Color Marinade

Washing and Ironing at the Bat Cave

2010-10-20T12:57:00.000-07:00

Autumn in America

2010-10-20T12:25:00.000-07:00

I revel in the crispiness of autumn...the crunch under my feet...the smell of leaves saying their last whispered farewells.

Bracing and refreshing, the fall air is full of fulfillment and the faint fragrance of the feckful future.

Shoriatpur Clay Village

2010-01-22T05:04:00.000-08:00

Plaster Molds

Sweet Sketches!

Clay in Courtyard

Fishnet Weights . . . and Leaves

Pot and Pond

More Fishnet Weights

Clay Foundation

New Years Day: Morning Glory - The Descent

2010-01-05T01:41:00.001-08:00

Wowed on New Years Morning

The moon on New Years Morn

Sunrise on New Years Morn

Vignettes from the walk down the "hill"

For Jodi

On the way up.

On the way down.

New Years Eve: Full Moon, Blue Moon, Eclipsed Moon

2010-01-05T00:14:00.001-08:00

It was so freezing cold that after our big foggy hike all we really wanted to do was huddle around the fire, but I just happened to go outside as the sky started clearing up revealing an amazing full moon. Not only was it a full moon but it was a blue moon (the second one in a month) and unbeknownst to me from 12:10 a.m. to 1:30 a.m. there was also a lunar eclipse. I think I saw it in my dreams. Tee hee.

New Years Eve: Foggy Ascent

2010-01-04T20:42:00.000-08:00

I told him we were entering Middle Earth

The fog made it feel quite Hobbitly for some reason.

Sweet pure snow . . . ahh! The magic!

The Indian border.

Walking in fog all day was exhilarating and beautiful but there was always the nagging feeling that we were missing the vista of the Himalayan mountains. Somehow the fog heightened my senses and I noticed a lot of small things that I might otherwise have missed.

A cheese (paneer) press

The sweet smell of pine

Rich textures

Weathered beauty

Hospitality of the proffered chair

The warmth of the kitchen

Hanging on to life . . . by a thread

The beauty of the handmade and the hand making is breathtaking at times . . . in it's simplicity and unassuming backwater normalcy.

Tea . . . the great bringer-together of cold people.

Keeping warm.

Friends

For those crazy about machines. Old UNICEF Landrovers from the 50's.

Finally at our destination.

Goodbye decade!

Riley Reflected

2010-01-04T02:50:00.000-08:00

Jensen and Riley Moment

2010-01-04T02:45:00.001-08:00

Happy 6th Birthday Riley!

2010-01-04T02:38:00.001-08:00

Energy, spunk, zest, indefatigable . . . for starters.

Off Duty Vendor's Cart

2009-12-01T03:49:00.000-08:00

Yummy Red Ones

2009-12-01T03:40:00.001-08:00

I cannot resist sugared cranberries. I used this recipe, with some modifications, namely the addition of cinnamon and cloves steeped with the syrup mixture. Thanks to our dear head office folks we had fresh cranberries for Thanksgiving. Thank you Asia Desk.

Eid Mubarak

2009-11-28T20:00:00.001-08:00

After a very filling, meaty meal.

Millers, Zooks and the River

2009-11-24T17:44:00.000-08:00

The Miller Punch (explanation of "Punch". Our word "Punch" is from the Sanskrit/Hindi/Bengali word "Panch" which means "5". For us "punch" is a drink which is composed of several drinks. Originally probably 5 drinks. All non-alcoholic of course) I think my title packs a better punch ***groan*** than The Miller Five does. So much for long explanations of minutuae.

Rhoda boat . . . ***permission to groan again***

I like blue backgrounds. I like Steve even better. I am secretly planning to kidnap him.

Bamboo bridge with the Troll on the top!

Rhoda in the wee hours of the morning having "quiet" time with Riley's assistance.

Netrakona

2009-11-24T17:21:00.001-08:00

Riley pulled out his sketch pad and started sketching the dog.

Pruitt soon joined him.

Indigo is magical. This sari was white and in a vat with indigo minutes ago. As soon as it hit the air (oxidization) it started turning deeper and deeper blue. The wave and shake it so that it oxidizes evenly. This particular piece has a batik design (where it is white). Batik is basically a wax resist to disallow the dye to penetrate in certain areas. As I said . . . MAGICAL!!!

Spools just beg to be photographed. I love the fluff and the shadows cast. In Photoshop I used the Match Color command to match the ambiance of the photo below. I didn't like the bluish cast of the original.

I am not a weaver but this is one step in the process of getting the thread to the loom. The object itself is a piece of art. There is something almost holy and trance inducing about standing in a room permeated with the rhythmic dhum-clop dhum-clop of looms and the soft whirring of these little wheel jobbies being hand crunk. All of this in a low lit room with rays of light escaping into it from a doorway and a window.

True Colors?

2009-11-24T01:48:00.000-08:00

Pruitt

Pruitt's choice

The new Pruitt

Bali: Tea Time

2009-09-04T02:24:00.000-07:00

Bali: Black and White Clouds

2009-09-04T01:22:00.000-07:00

Ramadan in Dhaka

2009-08-26T09:45:00.000-07:00

The curtains are up so that no one can tell what is going on at the tea stand during this month of fasting.

The proprietor of this tea cart just down the road approaches Ramadan a bit differently.

Bali: Still Life on a Black Sand Beach

2009-08-16T02:15:00.000-07:00

Nothing like water on stones . . .

This little beauty of driftwood is dramatically framed by black sand and black rocks. It now sits in my living room on top of a picture book of India.

Here is the leaf image that I promised to post. It kind of reminds me of when I used to take electronics apart and there was this mysterious green board with solder pimples all over it and a road map of silver lines.

Being a potter I think one of my most beautiful finds was these tile pieces that the ocean has had her way with. Look at those rounded edges and the soft white underglaze lines. I want to spend a month at that beach and then make a big mosaic with all of my tile finds.

Blue coral washed up on black sand.

These little net weights were another beautiful piece of ceramic that aged quite well in the sea. I couldn't figure out what it was when one washed up but then when I looked at all the fishing boats I discovered this. The blues add a perfect complement of color.

And here is the catch . . . Sardines?

Bali: Green

2009-08-14T20:05:00.001-07:00

The last blog entry was all about colors. Many flashy vibrant colors! I am now going to go more or less monochromatic on you all. The color is 'green' and a little bit of stuff that used to be green. "Green" has become a catchword among people and has gained much political and economic mileage. Green first fascinated me with it's magical appearance when mixing yellow and blue paint. As a young boy reading the most exciting book of the Bible I saw the phrase, "our bed is verdant" and after a quick visit to the dictionary discovered that "verdant" meant "green". Then of course there are all the green veggies and even eggs and possibly the ham. Of course as a son of the United States I had to know what the "Green Stuff" was if not how to spend it. Then as I grew older and the times changed and people realized that the earth could one day not be as green as it now is, it became a personal passion for many and eventually a political issue. Now the word packs a political punch and it permeates advertising and defines a "new" lifestyle. All that being said, while we were in Bali the "greens" were amazing. The "greens" of Bali are definitely worth saving. While the colors of the flowers were sanguine and in our face, the greens held back content to be in the background or rather to "be" the background, adding texture and stability to the canvas.

Palm tree trunk

Palm tree trunk gradient . . . okay, I've given you some yellow.

Pointy, prickly, poky against the fluffy fleeting.

Oh, yeah, this is what I'm talkin' 'bout. The greens of dreams!

These little green alien beggars blew me away with their persistent hilarity.

Aha, transparency . . . look at how brilliant these undersides are backlit by the sun. Look at the difference in color between leaves from the same bush. Look at the top of the leaf versus the bottom of the leaf on the right. Could you give me a box of forty-eight different colors of green crayons please?

Merry Christmas! Move over holly and poinsettias, we have a contender. I could hardly believe my eyes. Someone had to have painted them . . . oh yeah . . . someone did.

I love these green vines busy living in spite of the history of past vines behind them telling a disheartening tale.

Bordering on yellow again.

Considering the lily . . . pad. Visually the edge is what makes it what it is, kind of like a pancake (I like it buttery and crispy). Unlike a pancake this lily pad reveals a hint of the life within it with all of the veins spiderwebbing out from it's belly button (its an inny).

Okay, it used to be green and there is still a hint on the left. Speaking of veins, the sun has highlighted them quite nicely on this leaf. I would almost call this an exoskeletal leaf. I just remembered an image I should have posted with these. It is a leaf that almost all that is left of it is veins, the rest having been consumed by hungry salt water. Sorry to leave you hanging, but it will come.

Monochromatic fireworks in slow motion.

Bali: The Beauty of Color (for Shannon)

2009-08-14T18:51:00.000-07:00

One of the most fantastic things about Bali is it's natural color, especially as displayed in the flowers all over the island. This little collection is a sampling after sorting through 100's. I am remembering Shannon Wenger as I type this post. Her death has given me pause and I recall all of the color that she added to my life. She truly was a beautiful and rare flower whose life seemed so short and yet she lived it to it's fullest...without pretense. Right now she is enjoying a beauty I can only imagine, but will continue to look for in the people around me and in the good things that God has created.

