Xinjiang

I had a great time. Almost perfect (but for the wife’s absence).

Ten days of pure photography. Click, click, click, and, hide behind those clicks. I could get used to a lifetime of seeing the world through a very expensive row of glass pieces (including my ultra-light corrective spectacle lenses).

I love reading. I am beginning to love photography. Work for the eyes.
I love diving. If the experts are to be trusted, that is no good for the eyes. Ah.

Great landscapes. Colourful fellow travellers. Sufficient food, surprisingly, including various versions of the humble Naan. Bucketsful of grapes, my favorite fruit. Cold weather. Unforgiving facilities, at times. Forgiving teachers. And, the right dose of encouragement.

I am back. A bit more at ease with myself.

I still have a job. And, in some ways, I don’t.

Yet, New Zealand, here we come.

Approach

This is what two dear others have concluded about me, as they pondered my internal strife:

“He does not know how to leap. But, he will build a bridge.”

I wonder.

Orientation

I am beginning to speculate that I am an east-of-the-Prime-Meridian kind of person. Perhaps even an east-of-Istanbul kind of person. In the larger scheme of things, I mean.

Why so?

Exasperation

What do I want? This is tiring.