Shanti Shloka

15 days spent in Sikkim.
I went there in search of peace.
and I found it. In every drop of rain.
Mist that erased mountains.
In Silence.
In sunlight.

To yellow walls.
to our bodies that we underestimate.
To remembering divinity.
and the absolute.
and love found not in fingertips
but every thing that shimmers.

much much more later.
Sacred lakes, Monks, Peace, Art, Hollowlands.
Simplicity.

Jigsaw Falling into Place

Here love exists.
In our house with yellow walls and white curtains that flutter like ghosts.
we collect sea shells, Hope, brooms, gods and those lost and wandering.

Here love exists.
We create. Images wrap themselves around our fingertips.

Little parts of our soul washes out in ink on paper.

Here single Brushstrokes can erase storms.
Technicolour dreams hang on every ceiling like clothes from a line or perhaps stars in the sky.
Purplesky.watermelonred. the soft gold that lines clouds.
the green that exists only in the heart of a grape.

Lend me your Wings

Stills from an animation I'm working on in my free time
to the song "let down" by radiohead.
all images photographed-drawn by me.
Here you will see insects, hot air balloons, cities made of glass bottles.
and much much more.

Butterflies and Hurricanes

'I fell in love with a butterfly once.'

I held her in my arms.

'I want you for dreaming
not for love'

Tired heart

Summer sinks its teeth into our flesh.
I can't go on.these trains move too fast. Like snakes on railwaytrackladders.
Seeing you.Your eyes pierce through my flesh like swords.
I'm crippled.I'm afraid.I'm lost.
I pity. and your house of cards melts to the floor.

I have nothing. Not dreams. Not love. Not thoughts of my own.
suspended being.supreme predator.division of labour.
a cup to fill with coins.

the second official photograph I ever took.
3 years ago.
we found that dragonfly together.
We held her in our arms.
it was too late to save her.
so we made her a home in the soil.
and let her fall asleep for a hundred years. or more.

the first photograph I ever took.
he was blind and singing
on the steps leading to a temple.
with many blind men whispering prayers
and singing praises.

Feathers and dust

'I did not know what to say, my mouth
had no way
with names
my eyes were blind,
and something started in my soul,
fever or forgotten wings,'

she wore feathers.
she said it brought her luck. and money.
whichever came first.

'Your hands have already opened their delicate fists
and let their soft drifting signs drop away;
your eyes closed like two gray wings, and I move

after, following the folding water you carry, that carries
me away. The night, the world, the wind spin out their destiny.
Without you, I am your dream, only that, and that is all.'