Some of the flowers at JJ park.
2010—EtK
Jatujak Park, Bangkok
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Some of the flowers at JJ park.
2010—EtK
Jatujak Park, Bangkok
Photoset ยง2.
Second set of photos from our trip to Kanchanaburi.
3rd July 2010—EtK
Kanchanaburi, Thailand
Some photographs from a crack-of-dawn trip to a temple in Kanchanaburi. First we had to gather offerings and prepare hundreds of tiny bags of rice, honey and flowers. Then travel, change into temple garb, wait for a procession of monks to come past, have lunch, travel to some other temples because that one didn’t want the things we’d collected, and lastly pack up our things and drive home. First time for me to do that and to see people arrive at 5am in their hundreds to loud gonging and chanting that created an ominous and expectant atmosphere as a dawn chorus.
3rd July 2010—EtK
Kanchanburi, Thailand
A Khao Yai-an gang of monkeys unfamiliar with basic road safety: Don’t pick each others hair in the middle of the street.
26th September 2010—EtK
Khao Yai National Park, Thailand

A falcon outside the bizarrely-located falconers club on Phaholyothin. There is another one on the left trying regularly to spring its leash. Two weathered-tethered-feathered-Zephyrs altogether.
Around this time I also saw a pet rooster parked outside Central Lad Phrao. It had a little bowl of water and didn’t seem surprised to find itself outside a shopping mall.
2nd September 2010—EtK
Phaholyothin, Bangkok
This street writing has been around for months along Vibhavadi running about 150ft in length. Every time it rains, the author—one of the straggly-haired homeless—goes back over it again with his charcoal pen. The writing says something about Tops (the supermarket chain) and something about Centre Point and something about a dog and a puddle. It’s full of diagrams and equations and ratios, arrows pointing here and there. I walked past once as the author was standing by a tree. He nodded sagely at me so I thought it best to nod back, as if we were part of some underground organization whose communiques are made through the medium of graphite graffiti. I was assured that the text is crazy gibberish and makes no sense but…
One day I was in a taxi to Central and there was ANOTHER GUY. He was carrying on the work of the original guy who was also there overseeing the project. Now, often a crazy guy will write something on the street. But why would two crazy guys maintain the same script over a period of months together?
Volunteer translations welcome.
Unknown date—EtK
Vibhavadi-Rangsit, Bangkok