61 days: Hands of Tradition

Today I spent a quiet, contemplative morning at the Zorig Chusum School of Traditional Arts. As I entered, a low hum of concentration filled the air. I watched young artists, brows furrowed in concentration, meticulously carving, painting, and weaving, each movement a testament to their dedication. The classrooms were filled with the vibrant colors of Bhutanese motifs, intricate patterns on thangkas, and the scent of fresh wood shavings.

The atmosphere was inspiring; every corner held a story, every student an artist in the making. I sat in a corner, sketchbook in hand, capturing their focused expressions and the fluid movement of their hands as they worked. There was something captivating about the way tradition was passed down, each stroke and detail a bridge between generations.

As the day wore on, I felt a quiet sense of satisfaction settle in. Watching these artists at work reminded me of my own journey and the endless pursuit of growth in art. I left the school with a mind full of ideas and a heart warmed by the sense of continuity in creative expression.

This evening, as I reflect on the day, I am grateful for the moments of stillness and discovery. Thimphu has already begun to weave its magic into my thoughts.