I am elsewhere #02
An exercise in how to do nothing, 167 step staircase and a resident frog.
I am elsewhere is a series dedicated to my current voyage. With me is a number of pencils, pens, paper and cameras to document encounters and observations.
Published somewhat regularly, join me as I entice you with drawings and imagery of place while indulging in practices that bring awareness to my place in time.
I am elsewhere #02: Koh Jum.
Ko Jum is a small island and a splendid exercise in how to do nothing.
My bungalow was hidden high on a hill amongst trees overlooking blue water, spying a distant glimpse of neighbour Phi Phi on the horizon.
Beginning as a three-day span quickly turned into six.
I spoke to a fisherman as he picked through his nets, naming his distribution and price per/kg, saw ingenious hand-made fishing basket crafting and heard of a harrowing escape from the 2004 tsunami.
Swimming in an empty bay each day offered an overwhelming sense of seclusion, rarely seeing or speaking to another soul.
I welcomed limited visitors, including the green frog residing in my bathroom and the crab-eating macaques early in the morning and afternoon, their small curious eyes unafraid to lock eyes with me.
Sunsets in Jum were some of the best I have set eyes on. Beginning softly, intensifying in each moment. The colours were vivid, resembling a painting rich in harmony and contrast.
Leaving Jum felt particularly emotional, like leaving a piece of myself behind.
Place
Time Points
On the notion that time is an everlasting state of being, Time Points is an awareness practice. One which reflects on how time unfolds for us as individuals.
(P.S. If you missed out on my explanation of Time Points you can catch up here).
Practising Time Points in Koh Jum involved walking down 167 steep steps to reach the ocean.
Sheltered by tall trees and green shrubs, the path descended with no sight of the ocean. I could hear the waves break as leaves crackled under my feet with each step.
Each step dissimilar to the next, I took care and time to make the plunge a slow reveal.
I found that each decision to journey down introduced a hidden rule of time into the equation.
Swimming and observing were the main practices I engaged in, restrained from other distractions, simply because the climb back up was so monumental.
One sunset, I watched as hundreds of swallows dove above the ocean, inviting me to join them.
Climbing up felt like an uninterrupted rhythm, unless you shared paths with a monitor, making sure to stand still as it slyly slid past.
Near
Feeling a pull toward the jungle and consolation from Jum resident Rosa, I first make a stop in the city of Krabi.
Somewhat ready for a change of pace, and unprepared for the lack of relief from the heat.
From elsewhere,
