Facing East - Photos from the Heart

I am a hunter. I haunt the walled lanes of far away villages, hang out in markets and bazaars, walk clockwise in a kora of prayer-spinning old ladies, earning my points from the gods and the spirits that frequent this monastery or that. I eat with the truckies, the farmers, the monks. My bearing relaxed, camera always at hand, pointing, its long lens inhibiting, always questioning: who are you, who are you? Then I stop, a face holds me, I try not to stare yet I want so much more: What have ...