Archive for the ‘Travel’ Category

Knife Village

Thursday, July 29th, 2010

Lai Chau landscape, Vietnam

Lai Chau, Vietnam, on assignment for my book Sensual Papers: Through the Back Roads and Rivers of Thailand, Laos and Vietnam.

I’m standing by one side of the road as my guide pisses off the other. We’ve been chasing rumors of papermakers through the back roads of the province all afternoon but haven’t had any luck. I take off my helmet, wipe off sweat and sunscreen, and admire the view anyway.

My guide walks up next to me and shares a grin. “How about we go to the knife village?” he asks.

“Knife Village?”

“Yeah they turn car parts into knives. It’s famous throughout Lai Chau.”

If a province has no noteworthy features, why not make one up?

Knife Village, Lai Chau Vietnam

The road is lined with rickety open-air shelters, each strung with knives made by the family of blacksmiths who live in a house next door.

“These are all made from destroyed cars,” my guide says.

I picture the slender blacksmiths tearing apart car bodies.

“They use car springs, brakes, that kind of thing,” he says. I nod, as though I have an idea of what a car brake looks like, and pick up a knife. It is cold and rough, a pleasing weight in my hand.

“How much do you think they’d charge a foreigner for this one?” I ask.

“Let’s find the guy who owns this place,” my guide says.

We walk over to the house where an elderly man smiles at us through an open window. He reads through the mid-day heat, and his book catches my eye. It’s not printed in the Roman script of Vietnamese. Instead, its pages are covered in a hand-written script, neither completely traditional Chinese characters nor the modern version.

Lai Chau, Vietnam

“This is a prayer book,” my guide says. “The man is from the Dao people, and this is their family’s book. The paper is….” he pauses to translate, “from China, maybe handmade, maybe not.”

I look through the translucent pages into the sunny sky. The paper fibers go in all directions. “It’s handmade,” I say. “Did he write the book himself?”

“He copied it from another book. No, this village doesn’t make paper anymore, there’s a road and they can buy everything they need from the markets.”

Except knives, apparently.

“Now he wonders how much you will pay for the knife. He can throw in a pair of handmade scissors for half price.”

Tipsy Travelling

Wednesday, July 14th, 2010

[detail]
Detail of Painting on handmade Thai paper, 70 x 100cm, 2010

My life is split between two amazing cities: Sydney and Bangkok. At first glance they seem to have little in common besides loads of fresh produce and a generous dose of sunshine. Bangkok has double the population, ten times the pollution, and costs a fraction of what it takes to live in Sydney. But both cities are a haven for long-term travelers – and the travel industry that caters to them.

Last night the Sydney Travel Tribe met in the city’s CBD (Central Business District), and we talked late into the evening, fuelled by a World Nomads-sponsored bar tab. Most of us run websites – like the Travel Tribe co-founder Ian, who runs Travellr.com – or we write about travel online. It was an excellent chance to talk travel p*rn. I saw Stuart from Travelfish for the first time in years; met Brooke, a fellow American in Sydney; ran into Dina, who’s passing through town on her trip around the world; was bowled over by the character behind Brokepacker, a new discount hostel site; met several writers; and had a look at the BUG guidebook and publisher.

All of the websites at Travel Tribe have different goals. Their creators range from burgeoning travelwriters to seasoned guidebook professionals.

But one thing we all have in common: without exception, we’d all skimp on our hotel room for the sake of an extra beer.

Spun Gold

Tuesday, July 6th, 2010

I travel to drink in the world through all my senses. When I saw this rough golden silk in Hanoi I had to touch it. The strands of silk felt like dried grass under my fingers, and I bought two yards to see if I could Cyanotype it.

Raw Vietnamese Silk

“Where on earth did you find this?” I asked my friend Van. “I’ve never seen anything like it before.”

We were in Van’s tiny silk shop Silkaa, across from Hanoi’s Cathedral. Her landlady coughed and cackled from the mezzanine above, resting her old bones before transforming the silk store into a tea shop for the evening.

“I’ve bought the silk from a village in northwest Vietnam, then take it to another village where they weave it for me. I’m headed there tomorrow. Want to come?” she asked.

