Fifth Journey Day 85: Three Loops of the Same Boy
Date: August 1, 2025
Location: Samarkand, Uzbekistan
I arrived just after morning, when the light was still soft but already getting stronger. Samarkand greeted me with its brightly colored buildings — turquoise domes, gold-threaded brick, and the slow quiet of history pressed into the tiles. But I didn't stay in the famous square. Instead, I walked down the alleys behind Registan, where the buildings lean slightly and shadows stretch without symmetry.
I spent two hours tracing the outline of shadows. I'm not drawing objects. I'm drawing the absence of light. There are doorways, pipes, hanging laundry, and a pigeon that moves quietly. The cool shade against my hand as I leaned against a mud wall felt more real than the shine of mosaic. I used charcoal and smudged it freely. I wasn't worried about the details or how it would look, just the rhythm.
A boy rode past me twice on a bike. On the third loop, he slowed down, looked at my sketchpad, and nodded slightly before continuing. That stayed with me.
The silence here is different from the silence of the mountains. It's warmer and more hushed than empty. It's the kind of quiet that people who know how to wait experience. I didn't take many photos. I didn't say much either. Mostly, I listened to the sounds of footsteps and the wind moving through the brick.
It's nice to take a break from all the chaos. I let my attention return to the feel of things, the temperature, the corner of a broken stair. I think I needed this today — not to be amazed, but to feel grounded.
Tomorrow, I might visit the mosaic tombs. But for now, I'm letting the weight of dust and charcoal settle into my fingers.
