Andre Bolourchi

PopUp Ashram*

Founder Michael Liss explains "PopUp Ashram* began as a unique collaboration with Design Hotels ™ to create yoga & spiritual retreats for people who are drawn to yoga or are simply asking the larger questions about life, but haven't figured out exactly where to turn, what to try, or found a practice that speaks to them. PopUp Ashram acts like a wading pool where you can experience many traditions without having to dive into the deep end. What better place to be truly open to new experiences and ideas than on vacation at a beautiful hotel."

*This is Your Wake Up Call

Check out popupashram.com for more information!

Corral Trekker

"All that we are is the result of what we have thought. The mind is everything. What we think we become." - Buddha

I better write this before I forget: (written sometime in late May, 2007)

   I'm in Airlie Beach, in northeast Oz. Gateway to the Whitsunday Islands, located at the southern most point of the Great Barrier Reef - 74 breathtakingly beautiful and largely undeveloped islands. Here, the artistic touch of creation at its best is on display. Beneath the water's translucent jade surface, the reef is furious with marine life. Rich sunsets ignite the skies and burn long into dusk. Endless horizons, utter tranquility, uniterrupted beauty....

   My experience here has been partly experiencing this paradise on Earth. But it has also, and in large part, been a training ground - forging and conditioning wits and emotions, determination, and, ultimately, self-worth.

Big word, I know.

   I spent a month (most of April and part of May) on the Coral Trekker, a tall ship (imagine a smaller pirate ship) complete with eight sails and a capacity of eighteen passengers and crew. Bob was the skipper: a man so weathered by the sea, so salt-crusted, and so very sharp- tongued, yet of so very, very few words. It was only after more than a few canned whiskey n' cokes did he ever so slightly quiver a lip.

Now is the right time

I'm home! Much has changed in less than a month. I posted this pic a few weeks ago, when I was at a life-changing career crossroads, unsure of what to do and afraid of where I would go. Ultimately, the choice was simple. I chose to trust myself. Plenty of interesting stories are on the horizon. I can feel it. I'll also post some pics of my stunning studio apartment. Shout outs are always welcome as to how to furnish the place. I have some ideas (I'm looking at Crate & Barrel and West Elm) but am open to (tasteful) suggestions. More to come, including my interview article with Master Chef Wolfgang Puck.

"What is the meaning of life? Anything you want it to be." - James Frey

Over tea

  Last night I was flipping through a journal from a fews years back when I lived in Spain. This is the entry that I came across-

...As he sipped his tea, he thought back to what he had endeavored. It all seemed so far from where he was now...his heart was pulsating gently, breath relaxed, his face calm and serene- a bit weathered now, but after any great storm things are never quite the same. He sipped his tea, and became entranced by the solitary flame of the candle at his table. The flame, he imagined, was not unlike him- alone on its own journey headed toward an inevitable end. Every now and again straying from its course with every breeze that passed, yet able to shine upright, brilliantly unflinching. Until the next breeze passed.

     Home would have to be one of his stops. