writer. traveller. life unraveller.
"I was waiting for something extraordinary to happen but as the years wasted on nothing ever did unless I caused it." Charles Bukowski in Post Office (1971). I really need to talk, he wrote. It’s probably better I tell you face to face. Colin’s text messages are infrequent and usually short, to the point. They’re... Continue Reading →
On my first visit to Pokhara in 2013, I witnessed the birth of a puppy on the rugged bank of Fewa Lake. I’d just finished hiking the Annapurna circuit and was devoted to the task of resting my weary bones and sipping a beer while soaking in post-trek bliss. Cradled by the mountains I’d been... Continue Reading →
Six months ago I was hit by a car. I was driving my motorbike up Doi Suthep and just a couple hundred metres from the temple on a hairpin turn, a car appeared directly in front of me. It happened so fast, I barely registered it. All I remember in that millisecond was a sharp... Continue Reading →
A cool, introspective writer and a beautiful woman. I love this quote and photo of Joan Didion... the statement so perfectly represents how I feel moving through the bramble bush that my 40s are turning out to be. And the photo... the other day in a moment just like any other moment, I noticed a... Continue Reading →
When I started living full time in Thailand’s northern urban darling, it was during COVID, and each soi I turned into held the same eerie hush. Shutters were closed over windows and “traffic” amounted to the echo of an odd car, motorbike, or tuktuk. I half expected to see tumbleweeds rolling down Thapae Road, to... Continue Reading →
I woke up this morning and realized that today is Canadian Thanksgiving. Without going into the atrocities from which this holiday derives its name—though never forgetting them—I choose to settle my gratitude on the reciprocal side of giving: receiving. To receive is truly an art—giving is much easier, I think. Receiving requires steady and generous... Continue Reading →
I spotted this epigram of sorts, “Open to More”, printed on a shop sign when walking from the bus station upon arriving in Pokhara, Nepal back in March. I’d just finished a harrowing nine-hour bus journey from Kathmandu, and was making my way on foot to my guesthouse. Taxis were available, but my legs needed... Continue Reading →
The unconscious mind is quiet and murky. It hides things until we’re forced to find them, like a riptide, deceptively calm with nothing too frightening detectable on the surface. Every so often, it offers us a peek at bits and pieces of ourselves—the fragmented and forgotten things we’d rather ignore, like the contents of a... Continue Reading →
Not all risks involve bungee cords, LSD, Bitcoin—or even poles. Many risks are quiet and internal acts of courage that challenge who we think we are. Like ingrown hairs, they’re intimate—and invisible to (almost) everyone but ourselves. Small psychic risks are the little acts of courage we take to confront our own status quo. From... Continue Reading →
In Chiang Mai, there’s a city wide clean up in effect at the moment. Well, it’s more of an eastern side of the city effort, since the old town and west of it were unaffected by the flood. Some homes were filled neck-deep with floodwaters and people are now dealing with the smelly, sodden mess... Continue Reading →
colleen thornton 