If the US is anything - it’s the land of distraction. I promised myself a few things after I returned from Sri Lanka. Ask me how successful I've been.
- Exercise more. (ha!)
- Cook more curry at home. (Not so much... :( but in my defense, we’ve been doing some work on the kitchen.)
- Begin sculpting and allow myself time to be more creative.
It’s the neglect of that last one that makes me the most sad. I had hoped these posts would be a continued reminder of creative excitement renewed on my trip. Instead, these post have become something I’ve allowed to be a placebo of sorts... waiting another week before actually moving forward on a series of sketches and thumbnails. While I've been very good this year about a better balance between work and home, I've yet to pick up a sculpting tool.
But the posts are still a reminder of what’s important - and by that I don’t just mean my little list of new year’s resolutions.
Today’s post is coming late- but it’s here. And while writing might not give me the same joy as the feeling of clay in my hands, it’s still pretty damn fulfilling. I hope my two regular readers (Hi mom, Hi Genny!) enjoy this post.
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The Trincomalee leg of our trip was intense, and the Trincomalee area itself a wearying place to travel.
No stranger to war or tragedy - in some areas of Trinco it was hard to tell where the damage came from. War? The Tsunami? Years of neglect?
Though Sri Lanka is healing, it's impossible to travel throughout the country without it's tragic history scratched like barbed wire into the corners of your mind.
My family, standing along the beach.
On our way back from a long day of driving, we were asked if we had any interest in stopping by the Trincomalee World War II War Cemetery. Without hesitation I said yes.
Admittedly, I had no idea Trincomalee had been attacked by Japan in World War II, nor that Sri Lanka's location played a strategic role in the war... though in hindsight, it makes perfect sense. I suppose I've generally paid the most attention to the section of World War II history that relates to my mother's side of the family.
The cemetery honors veterans of the war - and is strikingly diverse. Such is the beauty of Sri Lanka.
Trees begin to grow along the graves of Muslim soldiers.
This is the caretaker of the cemetery, responsible for the meticulously and beautifully maintained grounds.
The appreciation of my family's cultural history and its connection to a larger, global context is both overwhelming and inspiring.
I can't promise I'll be more creative this week than I have been over the past few months, but I'll try. Writing this post certainly helps.
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