Happy Nepali New Year
Wishing you a joyous 2082.
Today is Bikram Sambat, the Nepali new year, and marks the first day of 2082 on the traditional Nepali calendar. The calendar begins with the coronation of King Bikramaditya in Gregorian year 57 BC, hence the futuristic number. The holiday represents fresh beginnings for Nepalis, who traditionally clean their homes beforehand and resolve conflicts with neighbors and family. I also notice that new prayer flags are hanging.
This morning after breakfast, the lodge cook came out with an attractive red sauce for me to sample, so I stuck my fingers in the bowl as per Nepali eating habits and tried it. That was a mistake—he was offering me tika, or tilaka as it’s known elsewhere, the auspicious daub on the forehead worn on holidays. The kitchen staff is going to be laughing about this for years to come. As tikka consists of rice and food coloring, there was no harm done except to my pride, which I gladly offer for sacrifice on this happy occasion.
Content at DMJ is free but paid subscribers keep it coming. They also have access to Dissident Muse Salons, discounts in the print shop, and Friend on the Road consultations. Please consider becoming one yourself and thank you for reading.
Our current title in the Asynchronous Studio Book Club is Art in America 1945-1970: Writings from the Age of Abstract Expressionism, Pop Art, and Minimalism by Jed Perl. For more information, see the ASBC homepage.
The current exhibition in the Dissident Museum is David Curcio: The Point of the Needle.
Worthy sacrifice indeed. Happy New Year.
I must add some additional color because I happened to be on a rare video chat with Franklin at the time this occurred, and Franklin himself cannot begin to convey to you the kind of grace with which he walks about the earth. He popped that tikka in his mouth without a thought that it wasn’t food. As soon as he realized the mistake, not only did everyone else laugh, but he did. He laughed at himself, at the cultural blunder, at the logic of the assumption that led him to it, and even enjoyed how the staff were laughing. Then, when they brought more out he called out asking if they had more because it was tasty. I imagine another scenario in which a person (perhaps me) did this but flustered in embarrassment, retreated in shame, or angered at others for allowing the mistake. It is proof to me that Franklin is a good man. I also imagine that this stance in the world is exactly translated into the studio. A blunder happens, and he rolls with it. He observes what’s going on, forgives himself for a misstep, and finds a way to make magic with it. Watching this small experience unfold was its own magic. I’m blessed to have witnessed it. 🙏