Seeing Double
Squirrelled away in Room 65 of the Ashmolean Museum are two remarkable landscapes. The paintings hang side by side in the Pissarro Gallery, surrounded by a collection of nineteenth-century pictures, and have done so for over a decade. They are, to wit, Camille Pissarro’s View from my Window and Vi
white horse
[inspired by White Horse Hill in Folkestone, Kent] on the hill with the wind in my face: the hill where the white horse shines where they stood long ago, saw the rock, and began to carve where today the hiss of steam trains washes through the valley and lambs lie in the [&hellip
The Destruction of Art and Architecture in Delhi
Wandering through the streets of Old Delhi at dawn is unlike anything else. While the crowds of market sellers, imams, and cycle rickshaws lie asleep, the last remaining traces of the Mughal capital loom over you through the morning mist. One discovers a whole new set of marvels on every trip: the m
Wenjiang
When I lived in Wenjiang District, Sichuan province, I used to walk home along the river. The reflections from the lamps lining the riverbank created golden pools of light, calling to mind the meaning of Wenjiang, ‘warm river’. Walking past groups of dancers, I would attract stares from old men
