At a fork in
the road. At a place that is forgotten. At a place that is
remembered. At a place of absolute silence. Of overriding echoes. Of
wind. Sun.
During the
trip I had the privilege of reading American Gods,
by Neil Gaiman, thanks to John Berlow who filled my Kindle with
thousands of treasures. A story of the fate of gods who were brought
to America from the Old Worlds, gods for whom there were no longer
believers. These gods were thirsty for sacrifices, hungry for
adoration. Many of them lived on the margins pumping gas, working in
slaughterhouses ...
But
here in Laos, the gods are chez
eux.
hi mayer
ReplyDeleteso nice to read your stories, it's christian +valérie from the pyrennées,
+the photos if they were a larger size would be great
I am stuck home with a broken "ligament d'achille" which is 90 days on 3 feet any way hope your constructions are getting on with olivier
best christian
Hey guys
DeleteSorry to hear about your Achillie's heel...
I'll try to make the photos bigger, but with Internet speeds being what they are I am afraid that I will be in a wheelchair before they can upload.
The house is well on its way and Olivier is, indeed, a Genius. Chances are this may well be one of the most beautiful homes in the city!
See you in Indochina soon.
Mair
That book is great. I think a movie was made based on it.
ReplyDeleteP