Wednesday, December 4, 2013
I find peace in the rain. It's gentle disturbance is hypnotic, calming and spoken silently. The monsoon whispers, tempering the air and shedding its life blood to the waiting forests. The sheer heaviness of the air compresses the color into tones and textures so intense, one can only stand with effort, breathe with difficulty and walk with a lumbering cadence.
Bring on the rain.
The fishing boat rises and falls on the turbulent blue-black sea. One moment I see it, riding high. The next it is barely visible...
What's it like to be someone else? To be young, thoughtful, blessed With possibilities, most probable, ready For all that life can o...
We all like to leave our mark. Some wait for the very end and summarise their life in stone, suspended over a hole in the ground in wh...