This reminded me of when I would visit Science Museums and the mad scientist would ask for a volunteer to stick their hand on the electric ball. It also reminds me of fireworks. The frizzled and "burnt out" blossoms are an interesting contrast to the carefree lightness of the "one" in full bloom.

A spectacular colorful mushroom forest on the inside of a flower.

spinning teacups

Outrageous colors bundled together in an outrageous form.

This blossom doesn't actually grow in the water but look just fine there. The colors are so subtle that it looks like they were Photoshopped to get a muted restrained effect. You know it's bad when you look at nature and wonder if it's been Photoshopped! I guess it just proves the point that God can make whatever makes him happy. . . and has!

Consider the lily. It looks like a whole bunch of white-headed yellow worms are at a green table sharing ten cups of golden tea enshrouded by curtains of dreamlike pinks.

Soaking up the sun! The petal-less stems look like microphones at a press conference which I guess would make the flowers little satellite dishes.

She loves me!

One of those uncanny colors that are rare in nature and look best if they stay there in my opinion.

I love it when awkward-looking, knobby-kneed, sparsely-leaved trees burst into unlikely exuberant bloom.

Bali: The Journey Part II

2009-07-24T03:35:00.001-07:00

Air Asia. New planes. Clean. Cheap. Safe. Pay for the frills you want. I had Nasi Lamak and Chicken Biriani. In Kuala Lumpur we stayed one night on our stopover at their no frills hotel and the beds were amazing. I wanted to take one home with me. The beds were the only thing that fit in the room but what else do you really need? We booked it all online beforehand and were glad because they were full the night we were there. I guess a bunch of people spent the night in the coffee shop. I guess Air Asia built their own airport called the LCCT (Low Cost Carrier Terminal) and a lot of reviews I read online were complaining about it. I found it to be perfect, they had a few fast food and coffee shops and then within a little walk there was a Malaysian style food court where I had the best Nasi Goreng of my whole trip (I like my fried rice smoky tasting). The only thing missing is a huge playroom for the kids but we played card games to pass the time (Bohnanza is our favorite right now).

The sky as we left Kuala Lumpur. Nothing more to say.

I took this picture as we were approaching Bali, Indonesia. After I took the picture I zoomed in and noticed the volcanoes. It was surreal and awe-inducing.

Bali: The Journey Part I

2009-07-24T03:32:00.000-07:00

Flying out of Dhaka I realized how much I was in need of a break. Looking out the airplane window and the skyscape above Bangladesh almost made me weep with it's sheer beauty. This much beauty unseen most of the time by most people. . . I had the childlike wondering if perhaps one day I would be able to fly and jump from cloud to cloud until I reach my destination and plop down on the sand of a tropical island. As I came to my adult senses I realized that Air Asia would have to do for now with glimpses through grubby, double-paned glass. I did end up plopping down on a tropical island though. . . The sky, as you may see in future blogs was every bit as spectacular in Bali and it never ceased to capture my imagination.

Process

2009-06-12T17:36:00.000-07:00

I haven't blogged for a good little while. I took this shot at Sacred Mark's production facility. It is the screen, the ink and the screen print for one of the labels I designed for their line of soap. I love screen printing and walking into their multi-purpose studio was almost as exciting for me as the smell of ink was intoxicating.

This wooden spoon is for every lover of things handmade. I could not stop handling it and snapping photos of it. Of course the true beauty in it for me is when I actually see it being used functionally to make a batch of soap. It has no tangible relation to the screenprint below it except for the symmetry it added to the composition. An ephemeral artifact to highlight the heartiness and heart of this handmade tool.

I love the primary colors on this packaging for coconut oil. I am intrigued by the little Milton Bradley logo at the bottom left. The scratches add their own sizzle to the design. I am open to suggestion on what things I can make out of these tins. Lamps, purses, puzzles...the sky used to be the limit.

My Super Family and my Super Power

2009-04-26T18:57:00.000-07:00

This is my thoroughly enjoyable family (minus me) taking a rest on the uphill trek from the Zoo/Himalyan Mountaineering Institute, to Chowrasta in Darjeeling. Aren't they great? I am also great because I went into the little tab entitled and I did just that, to get rid of the white space between all four pictures. I just started deleting stuff to be honest. I made the white space skinny first and then I made it disappear altogether by changing a ten to a zero. This is my super power!

Papaya Salad: Secret Recipe

2009-04-26T17:29:00.000-07:00

I love Thai food. I made papaya salad the other day. I didn't have the dried shrimp and I used about a tenth of the chilies that they do on the street in Bangkok. Believe me, it was still plenty spicy. Last time I was in Thailand I bought a salt-glazed ceramic mortar and a wooden pestle and I just had to use it for more than dining room decor! Inside this salad are, tomatoes, fish sauce, soy sauce, sugar, green papaya (shredded with a serrated vegetable peeler), chilies, cilantro (not a normal addition), roasted peanuts (personally roasted by me), garlic, long beans, and shallots (another addition by me). I didn't give all the details, but it wouldn't be a secret recipe then would it? If I get a spare minute, I may take a picture of my mortar and pestle and add it to this post.

My Trip to Mymensingh: Unvarnished

2009-04-15T18:36:00.000-07:00

I really didn't want to go to Mymensingh.

That said, I realize that I was more than just a little bit grumpy with my family before I left.

I took a motorized scooter (CNG) to the bus station in Dhaka and it gave out at the last big intersection before arriving. We sat there . . . until the "green light" and then he pushed us through to the other side and jiggled some wires. Finally he got it started and drove me the last 100 meters to the bus stand. I wasn't about to walk, it was already 1000 degrees centigrade and it was yet morning. He didn't have the proper change so I hit him (okay, I just thought about it) and eventually a gracious (I only see the grace in retrospect) passerby shelled out 5 tens for his 50 and I was off.

I was proceeding to the busy ticket counter when a bus attendant whisked me onto the bus and told me there were seats available. I knew what that meant. Only the least desirable of seats were available. I weighed the option of spending 10-15 sultry minutes waiting in a gaggle of people or getting the show on the road in a less than desirable seat. I chose the latter and squirmed my way to the back of the bus to the second-to-last seat on the bus. I resigned myself to a bumpy ride and settled into my window seat after inconveniencing the aisle passenger. After sardining my way in there, I sat down and placed my monolithic backpack on my lap. Both of my legs promptly went to sleep without the rest of me.

I know that I have attachments to stuff and that as much as I would like to deny the material, it is a very big part of my identity. Am I materialistic? Well, let's look at the contents of my bag. First and heaviest, my laptop. It is a big part of my job and boy am I glad it is because it can also be a big fat pacifier. It is my gateway to Facebook which is how I keep in touch with a lot of my friends. It's got The Office, and Chuck on it which bring about necessary and unnecessary diversion and distraction from my current reality. The laptop is also a status symbol, whether I like it or not (I don't let myself think that I do). All said it can create a distance that I don't like. The same is true of the second heaviest item, my camera. I have a sweet little Canan S5 IS which I use a lot for my job. It is not as bulky as an SLR would be (I could spend some time drooling over the camera I really want) but bulky enough that I would like to kick myself for not taking any pictures if ever I lug it somewhere and don't use it. Along with the camera, I carry two extra sets of rechargeable AA batteries just in case. Of course they've got a lot of weight for their size. After my camera there are several more categories of things that I have in my bag; food, books and electronic paraphernalia.
The first book is a book of Sudoku. I can do the 1 and 2 star puzzles without a glitch. I can do most of the 3 stars without a glitch except for one that confounded me for an hour on the bus ride. I think I have finished one 4 star and no 5 star ones. What does it really mean? What does it profit a man? I like to think it keeps my brain sharp and helps me to develop my logic skills. That said, I think some of the most important things I've learned in life have had little to do with logic. Secondly, I have a captivating Russian Detective Novel. Okay, it's not written in Russian (that would be marginally more cool). I finished it on the bus and pronounce it a good read (for someone like me). You can check it out on my Good Reads update on Facebook. Finally, I am reading a book called Soul Making by Alan Jones. It is good in the sense that it is putting me through the wringer on many levels and validating my thirst for God and my journey in and towards "him". It is much about being and it doesn't have the twelve steps that you find in so many "self-help" books. (How can we help ourselves if we don't know ourselves? And if we truly know ourselves would we come to the realization that we really can't help ourselves?)
Now for the food; A bunch of IKO biscuits, Peach iced tea mix, mini rice cakes peanut butter flavored from where else but the good ole U. S. of A., a Fiber One bar stolen from my wife's stash (she would have most probably given it to me). I do realize that most Americans do not use the construct "most probably" but it is not incorrect (I do "need" to be "right" sometimes). I digress.
Electronic paraphernalia; a Logitech Trackball to accompany my computer, a necessity for forays into Illustrator and handy for Photoshop, a non-Ipod (a Mepod) with a Grisham audio book on it, an external hard-drive for photos and a headphone microphone gizmo for skyping (I never Skype on trips although it is not a bad idea)

Needless to say, my legs had fallen asleep with the sheer weight and magnitude of my earthly possessions. I did finally arrive in Mymensingh. Now part of the reason I had gone to Mymensingh was to celebrate the Bengali New Year which involves eating day old rice, dried fish, and mashed veggies along with the not-to-be-forgotten national fish, ilish. It also involves dressing in something other than a blue sweaty t-shirt. I decided that I would buy myself a punjabi before goig to the office and the party. After visiting several shops, I found a punjabi that was bright orange and climbed into a tiny dressing cubicle and being quite sweaty I peeled it on. It didn't help that it was a size too small. I half-heartedly asked if they had an extra large and when they did not I decided to buy the one I had on. I figured that if I had tried to take it off, it might have torn anyway. So I was off to the party where a few people commented on my punjabi, while most of them asked where my family was and one person, seeing my punjabi asked what I had bought my wife. Ha. I ate half of the national fish that I was served and twice as much alu bhorta than I was served along with many helpings of rice and a few dollops of dried fish curry. The bhorta set me on fire. I was sweating and crying and red as a beet. One of those kinds of hot that you don't feel till you stop eating . . . and so you keep eating. My stomach is still suffering although I can't decide if it is still from that or from what came later.

