“Everybody needs his memories. They keep the wolf of insignificance from the door.” -Saul Bellow
Xu Bing at St. John the Divine | New York, New York
Memory of a place I fell in love with a long time ago
Last night after work, I went home, ate a cupcake and then started cleaning out my life. I’m not a particularly clean or organized person (*something I often blame on my artistic temperament or something), but I do go through phases when all I want to do is clean. I didn’t get to a good stopping point until this morning and already feel the need to do a second great cleanse.
Partially motivated by fear that I am hoarder, last night’s cleanse left me feeling a new wave of motivation and inspiration. Like all hoarders, I’m nostalgic as anything and in part I think that’s why I take pictures and keep extensive journals // lists.
“Memories mean more to me than dresses.” – Anne Frank
Last night, I even got around to organizing some of my messy photo files too.
Last week, I finally got around to developing the last of the film I have been curious about from the summer last week. As a result, I’ve been flooded with memories of just how different my life looks and feels now than it did then. But, it’s good and for the first time in a long time, I’m not entirely paralyzed by my missing another place. I’m just here and here isn’t so bad. . . especially when life is clean and organized.
Bright blue sari
My Mom is a rockstar. She not only spent part of the summer with me in India, but she also looks stunning in a sari. The other night, I wore a sari and it had been a long time. As always, remembering exactly how it works was a challenge, but thankfully I had help.
While visiting Bapatla this past summer, I brought out the sari Niti gave me in Kathmandu. The girls had a field day playing dress-up with Mom and got on my case for not having nicer clothes. They kept wanting to brush out Mom’s hair (and against her better judgment, she let them) and paint on a lot of makeup. The outfit wasn’t complete without fresh jasmine in her hair and a handful of bright blue bangles around her wrists.
When they were finished with her, they couldn’t stop saying how lovely and Indian she looked. And I agree. My Mom can rock a sari.
The mysterious Black Bhairab
No one knows much about the Black Bhairab. It was found, lying face down in a forest and dates back to the 4th or 5th century.
Bhairab represents the powerful, destructive forces of Shiva and is in Kathmandu’s Durbar Square to stay.
It was lovely being back with Immy the other afternoon.
Thankful two years hasn’t changed the place much.
[Photos: Around Kathmandu’s Durbar Square//Grace Farson]
Back to Nepal
Oh baby! Here we go again. . .
Nepal round two! Two big years later.
I’m about to explode with excitement and cannot believe I’m really about to go back to this place this afternoon.
Tonight, I’ll be sleeping here and hanging out with Niti and the crew.
[Photos: Kathmandu valley from Swayambhunath temple//Grace Farson]