The Color of Quiet
I spent this morning trying to organize my bookshelf, pulling out paperbacks I haven't touched in years. I found a dried flower tucked into a book of poetry, its color long faded, yet it brought back the exact scent of the garden where I picked…
Tashiding Buddhist Monastery by Sergiy Kadulin
We, a group of six Ukrainians, once trekked in Eastern Sikkim, the Himalayas, in October 2010. One the most impressive Tibetan monasteries we have been to, was Tashiding. It is one of oldest Tibetan Buddhist monasteries located in the western…
The Ink of Becoming
We are all sketches left out in the rain, our edges softened before the ink has fully dried. To be young is to exist in a state of perpetual transition, a draft of a person not yet bound in leather or stone. We move through the world like smoke…