After work was done I was invited to join my co-worker on a trip to the New Year's Mela. I was not expecting what I found. There were tens of thousands of people lining the road, most of them wearing red, white and less frequently orange. Both sides of the road were packed with vendors selling sweets, toys, clay items and tchotchkes. The middle of the road was teeming with people and hawkers. There was no way you could decide which way you were going to go. Those decisions were made for us. Of course, I had to try the street food beginning with some homemade potato chips (yum), followed by some fuschkas which were okayish, the jhal chanachur more than made up for the mediocre fuschkas and then I washed it all down with a cup of lemon ginger tea. I called it my supper. Now, my stomach was already toasty from my lunch so I didn't think it could hurt anything to add a few layers on top.

I finally got to bed in time for the power to go off. I took a couple of showers and then decided to watch a movie. It ended up being a documentary about four guys who were nuts about Scrabble and went to the big tournament and one of them won. I found it hilarious, it makes me want to go out and watch the documentary about Boggle. Hee. I finally did get to sleep after chowing down on my mini rice cakes and Snyders Honey Mustard Pretzel Bits, and guzzling an inordinate amount of water. I guess I've had healthier suppers in my time. Oh yeah, I also did my hundred situps back to back instead of dividing them up on either end of the day. Another shower and I hit the hay.

My goal after waking was to get all of my work done by noon and head home. I started my day by rounding up all of my coffee making paraphanelia and dumping some Bon Cafe into the French Press and making myself a few cups to drink while I did push-ups, read my deep book, and pretended to think deep thoughts (you know that there is something seriously messed up when you are still pretending when you are all alone) I finally got connected to the wireless after a tech call to Dhaka. Upon checking Marita's Facebook status, I discovered that Pruitt was at home sick for the day. I was served a nice and spicy breakfast of a momlet with green chilis on toast. I tried printing on tracing paper for some screenprinting and the printer ate about four sheets and crumpled them. I tried doing a simple task in Photoshop on a colleagues computer and I had to bite my fingers to keep from screaming naughty words when his Ctrl Key did not work. What do you mean the Ctrl Key doesn't work? Is not Photoshop built around the Ctrl Key? Yes THE Ctrl key, the one on the left side (the right one didn't work either by the by). Another call to tech support. That issue never actually got resolved and I managed to accomplish the task by venturing into the menu bar (what a snob). I eventually did get enough of my work done that I felt that I could leave at about 1:00pm.

I walked out of the office into the hot sun and took the short walk around the corner to Rom III a Chinese-Bengali restaurant. I ordered a piece of nan, an order of veggies and a faluda minus the ice. They hadn't seen me for a while and told me as much. As usual they tried to get me to order meat but I declined (I figured correctly that I would get meat at home sweet home in the evening). I was going to change into a comfy blue t-shirt in the restaurant but I forgot. After eating I hailed a ricksha and had it take me to the bus station. At the bus station, I was tempted and gave in to the temptation of taking the air-conditioned bus. This meant that I couldn't leave "right now" but I thought the 20 minute wait sitting under a sweltering tin roof was worth it. I'd appreciate it that much more. After sitting down for about 5 seconds a man came and sat down beside me and started up a conversation. He turned out to be an engineer that had worked for the past six years in the ship yards in Singapore. He was built like he had worked the last six years in a ship-yard too. He'd only been home for three days after being gone for all those years and he was already looking for a job. He thought that he might go to Russia or Australia. He asked if my organization was hiring engineers and I took his number. Finally after semi-exhausting our conversation we got on the bus and amazing coincidence, we had seats beside each other. I started getting ready to sleep and he got a phone call and all of the sudden he said he wasn't going to go after all and he got down from the bus. I imagine I'll get a call from him soon. Eventually his seat was taken by someone else and we took off not more than 15 minutes late. The AC did work fortunately, only my back was sweating. The thing about AC buses is that there is a movie screen that plays loud Hindi movies. I always seem to forget this detail. So in the midst of the noise of honking and Hindi merriment I proceeded to doze, and plod my way through a few Sudoku puzzles while a young couple in the seat across from me displayed unusual amounts of affection one to the other. I then listened on my Mepod, to audio Grisham. I had fallen asleep the last time I listened to it so I backwarded it until I was sure I had heard some of it before. I must have re-listened to three chapters. I guess I'll be more ready for the test. Usually he has me hooked by the third chapter, but I'm on the seventh and it seems tedious. We finally got into the Dhaka traffic and made it to Mohakhali where I got a CNG and didn't even bargain because I was so close to home sweet home.

I come to the end of this craziness and realize that I left out some juicy details, such as the substance of the work I did get done while I was in Mymensingh, the big lady with a beard, the 10 new workers in one of our new programs, visiting the new job creation training center, the trying on of wrap-around skirts (don't ask), a visit to a silversmith . . .

Needless to say, now that I have put a lot of this into words I see how incredibly rich my life is and how much I take for granted (no I am not going to write a moral to my trip).

It is now 11:56 pm and time for 50 more push-ups, a quick game of Bejeweled and to bed I go, oddly weary for some reason and with a tummy that is still acting funny.

Now all I need to do is add some photos

Oops! Sorry . . . no photos.

Poetic Flowers of Darjeeling (with some leaves thrown in)

2009-04-11T04:54:00.000-07:00

This looked so much better in real life and no matter how much I coaxed it in Photoshop I could not recapture enough of the essence to make it work for me. I did however derive a wonderful palette with which to paint my imaginary library.

Is that an anther, a filament or a stamen? I'm not a botonologist but I do know that it takes my breath away. Such graceful, hopeful poise, bestowing substance to the flower as a whole with it's papery, ephemeral petals. (I think they are called petals . . . )

Contrast this with the one before it and it looks like a cartoon. Could it conceivably be the same artist? Is that holy fingerprint upon it? The bulbous joints between stem and bud are so quirkishly exaggerated.

The over-photographed flower? I guess you don't need to ponder long to figure out why . . . at least if you've really opened your eyes. To me it looks like a parable . . . a mystery that could speak in myriad ways.

It is seldom that I take quick photograph and then come back to it and gawk and wonder whether or not I was really there. I took these two shots (above, below) at a florist on one of the downward meandering streets in Darjeeling. My brother-in-law gallantly bought a daisy each for his new wife and his elder sister. The moment was fleeting and full of life and beauty . . . more than I even realized at the time. It makes me wonder how much I really see and it makes me want to pay closer attention in the future.

The sticker on the bottom right cracked me up.

The Toy Railroad: Darjeeling, India

2009-04-09T18:53:00.000-07:00

Boys on train, in their glory.

Breaking up the coal on top of the steam engine.

The name of the engine?
I want one of these outside of my apartment. Gold and red and blue, slightly distressed, industrial primaries.

This monochromatic image feels to me as if there is a little white sticker on top to identify the product. "I feel a package design coming on!"

I love the gadgetry of old steam engines. Each little crank and gear and valve a mystery that I am content to leave a mystery. Somehow if I understood it all, I believe I would lose my fascination.

Stoking the fires! I never realized how labor intensive the steam engine really was. We stopped several times on our short journey to ?add more water? to the engine.

At the roundabout for a little "gaze at the vista" break.

Signs Along the Way: To Darjeeling and Back

2009-04-07T18:11:00.000-07:00

I found these two signs at a scenic loop on the way to Ghum aboard a real honest-to-goodness train with a steam engine.

The train station sign for Ghum. "Ghum" is the Bangla word for sleep. I don't know about Hindi but sometimes it would be nice to live in a town called "sleep".

The puppy my sons fell in love with at the quaint tea stall in Ghum.

We never dined here but I did like their sign. The food in Darjeeling was quite good . . . especially the Indian food at the Thai place and the momos almost everywhere except for the place where Marita found a cockroach in the dough.

