Each path is dazzlingly ordinary
My mind
Like a city sprawled before me
Round and round, expanding and Growing
And here I remain
Not even knowing
Who, which, or why …
I wonder
Which path to take; yet
Here I am — on a path already
Is it what I want—? Is it … what I need?
I wander still
And continue to wander until —
But nothing happens
And I return to the start
And start from the end.
I wander
Kainaz Mehta
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I once stumbled upon a photograph called Lower Paradise Valley taken in 1925 by American landscape photographer Ansel Adams when reading one of my favorite books called ‘On Photography’ by Susan Sontag. The innocence of the landscape, the purity of the light...