Phnom Penh, Cambodia
At the tail-end of six months traveling around IndoChina I was bone-spent. The wheels of my carry-on suitcase left skid marks on my soul that had leaked out my pores and got dragged along the pavement. A wise drunk said, as he puffed on his cigar, that on days he felt depressed, “I just go to bed for three days and four nights, pull down all the shades and just go to bed… I come out of that completely re-enlightened for two or three months”.
So I flew to Phnom Penh and hid. Found a cheap boutique hotel, holed up in my room and emerged only to eat, swim, and drink gin and tonics at dusk. I never left the hotel, not once, not to shop, not to try out the local cuisine, not to see the sights. The weekend I was there I took a single photograph. It was of this blue tile that wasn’t particularly striking, but which I found soothing. I stared and read and stared and showered and stared until the magic of this commonplace mandala helped thread my soul back in its proper place.
An intellectual says a simple thing in a hard way. An artist says a hard thing in a simple way. I think you belong to both the category 😉
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I am blown away that you think that. Thank you.
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haha 🙂 You are welcome 🙂
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Oh that sounds divine! As soon as my youngest is old enough to cope with me being away overnight I intend to go on a luxurious retreat and do exactly this for a few days. Bliss.
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love this approach. not everything has to be OMG EXCITING all the time, give your mind a rest and most of all: time. very happy I’ve found your blog!
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i love it when people say this– that they are happy to have found me. we all want to be found… 🙂
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Awesome way to travel and a cool photo. I’ve been hiding at different hotels myself from time to time. And Bukowski? Genious!
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Buk’s books are my self-help….
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Good advice. I have never read Bukowski except for a few pages of Ham Sandwich. Got to get on that.
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Really? Reading your blog I thought well this guy read the man. Buk’s poetry is brilliant as his prose.
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Well for those few pages of Ham Sandwich I felt at home. It’s funny because I have maybe four of his books in my new apartment. We just moved in here with Wife’s sister and she’s apparently a fan.
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