There are all sorts of crafts in Darjeeling but they all seem to be from other parts of India, Nepal or Tibet. There were some nice local knitted items and two fair trade shops with locally made handicrafts.

An announcement to humans that the animals prefer quiet. At the zoo.

I thought about signing up for this hardcore course if for nothing else, for personality development.

This big cloth poster had seen its better days although I probably like it now better than the original. It kind of shows up advertising for what it is . . .

Batik Training

2009-03-11T05:43:00.000-07:00

Here are all the participants of a three-day batik workshop that I led at Sabolamby Unayon Samity in Netrakona, Bangladesh (minus the photographer, Gloria Shin, plus an interloper.) In spite of a few unforseen circumstances a lot was learned by all (myself included). We had a few mishaps, lots of tea, and a lot of laughter. For Gloria and myself it was a breath of fresh air to get out of Dhaka and see fireflys, hear birds other than crows and enjoy the rural countryside.

Working together on a new design.

Toru testing out natural dyes with batik.

Creating test swatches

All of the water hand-pumped.

Washing out the wax and giving the pieces a final rinse.

At the pump.

Soaking in the dye vat.

The creators with their creations. Beautiful work!

Poly and Toru display their collaborative work. Amazing yellow with flowers.

Poly displaying her tchap-batiked silk scarf.

Rupon, not sure whether or not he wants to boil the wax out.

Sadia, Abir (my co-designer, MCC colleague), and Anita displaying their craftsmanship.

Gloria Shin records forever the "Fuska" piece. This is before the wax is boiled out.

Drying off the dye before adding another layer of wax.

Beautiful work Sadia! Especially for your first piece (in this workshop that is).

Spider web.

Cyan doodlin'

What's not to love in these beautiful pieces?

Rice Planting

2009-02-28T19:40:00.000-08:00

The beginnings of a new rice crop. Each individual sproutlet pushed one after the other by hand into verdant, striped patches of land.

Patchwork fields. I think the lush green carpet is a mass of sproutlets waiting to be industriously hand-placed in an empty field. My back is beginning to ache just thinking of the labor involved. I think that in the future I will appreciate every handful of rice that enters my mouth just a little bit more than I have before.

Shapla: The National Flower of Bangladesh

2009-02-28T19:14:00.000-08:00

I guess I'll just let these beauties speak for themselves. Sorry Dave and Nate your lily pics didn't make it to my blog. These lilies were found at a lake in Srimongal. Needless to say, the lilies were much nicer to look at than to doggy paddle among.

Srimongal Flora and Fauna

2009-02-28T11:19:00.000-08:00

What can I say? This was absolutely exquisite in real life. The photo does no justice.

I took a walk with Pruitt and Annika to find the sunset. We never saw the sun, but the sunless evening sky was nice enough. The "fog" was actually smoke from fires burning on the hillside.

These leaves were mammoth and so very nice and crunchy.

This tree with its strange seedpods was odd and somehow strangely poetic. "I think that I shall never see . . ."

Look what Dave found. The underside of this baby is where the beauty lies. The top is just plain jane black.

Containment and Sustenance

2009-02-28T09:53:00.000-08:00

Chanachur mixed with muri, shallots, tomatoes, mustard oil and other mysteries. I would say that this is the national snack of Bangladesh followed closely by fuschca and chatpoti.

The best looking chicken cage I have ever seen. The blue wall definitely completes the picture.

Jackfruit is the national fruit of Bangladesh. These are the seeds found inside of the jackfruit. They are being dried for consumption in a savory dish of some sort. I have never eaten said dish. Personally I hope it is better than jackfruit. Imagine trying to eat a fat little eel that is sickeningly sweet and every time you try to chew on it, it starts to go down your throat.

Drying in the basket.

Baskets make the best shadows.

7-Layer Tea

2009-02-28T09:25:00.000-08:00

On our way to the train station in Srimongal we stopped for 7 layer tea. It was a whopping ten Taka per layer which brought the price of each cup up to about one USD. What I want to know is how many layers you see. Sometimes when I look at it I see eleven and sometimes six. Needless to say the top layer tasted like dirty dishwater but the penultimate amber layer was an exquisite blend of cane syrup, ginger root, and Srimongalese tea dust infusion. (black tea, ginger and sugar basically) You pay thaaaat much for a cup of tea and you want it to at least sound exquisite. For you Americans who pay over three bucks for your Starbucks: This is Bangladesh's answer to Starbucks, they just don't have oversized disposable cups yet. By the way, a normal cup of tea costs about 5 Taka.

I dig this sign out in front of the tea stall. Unfortunately I do not dig the vehicle mirror sticking its ugliness into the picture plane. Above, the words "FIVE COLOUR TEA" the transliteration says, "Pach color cha". Why didn't they use the Bangla word "rong" for color? It doesn't flow out of the mouth. I have been told and have found it to be true that if an English word "sounds" better people will stick it in there. I mean it sounds better poetically, rhythmically, causing it to flow. Of course throwing in foreign words into your spoken language is proof of "sophistication and education". Think of how it sounds when people throw French words into their American English, it really jazzes it up.

Bambeautiful

2009-02-28T08:44:00.000-08:00

This little close-up is a portion of a tribal bamboo ladder that I discovered in Srimongal. I think it would make a perfect jewelry display for a fair-trade showroom.

This is not bamboo. I think it is a sisal tree. They make rope from the fiber although I like it just fine as a tree though with those droopy, floppy, thornesque outcroppings and a perfect yellow-green.

"Dad, what can I do?" "Son, why don't you find a knife and cut bamboo into strips and make a multi-layered grid?"

Gloria pointed out this color scheme on the bamboo that changes from section to section. Each ascending section got brighter and brighter.

Bamboo leaves.

Colleagues in Bangladesh

2009-02-28T07:18:00.000-08:00

Marita and I in our little mud hut. (okay its not really ours)

Lena Yual

Phil Burkey

Jodi Crossgrove

Dave Franz

Jodi and Dave chillin'

Gayle Alderfer-Fisher, Phil and Dave

Sarah Wheaton

Nathan Charles

Little Vignettes That Grabbed Me

2009-02-26T09:39:00.000-08:00

I have the "thirds" grid set up on my camera . . . can you tell? The red with the complementary background was striking. I was fascinated with the scarring of the post in the middle of the "red".

Stalag 17, The Great Escape, Chicken Run and Prison Break . . . all so very thrilling

Barbed wire also makes me think of when I was a kid. If we really waxed our sleds we could sail right into the neighbors' field . . . under the barbed wire . . . hopefully.

Somehow it also makes me think of a crown of thorns . . . sarcastic honor!

I found this net hanging in a tree. I once tried to buy a net from a fisherman in Gopalgonj but he wouldn't part with it. They had become friends. The way the light falls on this particular net was beautiful . . . though not particularly useful. I guess most of its most valuable work is done in the obscure underrealm of the river. Wow . . . did you notice those shadows?

Rickshaws are hard not to love. Just looking at their primary colors and unpretentioius, flambouyant "shajano" is enough to make me happy that they are all around me. Living in Dhaka and traveling frequently to Mymensingh I see my fair share. In Mymensingh they are almost all primarily blue (like this one). in Dhaka they run the gamut, I just returned from Bogra where I saw a few pink ones. I am working at decorating my sons' room with a rickshaw theme. I'll post the pics in the future.

This is the mud wall in a tribal village that we visited. Nature has a funny way of making the most interesting and beautiful vignettes out of decay and neglect. Did you ever notice how beautiful rust is? Rotting banana peels? Burnt desks (ha). . . see earlier post.

These blues at the pool are crazy. Perfect for a monochromatic color scheme. The shapes also add an otherworldly feel to the blues.

Water spots on the poolside. I love grids and this was to great to pass up.

Sunset on the bottom ten inches of my cottage wall at the Heed Guest House in Srimongal. Its curious what you see if you look.

This was a dark signboard alongside the trail on our hiking adventure in Srimongal. I love the Bangla script and wanted to abstract it with some green and blue . . . so I did. Here is my Photoshop rendition.

On the Rails

2009-02-26T09:26:00.000-08:00

Jensen, fast asleep as the world flies by.

I love graphic flattish surfaces. The Bangla phonetically spells the letter "r". I would like to get my hands on those stencils.

A wall next to the track, whizzing by!

"Bangladesh Railway" transliterated into Bangla. I love the blue! I also love trains . . . I don't think they are over romanticized and yet I'm not one of those "trainspotters" that cares who made it and how long it has been on the track.

Paths Crossed on the Way to Srimongal

2009-02-25T16:22:00.000-08:00

I love it when anyone looks out over their glasses at me.

I caught this shot out of the train window at the same time as the man's below. They were both quite curious about this big group of "bideshis" and excited to have their pictures taken.

This man's appearance is the kind of image I get in my mind when I think of a typical village farmer in Bangladesh. Hard-working . . . and yet time enough for tea and story-telling.

