Listen, My Children...

Every Little Helps

Thursday, December 11, 2003

Vande...


Through a typographical accident en route to Ravenwood, I ended up a a lovely, albeit very occasional, picture blog of India. I want to go back; I may yet, this summer.

Scroll down that post to the third picture and following.

That is a massive temple (she grossly underestimates it to be the height of my apartment; the caves next door, which look like a parking garage, are twelve stories of stone; I'd estimate this temple at around fifteen normal stories) carved out of solid rock.

Someone imagined it. Someone sat on a rock one day, chisel in hand, and thought, "Hmm. I'm on this lovely expanse of rock, and I'm a stonemason. What could I do? Little elephants? Devotional murtis? nah, that's boring. How about a TEMPLE THE SIZE OF MY VILLAGE?"

And then he sits there, on that rock, with his chisel, and dreams up a temple. Then he begins: chip, chip chip.

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