Sitting atop a karst mountain, looking down on the limestone peaks and boats bobbing along the Ngo Dong River – a huge expansive view, a view to drown in, – my gaze was drawn down to the girl sitting quietly next to me, painting a jar of incense at the foot of the Quan Am. A narrowing. Honing in like ants on a sticky trail. … Continue reading Incense.
And I sit. I just sit. For years I’ve been saying I want to ‘do nothing’. For me though, ‘doing nothing’ is never doing nothing. It’s just not going out. I tell myself I’ll ‘have a day off’ which means I’ll be catching up with things; doing something. There is no down time. There is no free time. There is no respite. I don’t write … Continue reading A Journey of a Very Different Kind.
My mum burst out laughing when I told her I was tired. I could almost hear her thinking. ‘You tired? You don’t do anything’. Or as another friend recently put it. ‘How is it going with your walking from tea-shop to tea-shop’? I don’t blame them. I do lead a life of Riley. But sometimes life on the move becomes too much. Our ‘Orient Express’ … Continue reading Grandma’s House In Bran.