I love the way the sun hits the face of this young, somber boy. Pensive . . . for a moment, and then back to the recklessness of the game.

"Bideshis, let's go take a look. They are getting off of the train. The foreign kids are running around, playing games . . . just like us."

This pic makes me want to go shave my head and take a profile shot just so I can see the profile of my skull.

Pink is a gender neutral color in Bangladesh.

This young vendor was trying to peddle some tamarind concoction, but soon got distracted by all of the "bideshis" on the train.

Soccer at the French School

2009-02-16T04:38:00.000-08:00

Pruitt . . . played hard and proudly displays his medal for participation.

You'll never guess what he wants for Christmas.

I call her The Sunshine Girl . . . one of Pruitt's friends.

The unbridled energy of boys.

Once Riley found his friend, he was quite occupied.

Receiving some sisterly advice . . . or what?

Secrets!!!!

Last Day on Langkawi Island

2009-02-01T17:27:00.001-08:00

Rolling out to the taxi with our new Bangladeshi friend.

The "Fish Walk" that my boys did races on going to and from the beach. A fun touch of color!

A plant which reminded me of fireworks. Exploding in it's pose . . . hot green!

Pruitt . . . thrilled to be in the water . . . thrilled to be alive . . . living in the moment like so many of us have forgotten how to do.

Waiting for the Train to Kuala Lumpur

2009-01-29T19:15:00.000-08:00

The clock at the train station moved quite slow. It was scheduled for 5:30 if my memory serves me correctly.

Street Lamp Beauty

I love signage and the fence just seemed to reinforce the sign's message. It just makes you want to go see whatever it is that is being forbidden. Are we not sons of Eve? Or daughters of Adam? Or whichever combination makes you feel the most uncomfortable . . . or fuzzy . . . or politically correct.

Three perspectives of the same photo messed around with in "Levels". Which one "does it" for you?

Pruitt took this pic and I cropped it. Way to go! It's a beauty.

Riley spent most of his time at the rail station with the cat and kittens.

This was not at the rail station. It was at the zoo. I am sorting my pics in reverse order. At least I am sorting them. I might eventually get back to posting the rest of my blog-worthy Nepal photos.

Beauty in Ashes

2009-01-29T02:23:00.000-08:00

I spent $3.50 USD for a new electric hot plate (good deal!). It was a contraption made out of concrete, a clay plate with coiled wire inside, and a cord with open wires at all of the connecting points. A true disaster waiting to happen. I had the bright idea of setting it on my desk (formica/particle board) to melt a pot of wax. After a while a strange smell started emanating from the stove. I thought maybe the wires just had to burn off a little of their coating (that's what I had to do with my new kiln wires). It began to smell a bit more serious! One of my co-workers thought that maybe the two wires were crossed and that their shorting out would cause the smoke. I scoffed as I sputtered in the smoke filled room. It smelled like burning tires. Not pleasant at all. Finally after about 20 minutes of increased smoke I decided to turn it off (even though the wax was not entirely melted). When I moved the hot plate, this is what I saw. After berating myself repeatedly. I spent the rest of the afternoon surrounded by my co-workers coming by to see the damage. Now I am further humiliating myself by putting it on my blog . . . but the result is truly a piece of art. Is this not one of the most beautiful burn marks you have ever seen?

Giraffe: Pattern and Profile

2009-01-28T17:08:00.000-08:00

I can't get over these beautiful creatures. In a zoo it is sometimes hard to get shots without a fence in it. Fortunately this dude or dudette is a bit tall and decided to go for a snack in the leafy background. This is at Zoo Negara in KL, Malaysia.

Vignettes from Malaysia

2009-01-27T19:20:00.000-08:00

What can I say...I love rope and this "save the tree" contraption with wood and wire and rope was fascinating to me.

What can I say . . . I love grids. I was walking back to the entrance of the canopy-walk park with my family (me, lagging behind with my camera) and found this grid on the road. I like that it follows all of the rules and yet still does not conform. I was struck with the contrast of new leaves sprouting from below with old ones fallen from above and their complementary colors. I hereby proclaim this photo a window of contemplation. Ha! Spiritualize it. Psychoanalyze it. Deconstruct it. Criticize it. Write a poem about it. It is very versatile. I did resurrect it's squareness in Photoshop with the "skew" tool due to lack of a tripod and a latent desire to maintain the natural lighting (as if that couldn't be dealt with in Photoshop as well).

Batik Training in Kuala Lumpur Part II

2009-01-25T15:42:00.000-08:00

Yep, that's me wielding the tjanting.

Layer of wax #1

Layer of wax #4? Sideways If you want to see the finished product...visit me

The scale grows. How am I going to deal with those unsightly wax drips? Is it not ruined? Of course not . . . it's handmade.

Batik doodles on cotton.

Blue and green (for you my love), on handwoven cotton (a pain to batik).

The result of a tchap that I had made on Old Elephant Road. A tchap is basically a metal stamp used to transfer the design from hot wax receptacle to the fabric (in this case Caritas Silk). This method is used in more commercial batik applications. As you may imagine this design would have taken a lot more belaborment with a tjanting.

Batik Training in Kuala Lumpur

2009-01-23T19:54:00.000-08:00

Emelia Tan, my stalwart batik guru and a piece that I did on the last day of my training. Unfortunately it looks much better on this picture than it did when I washed the wax out and fixed the dye. The contrast between the background and foreground is now even less. Ach vell! Live and learn.

This is the new signboard for TMS Art Centre. By the way, I highly recommend the training. Warning, batik is a very seductive art form!

People and Frogs

2008-12-11T01:30:00.000-08:00

Lena Yual . . . in the shadows.

Gleeful Sarah!

Name someone? I love the blurry folks in the background . . . as a background.

Gayle pointed out this shot to me and I didn't notice 'til I got it into ZoomBrowser that there were two and that they were stacked. Observant of me.

My eldest two. (you can't see the Frisbee)

Staff training. An all female group . . . I wonder what they're talkin' about . . .

Nazrul (sp?) and ? (someone help me)

Self-deprecating laugh. It was an Office joke most likely. . .

Nipa, Sacred Mark's coordinator (actually I don't know her exact title)

Can someone give me a name? I know that she is MCCB Bogra staff.

Jahangir, Job Creation's man for all seasons.

Nouwen on Clowns

2008-12-04T19:13:00.000-08:00

"Clowns are not in the center of the events. They appear between the great acts, fumble and fall, and make us smile again after the tensions created by the heroes we came to admire. The clowns don't have it all together, they do not succeed in what they try, they are awkward, out of balance, and left-handed, but . . . they are on our side."

Old Dhaka

2008-11-16T23:01:00.000-08:00

Election Madness: No it's not just the USA

Big Buoy!

Gloria and Sarah on the river.

Reminded by of a picture from the book, "They Shall Know Our Velocity".

This guy begged for me to take his picture.

Laundry on the ferry.

Sunny days making for hot shots. (What does that sentence mean?)

Bananas and more bananas and. . .

Windowed, shuttered wall at the Armenian Church. Old Dhaka.

Cross on grave at Armenian Church. Old Dhaka.

Sarah and Jody on the street in a rickshaw.

Dave, Riley, and Pruitt aloft.

Nepal: Pink Lipstick and Other Flora

2008-10-05T04:47:00.000-07:00

This leaf is amazing.

Always a sucker for dew. I am.

This baby is about to burst into amazing color. You can almost feel the tension. I wonder if it took Lamaze classes.

Nepal: Still Life-Seeing the Unseen

2008-10-02T17:36:00.000-07:00

This stapled denim patch makes me want to make a bunch of them and staple them to a panel as a mixed media image or take a three dimensional object (a chair) and staple denim patches all over it.

This staircase was at the Shiva guest house. We had to traverse up it to visit the communal toilet. The sun casting it's shadows was perfect. The first image depicts the warmth of the sun and speaks of the hospitality and hope of a stairway going up to light. The second image becomes flat and speaks more to me of abstract beauty with its diagonal lines and semi-symmetric composition.

I shot about ten pictures of this scene and this is all I salvaged and this is even a cropped portion of the original. There was a dumb detail above the bowl on the background that was super distracting. I love ceramic and couldn't bear to not include something so here is my solution.

I usually shy away from "plastic" and "artificial" but this shot was too good colorwise to pass up. This is on the rooftop of the Shiva Guest House where we would hang out. At night the chairs were all turned upside down to keep the rain and dew off of the seat. I was intrigued by the chairs reflection in the rain soaked concrete.

This is the light that would have illuminated the rooftop had we hung out up there at night. I love light on metal. When I changed this image to grayscale, the pole, the wire and the background changed significantly but the color of the metal stayed the same. I decided the color was more of a distraction from what I was originally intending to capture.

I am fascinated by weaves; be they fibre or Twizzlers. See that denim patch? ....ah!

A prayer wheel. The pocket version. These Nepali symbols are very similar to Bangla, I think the first one has an M sound.

Dhulikhel Streets & Dave Covered in Prayer

2008-09-29T05:02:00.000-07:00

The washed out sky was a bit more bearable in monochrome.

