islandship

We circled the island.
Ship around ship.
Photo: Squaw Island, Sebago Lake, Maine

arc

Rock, rising.
Photo: At Sebago Lake, Maine

country

In a clearing, this stands.
Like a country.
Photo: Rock and lichen, Sebago Lake, Maine

wintersweet

There is a flower called wintersweet.
It comes towards the end of the season.
Photo: Ferns and petals, Sebago Lake, Maine

whittemore steps

Maybe thirty years ago, my parents bought a little land beside a lake. Slowly, finally, a house was made. And decks, steps, hammocks.
This hemlock has lived here all along.
Photo: Whittemore Cove, Sebago Lake, Maine

promise, lightness

I remember when these friends wed, in a red room. He said to her, 'all I want is your happiness' and she promised the same. Both of them wearing sneakers for the 'red event', both with a new lightness.
Two other sets of friends are soon marrying, promising. Yes to their light. Our light.   
Photo: At a wedding of friends, Hong Kong
One Chinese term for wedding is 'red event'.

every word is a name

In Egypt, this is a god of writing.
Excuse me, I didn't record the word
of his name.
Photo: A postcard from years ago

very

I'm on my way to this very joy.
Photo: My nephew, Sebago Lake, Maine

neighbo(u)r

I once slept near the bottom of this building.
Photo: Abandoned building site, Manila, Philippines

paper islands

Something beautiful might happen.
Maybe an archipelago.
A bark peninsula lifts.
Underneath, paper skin.
Photo: The Paper Tree, Hong Kong

I am thinking of home

Today is World Refugee Day and I am thinking of home.
My agency runs a workshop called 'Without a Home in the World' about the millions of people who face displacement. We will soon publish a book with the UNHCR of the same title (in Chinese), and will continue to fight for people's basic rights. We want to take away the last 'e' from 'refugee' and make a refuge.
Home. Where we can be ourselves. Where one wave safely follows another.
Maybe where we sing.
Text: I write this from my home in Hong Kong. I borrowed
some ideas from Ian and from Oxfam Hong Kong.
Photo: My home in New Zealand

rosy food

Those two black shapes almost look
like keys to press.
Click. Instant rosy dinner.
Photo: A Queenslander house, Australia

records and ghosts

Today we can celebrate. An exhibition opens with a friend. At Gladstone Avenue.
For 52 weeks, we paired image and word, the said and suggested, in a dialogue called Ghost Records. ‘Ghost’ is past and present, present and absent. ‘Records’ is for the counting, the safekeeping, the touch and sound of the black LP. The words and images come from Hong Kong and New Zealand, and places in between.
Photo: At a concert, Wellington, New Zealand

you, me and coffee

Nothing like a fresh cup
of coffee with a friend.
Photo: The Tin Hut, New Zealand

one person, one chair

I like how the chair holds power,
while the single person in the field,
humility.
Photo: The Basin Reserve, New Zealand

here, there

On that island is the remains of a house. Maybe from this chair, you can hear all the words ever spoken there.
Photo: Sebago Lake, Maine

one horizon, two

Seems like the horizon is running away.
Photo: Paekakariki, New Zealand

on the surface of the earth

Place your foot on the surface of the earth...

Place your foot on the surface of the earth the way an emperor would place his seal on a royal decree. A royal decree can bring happiness or misery to people. It can shower grace on them or it can ruin their lives. Your steps can do the same. If your steps are peaceful, the world will have peace. If you can take one peaceful step, you can take two...
Text: Thich Nhat Hanh, and how many times have I thought of walking this 100km event
Photo: Featherston, New Zealand

night breathing

Trees in the night.
We breathe so softly.
Photo: Tree and gas/petrol station, Statesboro, Georgia, USA

believe, boots and the end

Mark Twain: A lie run around the world while truth is putting on her boots.
Martin Luther King: I still believe that standing up for the truth of God is the greatest thing in the world. This is the end of life. The end of life is not to be happy. The end of life is not to achieve pleasure and avoid pain. The end of life is to do the will of God, come what may.
Photo: Sebago Lake, Maine

warm living

Today is the birthday of a sister and of a friend, and I send them this image, warm and living.
Photo: By the fire of my New Zealand home
'Black Bob' smells the pizza dough, rising

the revolutionary personality

Every morning, before I do anything else, I read from the book, Peacemaking - Day by Day. Here's an excerpt from the entry for 9 June: 'Fromm describes the 'revolutionary personality' as a person who is independent, who has the capacity to identify deeply with humanity and who has the ability to disobey in the interest of more fundamental values.'
I like the flame of that one candle, like the arm of a revolutionary. Strong in its peace.
Photo: Peace sign for an anti-war concert, Hong Kong
Text: Joan Chittister

friends and clouds and birds

A friend of mine is taking a flight today, thousands of miles away. I texted him last night for a featheriest flight.
Photo: Sebago Lake, Maine

still breathing

I saw these fish early one morning,
when they were still breathing.
Photo: Fish at a market, Philippines

over park, over sea

This is what I see when I go to do stuff on the Internet. I sit at a table overlooking a park, the same park where we held those one hundred and fifty thousand lit candles on the night of June 4. This photo was taken a few days before the vigil. The orange trees in the canopy are called flame trees.
Photo: View of Victoria Park and Victoria Harbo(u)r, from Hong Kong Central Library

cells of one very living thing

The annual June 4th vigil. Hong Kong.

Our one hundred and fifty thousand tended candles are like cells of one very living thing, in unqualified freedom.

Photo: Flower petals near a bomb shelter, Paradise Street, Stuttgart, Germany

build, rebuild

I call someone 'dream man' for the way he makes people want to be in the spaces where they are.
He builds. Rebuilds. Repairs. Dismantles. Smoothes. Polishes. So carefully.
He tells me a story of two people who always wanted a window. To see sky, land. To see a field of plants they are tending. But they could never find a way to make the window with only certain money. They gave up and wrote 'a window' on the wall instead.  
Dream man arrives. He is making their window as I type.
Photo: A drive-in warehouse for builders, Masterton, New Zealand

a blinking tower

Almost fluorescence.
Photo: A medieval tower, southern Germany

touching sky

Planetip.
Photo: Wing of airplane

when

I like the before and after.
This is before.
Photo: At a reception, Germany