Postcards No.8: living for death
As this next postcard instantly reminds me, they were holding a funeral the day I arrived in Tana Toraja; and the corpse was six months
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As this next postcard instantly reminds me, they were holding a funeral the day I arrived in Tana Toraja; and the corpse was six months
As the saga of the postcards continues I have at last struck some sort of common thread. And it’s all about horses. Not all
On the tarmac at Beirut International Airport: a Comet 4C of MEA SO, moving right along … The next postcard to take my eye among
If there is any validity in the saying that “every picture is worth a thousand words” then my hoard of old postcards could generate sufficient
Souvenir of a visit that is beyond recall. Yesterday’s gone. But it lingers on, the details not forgotten unless it was one of those total
Since my recent blog bemoaning the loss of memory a bit of work has been taking place on stimulating whatever part of the brain is