Coke makes it's presence felt.

Strange symmetry. I love how the window is the juiciest part of the picture but it is the one thing almost devoid of color.

Quick snap on the walk home.

Dave Franz, behind a prayer flag.

Nepal: Nooks, Crannies and a Punctured Sky

2008-09-21T02:18:00.000-07:00

Nook # 1, found at the restaurant just over the hill at the top of the 1000 steps. Clay has me under it's spell.

Cranny #1 only looks about half as sumptuous as it really is. It is located in one corner of the outdoor temple that I spoke of towards the beginning of my Nepal series.

Nook #2 has the beauty of clay in the background and the beauty of pigment on stone in the fore. Of course there are many beauties that I failed to mention such as the light and the shadow . . . I'll let you finish the list.

Punctured Sky #1 why it did not burst I'll never know.

Cranny #2 just sweeps me off of my figurative feet with the subtle primary colors making their bold statement . . . whatever it is . . . I'll listen. I got this shot when Lena stopped in at the post office to get some Nepali stamps for a colleague.

Nepal: Clouds, Fences and The End of the World

2008-09-21T01:55:00.000-07:00

Read the title.

Read the title again.

. . . and again.

Finally the beauty of Ctrl (I) in Photoshop. Does it not look like judgment day? If I had time for more than one click of alterations I would select the fence from the first picture and drop it onto the second and realify it. I guess then I would need to add a dragon . . . and you wouldn't need to use your imagination.

Nepal: Flowerage and Leaf Shadow Play

2008-09-21T01:32:00.000-07:00

I saw a bunch of these swishy beauties way down the hill and I was too hurried to go down and get the shot. I thought it would just be a pleasant memory instead of a photographic artifact. God was smiling on me though because as I walked home from eating breakfast in town one morning I looked up and lo and behold there they were in all of their sensuality. Georgia O'Keefe would have fainted at the sight, of that I am sure.

This is a biggish blossom that my middle son found and my oldest son brought to me to take a picture of . . . for show and tell. Notice how beautiful the browning petals are. If you could have held it . . . it was Delicate with a capital (D). That word actually looks better italicized. Okay, it was delicate italicized.

Looking down the hill alongside the path I was captivated at the beauty of the shadows created by the sun shining through a bug-eaten leaf onto a non-bug-eaten leaf. It somehow makes me think of marriage and how in some areas one partner has some gaping holes . . . some glaring needs and how those holes sometimes bring something beautiful out of the other partner that never would have been revealed otherwise. Anyhow the whole thing is extremely coherent in my mind . . . of course. Enjoy the picture . . . all of you fellow bug-eaten people

Nepal: Aliens Invade

2008-09-21T01:16:00.000-07:00

Our youngest female alien. We were climbing the 1000 steps to the top of the hill and Annika was racing to catch up with everyone else after we had taken a cool picture of a worm. She is only alien in the sense that she is not Nepali.

Robin Seyfert, Sarah Peaceblade, and Marita my lovely wife.

This is my only youngest son, Shourov or Riley, whatever you like as long as you don't call him baby.

Nepal: Evening Sun

2008-09-21T00:45:00.000-07:00

I was moving swiftly down the path hoping to get to supper by nightfall and I looked up and it almost took my breath away . . . the sun hitting this shack from around the corner with me on the shady side of the mountain. The washed out sky spited me but a photo could never have done what the real thing did to me. I am just glad I captured as much of it as I did.

Ah . . . no comment other than the fact that I love this photo and want it framed in my . . . good question . . . in which room would it best hang? I vote for the entry way. Do you think that it would be better if I would straighten it up so that the vertical lines are more verticaler?

Nepal: Art on the Walls

2008-09-20T22:57:00.000-07:00

I love the light and the shadows. It sort of made this face look like a pudgy Zorro. The color in the original took away from the effect . . . believe me.

I didn't know that you were allowed to do this. If I ever build a brick home, I plan to make some of the bricks and do all sorts of cool stuff like this.

I will probably outsource the doors to the wonderful craftsmen of Nepal . . . using non-endangered wood of course.

I love this monochromatic vignette of an urban sketchpad. The broken window and the non-window is the icing on the cake (for me).

Must be a political symbol of sorts because I found him (the buffalo) again. I guess politics and art have never been too far apartNote the symbol inside the buffalo that the Nazis stole from the Hindus and inverted and perverted. Honestly, I don't know what it means to the Hindus and I was a bit disturbed when I first saw it all over the place.

Nepal: Doors and a Doorway

2008-09-20T21:34:00.000-07:00

The thing that compelled me to take this picture was the monochromatic subject matter being imposed upon by the red and blue of the blanket and baby barrel (not full sized). What keeps bringing me back to this photo is the leaf streamers and their shadows. I never did figure out why they hang these things outside of their houses. I don't think they are just drying pretty leaves.

Ah, the beauty of a carved door.

I chose black and white because I love the pattern in this image. It almost reminds me of an austere Klimt. I would like to stick my own arbitrary colors into this photo. In fact, maybe I will.

Wood is so beautiful. I like it in the forest and I like it as a door. I'm a hugger. A tree hugger and a lumber hugger.

Finally the lack of a door, otherwise known as a doorway. A cigarette advert. Bricks playing peek-a-boo, Ganesh, and an oblivious goat.

Nepal: A Few Faces

2008-09-20T20:37:00.000-07:00

I love the lavender and red together. Not a combination that I would usually jump for but it seems to work.

Ahh! The wonder of a child . . .

. . . and the wisdom of age.

John Deere colors with a little princess and some tree shadows and sunshine thrown in to give it all a sense of wonder and quirky nostalgia.

Nepal: Sustenance

2008-09-20T20:11:00.000-07:00

After a few days of eating at our guest house we asked if there was another place close by with good food. Our kind host sent us here. An eclectic dive with lots of art and really good food at reasonable prices. The best part was that they had real coffee. The lemon pancakes were delectable and they served the crispy rice dish in handmade bowls.

Crispy rice in a handmade bowl.

Because we are are trying to use corn as an alternative meal for the Bangladeshi poor I was quite interested to see so much corn. It also made me nostalgic thinking of Iowa and Ohio. It is also quite photogenic if you ask me.

Begoon, aubergine, eggplant or brinjal . . . is there a difference? Anyhow, it is one of my favorite veggies on the sub-continent especially if it is fixed sub-continentally.

Turnips/radishes . . . photogenic but not my veggie of choice . . . I'll take the background long green beans any day . . . even raw . . . especially in green papaya salad.

Nepal: Worship Artifacts

2008-09-18T03:09:00.000-07:00

The bell and the red cloth remind me of Christmas and yet not . . . because Christmas decorations are brought out once a year and don't really have time to gain the beautiful wear and tear that these items have.

I had to take a picture of this hole in the stone because I did not understand it. There was this collection of tridents that someone picked one out of and then he closed his eyes and threw the trident towards the stone as if he were trying to hit the bulls eye. It all seemed very fairy tale to me. I wonder what would have happened if he had hit the mark . . . three wishes?

Is this Kali? She seems very plastic as if it was a bad photo, but bear with me and look at the flower. It really did look this unreal.

I totally washed out the sky but hey I got the prayer wheels all in a row at Namobuddah.

A prayer flag wrapped around bamboo at Namobuddah. I love how you can see the landscape through the flag. I also like the idea of writing prayers on cloth and letting them flap around in the breeze. A very visual reminder that God is always listening . . . and flags are just plain cool and fun, teasing the child within.

Here is one hefty prayer wheel. It was the only thing inside the building, taking up all of the space. I should have put a Coke bottle at the bottom for reference, but why ruin a picture when I can ask you to use your imagination?

Here is the collection of tridents. This picture is my personal favorite out of this batch. I simply love all of the contrasts. The soft cloth, the hard steel. The blues and the pinks and reds. The harsh vertical lines of the steel and the soft curving lines of the cloth. I'd better stop . . . it gets better every time I look at it

Nepal: Fauna

2008-09-18T03:00:00.000-07:00

If I were a bird I don't think I would ever land.

I like crows . . . in photos.

Would this be the crows' counterpart?

I feel a story coming on . . . and the crow is the good guy.

My son Jensen, the cow-herd.

My son Riley, the animal lover.

Not my son, but just about as colorful as one of them.

Nepal: Awe and Wonder

2008-09-18T02:42:00.001-07:00

The deep greens of the forest always take me back to Northwestern Ontario. On this "short" trek to Namobuddah I saw this sight and was awed. I can still smell those pine needles. The hundreds of shades of green beckon to me, inviting me to enter into the mystery of their community.

The following two images were quick snaps as I was hurrying back along the trail wondering if I would be home by supper time to see my family. On the first snap, I focused on the mountains and then centered the picture and on the second I focused on the sky. Two totally different feelings. If I get enough time someday, I'd like to marry the first hills with the second sky in the chapel of Photoshop. (Okay...don't laugh...groan!)

