Travel Series: Indonesia

Travel Series: Indonesia

Travel- a rejection of stasis; a crossing of cultures, a confusion in localism, a modus operandi of forgetting home.

Routes begin with the assumption of movement.

Home. The shaper, the net, the birth and the blood.

Routes always precede roots.

I am still in the temple. I point my toes to the back of the shrine and I breathe.

And it chimes. And it chimes

The elephants traverse. But they stop and they drink.

And I stop. And I drink.

I share homes and each become my own overnight. Sometimes, I stay a little longer. But I do not overstay.

I am in a taxi and I hear humming. The markets are loud. I do not know their dances and I do not speak their tongue. But I know that an orange is an orange and a mango is a mango.

I explore the pages of my weathered book. Many more pages will turn before the earth turns again and I arise.

At 2am, I stumble home down the beach. I have lost my shoes but i have found my feet.

Words by Sophia parvizi-wayne

Photos by Darius parvizi-wayne