It was an offer I couldn’t refuse: a weekend away from Hanoi’s sweltering afternoons, and the chance to see this straw spun into gold.

Raw Vietnamese Silk

The next morning we caught a 6am bus to the village, and the driver dropped us off near the weaver’s home.

We were greeted at the door by this orange bag bursting with silk strands – so wiry they looked like vermicelli noodles.

Raw Vietnamese Silk

After the silk is washed and dried it is smoother than before, but most of the original gum coating remains. This gives the silk its unique texture.

Raw Vietnamese Silk

The fabric has an open weave but is still incredibly strong. Van had commissioned the weavers to make hundreds of yards of it for a hotel in Saigon.

“They’ll use it for lampshades in their lounge and restaurants,” she said. It was one of the biggest orders she’d ever had, and she wanted to be sure of the fabric’s high quality during the entire project.

Raw Vietnamese Silk

While it turned out the stiff coating on the silk prevented it from being a good material for my Cyanotype prints, I’m sure it was perfect for amazing golden lampshades for a swish hotel down in southern Vietnam, and ensured Van had plenty of gold for her business for quite some time.

Tales from a Cambodian Train

Monday, June 7th, 2010

Richard

Richard was a talkative student traveling home to visit his family for the weekend

Think bandits and pirates don’t exist anymore? In many places protection money is the price you pay for going home. Bandits terrorize the weakest in society, and have many guises. But they’re not all dapper dressers like Johnny Depp.

Five years ago I was painting and printing on Cambodian silk and teaching photography to kids near Angkor Wat, and made occasional trips to explore the country and hone my travelwriting skills.

Here’s my story of a train ride through the Cambodian countryside, where I encounter a beer-swilling bandit, giggling factory workers and students headed to their home villages to celebrate the Festival of the Dead, and my perspective from the cattle car.

This has been featured at my publisher’s ThingsAsian travel website. Read the story here.

Where to Buy your Books in Bali

Tuesday, June 1st, 2010

Bookstore shelves, Kuala Lumpur Airport

You can tell a lot about a place from its bookstores. Skim the shelves and you will get a good impression of the passions and the phobias of those around you. I’ve always been a book-obsessed geek but now that I’ve been published, browsing in bookstores counts as work too.

Here’s a selection from my recent travels:

The much-touted destination of Ubud was a disappointment from the moment I stepped into the street. Hustlers, bad paintings, and crumbling sidewalks jostled for attention from middle-aged European tourists. The bookstores were similarly disappointing, aside from Ganesha Books, which had a reasonable selection of new and used books.

Amed Beach is a fishing village that sprawls along the east coast of Bali, considered a well-kept secret for those looking to escape crowded tourist spots. It draws an assortment of hippies, rastas, and creative travelers like my neighbors who played Klezmer music on their steel banjos every afternoon at the beach. The Dutch owner of GaneshAmed hotel and bookstore has an eccentric library of old and obscure books on Bali/Indonesia and lends them out for a mere 30,000 rupiah each (around US$3). They also boasted the best selection of first edition paperbacks from dead travelwriters I’ve seen in awhile. I picked up copies of Stevenson’s The Suicide Club/Jekyll and Hyde, Graham Green’s Honorary Consul, Somerset Maugham’s The Sinners, and Thesinger’s Arabian Sands.

Candi Dasa is a fading beach town with a disappearing beach. Locals destroyed the coral reefs during construction of the area’s many resorts, and efforts are now belatedly recreating some of what was lost. The tourists there have similarly unimaginative taste in reading: the town’s bookstores are filled with cheap cookbooks and beach-reading paperbacks in assorted languages.

Denpasar Airport barely stocked any books at all, anywhere. I searched a dozen souvenir stores and found only one which sold a fraction of the books available in Kuala Lumpur. Still I picked up a copy of the bizarre “novel”/autobiography Country of Origin by the colonist-turned-Rive Gauche socialist, E. du Perron. This Periplus edition had been translated from [deadly dull?] Dutch into dreadful English but is an unusual portrait of early 20th century Indonesia.

So if you’re headed to Bali, you’re best off bringing your own books – or, better yet, writing your own tribute to the place while there.

