Dust

We started at the home of an American ex-pat who showed us around her house and art collection. Both were exquisite.

Boarded the bus for a temple in the countryside with a stop to visit another artist. Our last stop was to a temporary installation by a contemporary Vietnamese artist. Her exhibit was a collection of dust--sounds a bit suspect, I know, but her concept was about memory as she collected dust from her childhood home and school. They had both been razed for new building projects.

She wrote a moving poem about the dust she had collected that resonated with the group. The traffic and pollution is overwhelming. Plus the noise. Cars, buses, motorbikes are all beeping at each other and at pedestrians and bicyclists. The cacophony is extreme and wears you down.

The photos are the ex-pat's home nd the countryside. Tonics against the dust and noise.