I have spent a long, hot day seeing as much as possible in Ho Chi Minh City. I arrived with my wife yesterday in the late evening. Before retiring for the night, I went out to do a currency exchange at one of the many little currency vendors that line the streets near the hotel. I wasn’t fifty metres from the hotel when the first set of night ladies on motorcycles smiled and invited me to enjoy the evening with them. Another ten metres and more offers for pleasure came with smiles. All I could think of was the rape of the country’s women by the soldiers of war in that country’s recent history.
As I walked in the centre of the city, I passed my art studios where artists were busy making copies of many famous paintings. A few of the paintings on display were of Vietnamese themes such as this one, one that fits the mood I had concerning the treatment the women had received and continue to receive at the hands of men. And the painting captures so much more as you can see.
Now, I don’t want to turn this blog into a political rant, but I do want to continue using images of where I find myself in ways that talk about my soul, my spirit and my journey. Of course, the idea of rape, fits. How else could I ever explain what I have done unconsciously for so many years, decades even, to my soul, and in turn to the souls of those who touch mine, especially the females in my life.
Making peace with myself and learning to recognise anima within, I now know that all the hurts, however slight, are hurts that are inflicted upon my own feminine aspect, my soul. This is some journey, this journey of soul, this journey of a man in IndoChina.