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080322 1248, originally uploaded by unsplit.

This is magic.

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080321 1031, originally uploaded by unsplit.

I'm really getting quite the collection of Buddhist imagery...
Coincidentally, this post brings my Flickr total to 1,008 photos :)
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080316 0848, originally uploaded by unsplit.

If you like the monkeys... you should check out my photos in the next couple days before I dump a ton more, because there are about a dozen sweet-ass morning macaque pictures.

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On Thursday, I was crouched trying to find perfect stillness to photograph a timid lizard, and a praying mantis leapt onto me. Ed remarked on how lucky that's supposed to be...

Yesterday, I snapped 70 of the pictures I uploaded today.
I "met" a wild gibbon- well, we were very close and I'm sure he was posing.

What finally brought me to tears was at Wat Nokor... a modern shrine within an ancient temple. The grounds are littered with tombs and nestled within, a large emaciated Buddha keeps a pile of over 1000 skulls, unceremoniously.

A policeman pressed a $4 bribe from us, but we do not argue.

A young girl comes running toward us, stopping short as she nearly collides with a fast-moving motorbike, and asks with exhiliaration in perfect English, "Would you like to see our dancing?" Seconds later, it is clear this is the extent of her English.
We sat in plastic chairs, a crowd of about thirty were animated and seemed thrilled to have us there, as we were the only audience. Someone gave Ed a brochure, and the music started. The girl who'd invited us over stood in the middle of the tarp dance floor. I was spellbound, entirely, for the next two hours, tears streaming down my face. It was transcendentally beautiful. (My photos of the dancing are no good.)

The Buddhism and Society Development Association is an NGO (non-government organization, non-profit) started by monks in 2005 to protect and promote what is left of traditional Khmer arts culture, which has been all but completely destroyed. The children who danced for us are HIV/AIDS orphans, human trafficking runaways, and street children who've been taken in and are being trained in indigenous arts. I am so incredibly moved. My heart heaves and my eyes swell every time I let myself fully consider what I saw, what they're doing, what it means.

I feel like I've found something I'd been searching for.
We gave them $5 and it meant so much to all of us.
I really want to pour here.

Half the population of Cambodia are under 18. Those whom the Khmer Rouge did not execute merely for possesing the keys to Khmer culture are few and aging.
This particular effort seems especially precious and urgent.

We're going again tomorrow (I hope).

080306 1558

Mar. 7th, 2008 05:44 pm
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080306 1558, originally uploaded by unsplit.

080304 0629

Mar. 6th, 2008 08:42 am
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080304 0629, originally uploaded by unsplit.

Today, we head to Sen Monorom, in Mondulkiri. The bus will take us 230 km in 7 hours.
We leave right about now.

I don't anticipate having internet access for about a week.

080302 1359

Mar. 4th, 2008 05:21 pm
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080302 1359, originally uploaded by unsplit.

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080228 0825, originally uploaded by unsplit.

(dja get those turtles yet?)


Feb. 28th, 2008 08:05 pm
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080228 1209, originally uploaded by unsplit.

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080226 0722, originally uploaded by unsplit.

Maybe this explains why Jello's voice is a constant mantra while I'm here.

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We were first,so I got some long shots. It's really amazing how massive the tree is, sitting atop a wall- roots pouring down either side.

I'm very likely going to be staying in Thailand for the next several months.
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Yesterday was another 40 photo day, so the feed is edited.

I am super tired today. Hopefully I get to sleep early and wake with the sun to snap that root-encrusted buddhahead. I love that image.
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ICED COFFEE (gafe yen)

A long cheesecloth filter sits in a tin of hot water atop a steaming hole in the wheelie cart. In it are grounds like flakes, thick and flat. About 3oz. of sweetened condensed milk are scooped into an 8oz. glass cup, topped with another teaspoon of powdered milk, and a teaspoon of sugar. The cup is filled with the strong coffee and the mixture is stirred well. A small plastic bag is filled to the brim with ice and the sweet milky coffee is poured onto it. Finally, evaporated milk tops it all off. Add straw.

Same goes for Tea (cha yen), which is more my bag (ooaf!)

Aroy mak!
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Welcome to the beginning of another 12-year cycle, the year of the Dirty Earthy Rat

+5 )

Please excuse the torrent, those of you who have subscribed to my feed. I am a very spurty artist. It happens to be "on time"... sorry for flooding your pages- it'll slow sometime... but for now, I hope it's worth it.


Jan. 31st, 2008 04:01 pm
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080130 0817, originally uploaded by unsplit.