In real life the little patch of green in the bottom right of this picture just about took my breath away the way the sun was hitting it. In the photo . . . let's just say that I probably won't hyperventilate anytime soon.

What is more beautiful: Clouds or Mountains? I'll take both . . . I'm getting goosebumps.

Nepal: Leaves, Walls and the Colors Orange and Sepia

2008-09-16T01:35:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I hate the artificiality of painted bricks but sometimes the chalky distemper paint does the trick. The leaves on the other hand are the handiwork of a master.

I tried converting this picture into black and white and it looked so otherworldly that I figured nobody would believe that I found it on this planet.

These walls kind of reminded me of the American southwest. I would hate to live here because I would hate to take this much beauty for granted . . . yes, it would probably come to that.

These complementary colors just jumped out at me. There was no fear in the person painting this little restaurant. (I think it would make a great clay studio myself . . . the food would stay of course)

This bowl made from leaves is another work of genius. I think that it serves a religious purpose because I found it in the courts of an outdoor Hindu temple. If you look closely you can see the toothpick-like stitches which I didn't notice until I was breezing through my photos and halted astounded. Somehow sepia did the trick for me although I cannot articulate why.

Nepal: Bells and Clouds

2008-09-16T01:18:00.000-07:00

Bells are compelling. I remember climbing the bell tower in Ghent in Belgium. I remember seeing people's bell collections. I remember dinner bells and school bells. Then of course there are the church bells. Bells don't stop there . . . these bells ring the prayers of Hindu's up to their God. These two images were both taken outside of Hindu places of worship.

Are the clouds bigger in Nepal? . . . more majestic? Or was I just paying attention? These next two views were from our lunch spot at the top of the 1000 steps.

Nepal: Kids in Nepal

2008-09-16T00:50:00.000-07:00

This reminds me of my childhood. What more fun than to feel wildly out of control bouncing over rocks in a seemingly careening wheelbarrow. I took this picture on the sly, thus the chopped off heads etc. I also did a bit of cropping.

Here is Riley, Jensen and Annika with Shady the Kid.

Other kids . . .

Jensen and another kid face off.

Nepal: Sensory Stimuli

2008-09-15T18:48:00.000-07:00

Nepal is majestic!. The macro views of the Himalayas is the most obvious majesty...but somehow the micro views of nature and culture took away my breath with an equal force. The following two images are of a flower at our guest house in Dhulikhel (Shiva Guest House). The latter one captures the beads of moisture better then the former.

There was a Hindu temple just down the hill from where we were. It was a genuine sanctuary of peace. It was an outdoor space with moss growing, water trickling, and patches of sunlight hitting the ground. It made me wish the Christian tradition would offer more spaces like this. It was man-made and yet the hand of God had taken over and transformed it into a place of rest and beauty. This image of decay in the middle of this sanctuary reminded me of the brevity of life and of the eternity of God.

As we were approaching our guest house Jensen thought we had arrived and ran up to these doors and opened them to see our abode. It happened to be the goat barn. The goats turned out to be a major attraction for the boys during our time there and they even named one of them "Shady".

The courtyard of our guest house was lush. This place, though a bit rustic, was a true breath of clean and beautiful air. It was so "other" that all of the colors seemed lusher. How easy it is when I live someplace, to stop seeing the "colors" around me. They are where I am, I am just forgetful and half blind half of the time.

This tree full of fruit was my most impacting first impression of this guest house. It made me think of the Garden . . . a bit haunting. I forget what the owner called the fruit. I do remember that they were not apricots (not everyone agreed).

Complementary reds and greens. Ahhhh! You just wait till they bloom . . .

Back at the Shiva Temple. I think this is a common sight in Hindu worship but I don't know what you call it. I think it is phallic symbol (any experts out there?) that an offering is poured over, draining out through the channel. I took the picture because I love the lines and shadows that are so geometric in contrast with the organic "stuff" growing all over it.

I took over 700 photos in Nepal so brace yourselves . . . this is only the beginning!

Don't Look Unless You Are Abir or Rafique...I saw that!

2008-09-08T10:53:00.000-07:00

Rafique and Abir, I changed a few things from what we had discussed before. I hope this gives you a good enough idea to be able to continue while I'm gone. Don't forget, 70 inches.

These hangers can be lower than 70 inches so that the "dummies" can be higher.

Female dummy. We'll talk about her when I return. No hangers on this wall even though they are on the pic.

These hangers should be 65 inches and 75 inches or close to it

Thanks for all of your hard work.

And for you eavesdroppers, I will post some before and after pics of the showroom so you can make sense of this random posting. I am helping to design a showroom for one of our partners. I have a limited budget but a great team to help make it happen.

Thirsty Leaves

2008-09-04T10:39:00.000-07:00

I took these shots this morning from our veranda. This image captures what I saw when I took the picture. By sharpening it a bit and portraying it in black and white, I think I captured a little bit of the beauty of the chemistry of water and the subtleties of the leaf upon which the droplets crowd.

Here is the unvarnished image before it met Photoshop. Critique anyone?

I love color and so with this next photo I went crazy with the tropical green that was in my memory versus the unfamiliar hues that my camera captured.

...those unfamiliar hues.

From the Roof...Mostly

2008-08-23T18:38:00.000-07:00

This mosque pic is interesting. I know that you are supposed to divide the composition into thirds but I thought it worked. What do you think? This is on our roof facing the west.

This shot was taken when Riley needed a bit of time out for playing monkey on the roof of a 6 storied building after being told it was dangerous. I love the stairs and the contrasting wall color around the corner. I took the saturation down to emphasize the light rather than the color. Comments?

Having worked on a construction crew for a summer, I am always fascinated by construction in Bangladesh. These bamboo props are holding up the floor of the next story. I just designed some batik pillow covers inspired by this structure. I will post a pic of them in the future.

Our sons have made the transition from home-school to convention school with grace. Grace International School is great. Pruitt's teacher has this class monkey whose name is Marti, pronounced "Mati" because she is British. Of course "mati" is also the word for "clay" in Bangla and he/she is clay colored. Anyway, each day one of the students gets the privilege of taking Marti home with them. Pruitt's turn just happened to be over the weekend. He was elated and showed him off to everyone. It was quite hilarious. Marti also has a diary where Pruitt had to write what he did and put a picture in it. I had fun with the photo shoot!

Testing Out ScribeFire

2008-08-16T01:42:00.000-07:00

Hello, here is my first post from ScribeFire

Gitali 7

2008-06-21T19:16:00.000-07:00

Rabindranath Tagore
translation by, Brother James

Why keep me happy?
Rather keep me in Your embrace

Let my happiness go up in flames,
Let the earth slip away from beneath my feet!
Then You'll hold me tight.

You'll pick me up and rock me,
rock me in those arms of Yours

Let the deluge rage
where my hut lies!

If You set me adrift,
I don't want to be rescued.

I give in,
My fear is gone.

Your victory, of course, is my victory-
I surrender,
and so I'll possess You.

Broken Glass, Blue Potty and Toes Meet Escher

2008-06-19T19:15:00.000-07:00

The detritus from a scuffle between my two oldest sons. Jensen pushed Pruitt up against a big sliding glass window and it left the sill, landing on the veranda below. Pruitt was a bit shook up and our guest house bill was a bit larger than usual but there was no blood.

I have been asked to do some interior design on a flat which will be living space/guest house. I really liked the blue potty and don't think I will need to paint it.

As a kid I was enamoured with Escher and tricks of perception . . . okay, okay, I am still a kid. This handsome floor paves the entryway into the aforementioned apartment. I may turn it into a psychedelic breakfast nook.

Night Flash

2008-06-08T03:11:00.000-07:00

After a sweltering day I was lying sultrily on my bed longing for relief when what should appear but a cool wind, thunder, and an amazing display of electric illumination (the poetic equivalent of lightening). I hastily arose from my inert position and fumbling, grabbed for my camera and proceeded to take (no joke) over 65 pictures to try to capture this enlightened moment. Of course I could never capture the profound and moving depth of the moment's beauty, but this picture comes pretty close.

Dhaka Sightings

2008-06-08T03:09:00.001-07:00

I went to Old Dhaka and took too many really bad pictures and this is all that survived my unscrupulous deleting frenzy. I took the picture of the sculpture below so that next time I went to old Dhaka I would have my bearings. It''s not unsightly and actually quite beautiful compared to some I've had to look at recently. I really need a polarizing filter. . . I hate a washed out sky.

Why are Hindi movie posters so fascinating to me . . . and to most artsy westerners for that matter? The picture was quite awful even though I upped the contrast, but all that aside I still like it.

For this picture I was sitting on the back side of a horse-drawn taxi in the middle of a traffic jam. Unfortunately this rickshaw driver had some phlegm that was not cooperating with my photo opportunity. Looking at it closer . . . maybe he was getting ready to spit at me . . . hmmm . . .

Water Boys

2008-06-08T03:06:00.001-07:00

My sons . . . I am speechless.

