Death · Family and Friends · music

The Peony (or How Long Is The Path From Death To Birth?)

What wonderful virtue does the moon possess that allows it to rise each evening? Whether in Nairobi or Shenzhen, I see the same moon in the sky, just as I see the same sun rise and set in either city. If they are not the same, how many thousands of suns and moons trace a…… Continue reading The Peony (or How Long Is The Path From Death To Birth?)

Death · Religion · Work

The Towers of Anding City

A farmer noticed mist forming over a hill in the distance. Curious, he walked towards it, being careful to avoid the poison ivy and the sharp brambles by the grassy path. A long, sinuous vine had curved out of the ground and wrapped itself around a trunk of a huge tree. Yet this tree had…… Continue reading The Towers of Anding City

Art and Aesthetics · Death · Religion

A Poem On The Huizhong Peony Battered By The Rain

“When I wrote the Berceuse”, Chopin told me, “ I was dreaming of many things. I had just read a book from the East called the Gita. It is a religious tract that talks about life being an illusion, and how shadows are real, and how we are the reflections of what lies in the…… Continue reading A Poem On The Huizhong Peony Battered By The Rain

Death · relationships

Willow

The Qingming holiday, otherwise known as the Tomb Sweeping  or Pure Brightness holiday, has just ended in China. It is a time to commemorate one’s ancestors and typically falls in early April. After the festival, the temperature often rises, along with rainfall and much ploughing and sowing. It is a time of sadness as well…… Continue reading Willow

Art and Aesthetics · Death

Poem Without a Title 20

In late March, just as the last cool winds escaped Shenzhen and bonded with the mist over the South China Sea, I soared over the streets. The dry golden leaves of a long Autumn were finally falling – perhaps the only happening in Shenzhen that was behind the times. With every violent gust of wind,…… Continue reading Poem Without a Title 20

Art and Aesthetics · Death · relationships

Poem Without a Title 15

Once upon a time there was a beautiful woman who just couldn’t leave her home. Her wealthy father thought every suitor was not good enough for her and she never married. Too late, her face grew wrinkled and old. “It doesn’t matter,” she said to her weeping father. “I am changing into something else. It…… Continue reading Poem Without a Title 15