person, culture to person, culture to culture.
and it doesnt undermine the importance of it all.

[vientiene.]
commercialism can still inspire, no?

[vientiene.]


[[from rachelc; www.thechampagnerose.blogspot.com]
[ nyc. central park]
idealistic interpretation: the subtle shadow play invite us to rise above, and imagine according to the eden of nature.


[[from www.lensculture.com/ambrosi.html. and alecia]
sensuousness, strength and gentle tension; curves and rigid lines- reflect our own contortions and complexities as we present our selves, and strive to comprehend others.

if only we could be as blatantly honest and clear as (it) the words of our soul written out all over our bodies.
or more practically, if we could only express boldly and listen as hungrily.

//The Body as Dream series
is based on the certainty
that our reality exists
because we’ve given it a name,
that our representation of the world
is as important
as its existence a priori
and that we,
along with the world we’re a part of,
are defined by our words.

The writing
is a continual repetition of words
which form an entirety
of illegible signs
that envelop the skin,
cover and replace it.
Light or ponderous, winking or solemn,
all of these images represent
the same curious astonishment
at what we are.

(of words.)

[attempt aborted. 250607]
no matter the time, no matter the despair,
may truth and all that is eternal be revealed such that we receive
without prejudice without bias,
but with clarity, grace and wisdom to
renew its use and life through us;
multiplying itself infinitely through us.


fundamental to the issue of you and me as we are here on earth:
ultimately connected or apart.
//what of this ceaseless drive to bridge the gap, imagined or real.


problem: because we do not speak like we write, and we do not listen like we read.
solution: --



[vientiene.] one's critique is not within the other's concern.

[vientiene. patouxai monument] lead me in to the caverns of your innnermost thoughts; delight and enthrall me with new visions and take me where your gaze goes.

[vientiene. that luang] mirage-like; radical promises. turn awayfrom/ to fact/fiction?

[that luang.] is it more with faith or knowing that you pray with. perhaps the former is sufficient for contentment.
do we, too, communicate like the blind with the blind, each seeking an imagined other desperately, each receiving something different from what is offered.

[nong duang sec.] regarding the one-on-ones: all i yearn for, [unarticulated].


[nong duang sec.] the cohesive power of music, of song, of sound.

[vientiene. talat sao]

[nong duang sec.] how do invisible bonds form without aid of concrete language or solidifying time?


conclusion?: irrevocably alone, if only by our own boundaries, anxieties and turmoil washing us into an ever shrinking spiral.

with 3:36min.

they are not
departed or gone,
-
they brought me their comfort
and later they brought me this song.
o i hope you run into them
you whove been traveling so long.
yes, you who must leave everything
that you cannot control;
it begins with your family,
but soon it comes round to your soul.
well, ive been where youre hanging
i think i can see how youre pinned.
when youre not feeling holy,
your loneliness says that youve sinned.
they (came) beside me
i made my confession to them.
they touched both my eyes
(and i)


if your life is a leaf
that the seasons tear off and condemn

they will bind you with love
that is graceful and green as a stem.



when i left they were sleeping,
"i hope you run into them soon".

dont turn on the light
you can read their address by the moon;


and you wont make me jealous
if I hear that they sweeten your night

we werent lovers like that
(and besides it would still be all right
we werent lovers like that
and besides it would still be all right.) ""

- from sisters of mercy
by. serena ryder.
originally performed by. leonard cohen.

candidly. part two.

dennis running away in horror from the lao-bins.


[nong duang sec.] seetha wins best-fish-award.

vasudha: master karate-chef. seetha: sliced fish.

i like this one of jas grinning. and alvin n honcheng stuffing their faces in the background. :p


everyone reaarranging their hair at the same time.


the edwinhands again. im beginning to think the honchenghands and edwinhands are interchangeable.

[vientiene. patouxai monument] grand boss smiling. savour it.

kannan playing god.

[patouxai monument.] dennis literally taking one for the team.

[vientiene. wet market] weiling looking for defects in the chicken.



seetha showing exactly how her hips dont lie. :D

[vientiene. peanut market] jolyn refusing a laotian offer.








[singapore embassy.] yuxin looking her most formidable.

discussing serious covert missions.


[vientiene. french restaurant] thanks for the treat.