Traditions & Technology : An Ode to the Matka

md
The Matka 
(Traditional Indian vessel for storing water)
coiled, handbuilt
Electric Fired, Stoneware

______________________

The dying ancient
Traditions
No longer kept secret.

In this new world
All dimensions and planes
Of existence
Open.

This Earth
This Clay
Being Human.

We are Artists
Creating
Life.

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Vipassana Full, Mind Empty

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
Drizzly beautiful Dharamkot morning.
Big window in the little room.
First morning after Vipassana.
The center bell rings in the distance..wakes me.
Green trees dance with the breeze.
Fresh green after a night of rain.
Mountains about.
I watch as the clouds roll in.
10 mins and the clear sky is filled with clouds.
They roll in from the ground.
Like smoke rising after a fire is put out.
Like a movie recorded over a couple of hours..just 10 mins. Rolling, curving between the old trees.

How will I ever leave, when there is so much to do –
Meditate, Meditate and watch the world from my window.

Tea & bread at the stall outside the center gates.
Walk in the forested path to the next village.
Tears come rolling down.
Why am I crying?
Old pine trees surround.
Snow peaks just behind.
Stroll along the rocks on the curving path.
The sun touches the snow so bright.
First rays of the sun to reach.
First few rays which cut through the clouds.
The tears do not stop.
Who am I? Who am I?
The trees answer.
But I can’t grasp.
The birds answer.
The breeze, the distant plains, the far away lake.