After coming down from the high mountains back to Pokhara, I felt drained. I wasn’t quite ready to return to the civilization.
To make the transition smoother, I took myself out on a lake with a little wooden boat. I rowed in the center of the lake and just let myself be, observing the sky, mountains and water. The birds – eagles, starlings and little white cranes were flying low and in flocks. Their dance of life reminded me that I had my Jew’s harps – Nepalese murchunga and Vietnamese danmoi with me. Playing the instruments, I created a party of my own – a story I had to record into a drawing.
