I am an only child; deep down, I think that led me to write this piece. Outwardly, I let myself be inspired by my own and likely naïve perceptions of traditional Indian funerary practises and Tibetan Buddhism. In the case of the latter, I can hear distant monasteries, their bells softly echoing, surrounded only by forest and rock and ice.
At an individual level, solitude can mean many things. Drawing on my own experiences, Expressions on Solitude communicates my emotional need to, simply, be alone. Once alone, however, there is often that overwhelming urge to break back into society, to be among loved ones and friends, to talk not just to one’s self but to anyone who will listen. Here, my Tibetan monks return to mind: these people are seemingly trapped, and I dread to imagine their inner temptations. To a degree, however, I think we all go through some level of torment. Many search in vain for a kind of balance between solitude and company, or even the want for solitude and the want for company. The reality is we cannot have it both ways; single and plural are two different entities.