base

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When the sun is hot and the air is full of idleness, people in the village retreat into their shady corners. There are men reading, women sorting grains of rice, an old man smoking a tobacco. The children’s noises are absorbed by the trees they climb. Dissipating, quiet murmurs of raw conversations. We talk about our ambitions and things we want for ourselves.

"I want to have my own farm one day, get married and have children who will enjoy the fruits of my labor."

"That sounds so simple."

"Simplicity hums quietly in the heart of all possibilities."

The faint aroma of coconut oil weaves a spiral of cloud as light as a thought.



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