Nodir Paray (At the River's Edge)

2008-06-08T02:56:00.000-07:00

Fishnets strung out on bamboo spikes at the river's edge

Fish traps . . . a functional beauty all their own . . . especially in multiples . . . out of the water

giving center stage to a fun, little, "taken for granted" plant at the river's edge.

grass glorious grass. in Bangla it is "ghash". The word sounds as the thing itself sounds in the wind. It sounds like it feels between your toes. It sounds like it smells unless their are too many cows around. It goes much deeper than onomatopoeia . . . believe me.

Recycle

2008-06-08T02:46:00.000-07:00

From a stack of sweetened condensed milk cans. . .

. . . to the knife. . .

. . . to mosquito coil holders

And of course you can't forget the beautiful wall display of hand tools!

Morning Preponderance

2008-05-17T04:43:00.000-07:00

fan's whirring hum
birds chirpling,
footsteps below
distant train' toot tooting
makeshift bedsheet curtains hang askance
permitting brilliant sun's light pattern
entry to the room

bed made but
slept on instead of in
due to the persistence of
summer night heat
indentations like shallow graves
burying their dead
in again another
long sultry night of nothingness

mangy dogs greet the morn
as they greet one another
desperate shallow barks
possessive, possessing
likely possessed

brown window bars
frame long strips of green
palm exoticity
beauty almost lost to familiarity
palms themselves framed
with the watered down blue
of hot sky
empty save for the promises
health to the crops
sweat to the laborers
sweat to the non-laborers
behind computers
honest sweat?
who knows
it all smells the same

Ahhhh! The Sweet Smell of Ink.

2008-05-15T22:17:00.000-07:00

I walked into this project and the smell itself took me back to Myers School of Art. This Project was originally a project of MCC and they are now their own independent enterprise. They produce greeting cards and collaborate with another enterprise nearby which produces handbags, called Action Bag (another former MCC project) Both of these enterprises have products sold through 10,000 Villages although most of their buyers are from Europe and Japan.

Cloth screen prints drying. They will be made into a book bag eventually at Action Bag.

Look at that color! I envy this environment . . . actually, early next week I will be shopping for all of the supplies to start making my own screen prints. I love clay. . . but the logistics here are a bit overwhelming unless I would be here for years and build my own kiln etc . . .

Beauty Built

2008-05-15T21:19:00.000-07:00

I am not usually one to go ga ga over architecture, but when I saw that Sukanta's studio was based in this old house I thought, "wow! I could handle that." It makes it all the more interesting that it is his ancestral home and that the lost wax metal casting that he does has been in the family for ages. During the war of independence his Hindu family fled to India so when he returned with his family he basically had to start it up again.

Haunting Details . . . Fallen Angels . . . Otherworldly Beauty...

2008-05-15T20:41:00.000-07:00

the partial skeleton of a round basket under a searing sun casting brittle shadows almost as physical as the thing itself.

the startling unnatural symmetry of an illuminated being framed by the beauty of decomposition

terracotta angels . . . flesh covered by metallic sheen . . . hollow . . . fallen . . . alone together

still life:
everyday honest/exotic labor.
blue collar.
blue cuff.
blue . . .

man and woman . . . go figure.

Rice of Life

2008-05-14T05:43:00.000-07:00

rice
sustenance
the essence of food and community
obhab, scarcity
a threatening of life as is understood
beggars
thieves
pariahs
we all gather
undignified in our hunger
scrabbling in mud for fallen grains
we are one
in hunger
we are one
in need
Rice of Life
mysteriously fill us
un-mysteriously fill us

If All My Neighbors Were Potters...

2008-05-13T18:42:00.000-07:00

I visited this wonderful potter's village in Manikgonj. When they found out that I was a potter they said that I do Hindu work. I have a confession to make. I like taking pictures of pots almost as much as I enjoy making pots. All of the families in this village are potters and they all have their own kiln etc. on their property. The pots below are all stacked up and ready for the kiln to be built around them.

Here is one of the potters loading up the pots to be fired.

Here, amazingly enough is a neighboring kiln that is fully loaded. The pots been enclosed in clay walls which form the outside of the kiln. The big hole is where the fire is built. The sari adds some great color to the picture and has nothing to do with pottery.

Here is my colleague, Bita, carrying several of the bowls we bought, to the van.

Last but not least, my favorite pot shot. I feel like I have to paint it. It is so rich with shadows and subtle color contrasts and not-so-subtle texture contrasts. It almost feels as if they have already started to bake in the light of the sun and I can feel the tension, knowing how fragile a bone dry piece of greenware is.

We The Millers

2008-05-13T18:21:00.000-07:00

I can't take credit for this great shot, obviously. Jensen begged to take some pictures with my camera and this is what he framed. I quite like it even though it's a little tilty.

I love the blues in contrast to the red of Jensen's shirt and the maze of angular green machinery behind him contrasted with the organic symmetry of the thing that he is holding. We were visiting an indigo processing plant. The tool he is holding was the previous technology for stirring the dye. The green machine behind is what they use now, powered by bicycle pedals.

I am in love. With the subjects...and with this picture. Wow...look at the texture on the wall. This was a little roadside restaurant that we stopped at. The food was so good that we stopped there on the way back the next day.

The following picture is out back where we washed our hands before we ate. Behind the pump is the little outdoor kitchen. The lady who started it was quite successful from the get-go. In fact she was too successful. She had hired different helpers, but she worked them so hard that they all kept quitting. Finally she came up with a solution; she found another wife for her husband and arranged their marriage. Now they all work together. Truly a family business.

The Bicycle

2008-05-13T18:09:00.000-07:00

We stayed at this hotel in Saidpur which actually had air-conditioning which I made good use of. The only problem was that when I came out to the courtyard where our van was parked in the morning and found this good shot, my lens promptly steamed over. The first shot is a Photoshop doctored version, the second the original, and the third a variation with more diagonals and complementary colors.

Bloomin' Stuff

2008-05-13T17:53:00.000-07:00

This neat little flower pot was found on the roof of my office.

The following two are shots of the Krishnachura tree. I had totally forgotten how this tree illuminates the countryside of Bangladesh at certain times of the year. I would love to get it framed in a complementary deep blue sky, but unfortunately we don't see too much of that this time of year. I guess I'll settle for green foliage.

Pirates Three

2008-03-17T01:15:00.000-07:00

Jensen: "Arrgh! How far do you think this baby could take us Matey's?"

Pruitt: "If I turn the wheel and get this baby spinning fast enough maybe it would take off like a helicopter."

Riley: "How fast does this baby go, Mateys?"

Barrel and Tarp, Flesh and Blood

2008-03-17T01:00:00.000-07:00

Barrels rope bound upon the lorry,
Tarp and skin stretched tight.
The wonder of Containment.

Blue Gate, School Girls and Baskets

2008-03-15T03:01:00.000-07:00

The beautiful gate entering into the Charity Foundation guest house. (above)

Curious school girls amazed at the crazy antics of my three boys at play. (below)

The beginnings of baskets, wrapped around wood molds. (below)

Baskets drying in the sun, on the roof at Charity Foundation. (below)

Hemp Twine

2008-03-15T02:36:00.000-07:00

I found the process of making hemp twine amazing. The hemp is first purchased in it's raw form from a wholesale market close to the fields where it is grown. Then the fibre is cleaned and fluffed by dragging it rhythmically through a series of spikes (shown above). Then one woman starts the contraption spinning and two women spin the thread all the way across the courtyard, around a tree and back again. When they need to take a break to cook their lunch or what not, they do, and then come back to work when they can, because after all, it is in their back yard. These ladies are working for Jobarpur Enterprises, a former project of MCC's. After the twine is made, this current batch is knitted up into shower gloves sold by the Body Shop, UK. Go Body Shop!

Paper Parade

2008-03-15T00:17:00.000-07:00

As an artist, I get excited about handmade paper paper. Visiting a handmade paper project only served to increase it's appeal to me. The process itself is beautiful. Above are a stack of screens used to make paper and below is an array of paper drying in the sun.

Oh My Stars

2008-03-14T05:03:00.000-07:00

This colorful texture is the mud wall of a big oven where dyes are mixed to dye the palm leaves for the stars which follow. (My commentary will be minimal because I stuck my hand in a fan and cut it pretty bad this morning. I think my wife wrote up the story in our Millers in Mymensingh blog.)

The little tins are what the producers bring their lunch in. Most of the producers are abandoned or widowed women. Their primary export buyer is 10,000 Villages, USA

My Fun-ctional Family (because it's mine)

2008-03-05T03:12:00.000-08:00

On our long trip south to Agaljhara, Barisal, Jensen got bored and put on my shirt. Needless to say it was too hot for one shirt, much less two. Then, he proceeded to make his best super hero pose. Not bad if you ask me.

Upon our arrival at one of the job creation partners that I will be working with, our whole family was presented with these flower garlands. Jensen, Pruitt, and Riley weren't quite sure how to act.

Pruitt and Riley pretend that they are firemen outside of the guest house in Agailjhara, Barisal.

The best for last! Here is my beautiful wife, Marita with our youngest son Riley whose orneriness definitely was passed down through the Stutzman genes.