Bonus: KL [In the Kuala Lumpur International Airport the AirAsia budget airline terminal, some of my fellow travelers had a touch of anti-Semitism (note The International Jew by Henry Ford - yes, that Ford) and a taste for trashy horror (Gravedigger's Kiss and 44 Cemetary Road by Malaysian author Tunku Halim). Their travel section was confined to Lonely Planet paperbacks - not a single work of travel literature to be found in the place. Plenty of business books, advice on feng shui, and managing stress and nutrition to round out the reading of your overworked international businessman-on-a-budget.]

Down but not Out

Monday, May 24th, 2010

For the past week I’ve been knocked flat by a tropical fever here in Bali.

I am recovering slowly and exploring the island by motorbike.

Posting will resume on 1st June once I return to Sydney.

Into the Waves

Monday, May 3rd, 2010

Hokusai Wave, Cyanotype Painting on Silk, 2005

I’m disappearing for a week or more to Ko Wai, a small island in Eastern Thailand with erratic electricity and limited internet access.

Why? To finish writing the book Sensual Papers: Through the Backroads and Rivers of Thailand, Laos and Vietnam – my quest to find the papermakers of Southeast Asia.

How does one finish a book without electricity?

Easy – that’s what paper notebooks are for; they’ve worked well for writers, for centuries.

The internet is a distraction for writers hard at work on a specific project. Instant messages, emails and Twitter are prickly intrusions to writing time, written in slapdash English.

I’m happy to go on an internet-free diet before I head back to the craziness of Bangkok and my final round of cyanotype prints there.

See you when I get back…

Running for the Hills

Thursday, March 25th, 2010


Photo taken while trekking in Sapa, Vietnam, 2008

Yesterday, as on most days, I sat down to work on my paper book at 9am. In the The Artists Place cafe I lit a mosquito coil, turned on the fan, and got typing.

Dengue-ridden mosquitoes swarmed over me all day long and the temperature soared. Midday I went to escape the heat in an airconditioned hotel lobby with wifi, but still I stuck to their pleather seats.

Crazy from the heat, I booked a last-minute ticket for today to Chiang Rai in the north.

Tonight I fly to Chiang Rai, and tomorrow I’ll catch a bus to Mae Salong where I’ll write, practice my Mandarin, and cool down while drinking hot tea from the hills nearby. Mae Salong is a very unusual Thai town: a little piece of forgotten China near the Golden Triangle.

Chiang Mai Shopping List

Friday, March 19th, 2010

Last week I took a train from Bangkok to Chiang Mai, Thailand’s second-biggest city.

In my trusty notebook I had a page that read:

“SHOPPING LIST

“15 pieces of Banana Paper for the paper book,”

[Last year I'd tried to buy it but apparently it was out of season by May]

“As much paper-tree bark as I can carry for a handmade artists book,”

I ended up buying a kilo of the stuff and carrying it on the train home. Lots of funny looks from fellow passengers at the station, I’ll tell you.

“Interesting handwoven cotton for new painting, 2+ meters,”

Cotton dyed with ebony fruit

“Bleached and unbleached thick mulberry paper for ******,”

” ****** ” is a secret project. You’ll hear about it here first – well, after my collectors and facebook fans

and

“The thinnest paper of all for artists proofs”

On this tissue-thin mulberry paper I’ll test a series of very special Vietnamese cyanotypes. I can’t wait to see how they turn out – and to start sending them to galleries and art spaces – hopefully to one near you.

Blog Holiday

Friday, March 5th, 2010

Holiday Hangover

Holiday Hangover, cyanotype photogram on velvet from the Workaholics series. Click image to see more.

Two weeks ago I hopped in a car for the 12-hour drive from Sydney to Brisbane,

spent a day at the Asia Pacific Triennial in Queensland,

flew up to Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia

caught a train to the seedy town of Hat Yai, Thailand,

then another to Bangkok for meetings with my editor and creative friends,

and for the past week I’ve been offline to take my sister to our first and last Full Moon party ever, on the infamous Thai island of Koh Phangan.

Back to blogging and all the rest in a few days….

About Me

I'm an american artist with an Asian focus.
I paint sharp-witted women.
I print blue photos of disappearing places. Sometimes I work in Sydney, sometimes I work in Asia. You can keep up and connect with me on Twitter, and Facebook, and Flickr

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