I have a deep conection with the mekong. More precisely to my friends who I have met seing the sunset in the Mekong. How many thousands pictures could one take, how many painters have attempted to capture it?
They feel to me always like the shadows of plato’s cave. Some are naturally more beautiful, than others… yet they are still shadows.
I made a friend in a bus, just like I did before all over the world. She told me she was supposed to avoid the sun and that she had started a daily war with her own fear. She took pictures of the sunrise.
I have ever since attempted to see the sun rise here by the beach. It never really worked. Till today.
Just like any other day I could not see the sun rise. I sat on the sand and observed there was light. I did not know where it came from. I looked aound thinking: above the clouds in every plane you can see it is sunny. But where was the sun now?
I sat hearing the waves and suddenly I could see a pinkish, red “thorn” fighting to slide, glide penetrate the clouds. It was a long battle.
And suddenly I realised I could not antissipate the victory of the sun unless I looked that in fact it was all over lit. I could finally see it, when I looked at the sea. There he was. There he was clearer than in the sky. There he was.. The sun!
My mind naturally wondered back to Asia. Chinese medicine. Never tackling the exact point. It is in the reflection of all that is around that you can see the whole.
Not much longer, with all that needed to be lit already lit, with all clouds mysteriously disappearing I saw the bright yellow sun in the sky.