One. Two. Three.

Three faces I saw nearly everyday this past summer.

And three faces I miss today.

Hammock in a high place

This is the way I spent my days in Rishikesh.

(*If I wasn’t sleeping, or drinking lemon, ginger tea, or doing hot yoga)

A rooftop, a hammock, a book, and daydreams to keep me company . . . all under the hot Indian sun.

The simple things in life often bring the most joy.

[Photos: Red hot Rishikesh on a very good day//Grace Farson]

An afternoon with Kate

I get this girl. We’re twin souls. And we like all of the same things.

Over the break I spent an afternoon with Kate. We recorded stories and talked about her future career as a writer.

[Photos: Kate//Grace Farson]

In a station, somewhere in India. . .

I met this little girl.

Our interaction lasted only a few moments before the train rolled away, but I haven’t been able to forget her face. I asked her if I could take her picture and she nodded yes.

This was almost two years ago now.

I might forget a name [and often do], but I have a hard time forgetting a face.

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about getting back to India. It’s time. I don’t know how yet, but I’m determined to get back there someday soon.

“Let no one ever come to you without leaving better and happier. Be the living expression of God’s kindness: kindness in your face, kindness in your eyes, kindness in your smile.” – Mother Teresa

[Photos: Train station somewhere in India//Grace Farson]

portrait

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pour.trait

\ˈpȯr-trət, -ˌtrāt\

1: a painting, drawing, photograph, or engraving of a person, esp. one depicting the face or head and shoulders.

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{. . . just a few of the faces i’ve been missing lately. . . }