The hills are alive...

Of all the postcards you've sent me, I think these two are my favourites. Just the intricacy and the colours (which these photos sadly don't do justice to).
















Akrura Takes Krishna from Vrindavana - by B.G. Sharma

























Manjushree - S.I.E. Jhochhen Kathmandu

And you wrote, "Today the birds are singing and it is sunny. Really, without sounding like a scene from The Sound of Music, I am in the mountains of Darjeeling and the hills are alive with something."

Before John Howard gave rats a bad name

In 1999 you wrote to me, From one Rat to another, wishing you an inspirational coming spring on the road to the golden cheese.
You doodled a road leading up to a piece of Swiss cheese, and added Mmmm, so tasty!.
I can't remember but maybe 1999 was the Year of the Rat?
(Illustration--what's left of it after removal of old Blu-Tac and stickytape and dogears--by Binny Hobbs.)

The terminal abode

I like that expression. It comes from my Natalie Goldberg book, Writing Down the Bones (Shambala, 1986), from the chapter called Use Loneliness:

When I was separated from my husband, Katagiri Roshi said to me, "You should live alone. You should learn about that. It is the terminal abode."
"Roshi, will I get used to loneliness?"
"No, you don't get used to it. I take a cold shower every morning and every morning it shocks me, but I continue to stand up in the shower. Loneliness has a bite, but learn to stand up in it and not be tossed away."

So where are you on this cold night, I wonder? Haven't heard from you in a while. Will you write to our blog again at some point? I will go on alone for now. Come back anytime. I miss your poems and your photos and your paintings. I miss you.
I remember there have been times when you have imposed a media blackout on yourself, cutting yourself off from newspapers, telly and internet. I wonder if as part of your Buddhist studies you are cutting yourself off from all the noise again? But I feel sure you'll return.
Well, I don't know where you are tonight but I know that in 1995 you were here:


















You wrote, "Really great to be here and be alive."
Meanwhile, I was here, thinking the same thing...

...maybe here?