Jan. 29th, 2008 10:32 pm
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I thought for a second Melbourne could be my favorite major city. When the plane bounced onto the runway in Bangkok, and my heart skipped a beat and my cheeks got wet immediately, I thought, how silly was that thought.


Jan. 22nd, 2008 06:49 pm
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Five hours after the sun rises, we finally get up at 9am. Oil pools in the second half of my breakfast avocado. The coffee is powdered, but strong enough and the ocean is a ten minute walk away. We stroll through the pristine neighborhood, intoxicated with the springtime scent of frangipani and jasmine. The beach lies just beyond the main highway. To the right, the sand leads to a large pile of rocks with generous climbing holds. We walk in the other direction, toward Surfers Paradise, which is "more the beach to be seen at than to surf". Surfers teems with high-rise luxury apartment complexes and shop upon shop. Everything is new and shiny and rich. The boys are straight out of the wank mag of a 12yr. old girl. It's also Schoolies now- the traditional drunken revelry festival of newly graduated high-schoolers. They've taken over, it seems, for the next week or so.
The soft smooth sand looks like granite. Washed-up jellyfish look like discarded breast implants. As we return to the highway, my feet tingle like they've just been massaged for an hour. Barefoot, we browse through the Grower's Market, thrilled by the reasonable prices of vegetables here. At the Exotic Asian Market, I look through every Kung-Fu shoe until I find two to fit my sandal-blistered feet. We take one of the plentiful, packed, posh Mercedes buses to Southport, the burrough byeond Surfers, on a quest for bagels. What we find instead is a pleasant community that seems more local than anything else we've seen yet, and a charming old-world Italian bakery called Pandoro's. Baked goods of every variety (except bagels) compete for room in the cases and shelves. Each piece bears the bulbous irregularity of something singularly hand-crafted. As we indulge, pidgeons stroll inside, pecking the bread crumbs from the floor next to us. We enjoy this detail of nature for its stark contrast to the rest of this surreal Gold Coast scene.
The ocean is stunning, and I remain impressed by such a successful display of capitalist idealism, but it still feels like a dream. Nothing sings to me yet, "I could live here". He is here, though, and so I do.


I sent that out as a mass email. The first several drafts just whined and I figure that wasn't really fair to my people in inches of ice...
Yesterday: Near constant thoughts of surrendering my life to the riptide is the most romantic thing happening here.

The truth of it is, it's going to take me some more time to make my truth of it.

I watched a movie by myself yesterday about people who never should have gotten married and I did not laugh.

Sometimes I'm a fine stitch, sometimes I'm a torn seam...
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long intimate

i can't describe
i know you
an image
a picture i
can't quite paint
but see clearly
between bones and flesh
i feel you
and so different


i feel like a house
nervous keepers fluttering
in indecision
whether or not to pull
the shades
i see a kitchen full of food
beds full of children
beds full of earth and fire
i feel like a temple
with prayers and sacrifice
rejoicing in ritual
dancing in celebration
weeping in gratitude
eyes wide open
like windows with shades
all up

the actor

i've thought about you quite often
unusual though in its freedom
you provoke me
in your calmness
knowing you must rage
to think of wasted energy
spent in reaching
and plotting
all those things that take away
being you are very present
thank you
as attracted as i am to you
there is no desire
dissatisfaction clinging
my expectations of human interaction
have been heightened
to encourage provocation and learning
i believe you when you
do not flatter me
thank you
droomoord: (Default)
old poems on a
forlorn website
need some air
shake the dust off
the sparks loose


i  f a l l  i n  l o v e  e v e r y d a y
a  s c r a p i n g  o f  u n e x p e c t e d  t e x t u r e s
a  t a s t e
o f  s a l t  i n  c i t y  a i r
a  c u r l  b r u s h i n g
u p o n  b l u s h e d  e y e l i d
s i n k s  m e
i   d i v e
i n t o  a  p o o l  o f  l a n g u i d
t r u t h
m e l t i n g  f r o m  t h e  s m e l l  o f  i t
e v e r y d a y
i  k e e p  m y  h a n d s  p r e s s e d   t o m y  s i d e s
a s  i f  r e a c h i n g
w o u l d  m a k e  t h e  s h i m m e r i n g  s p e c t a c l e
w i n k  a n d  f a d e
w i t h  t h e  p a s s i n g  o f  b r e a t h

[Del Rio?: Feb 2001]

: : p oo r l;y pun ct/ u @t*ed se.nt+e nc,es )


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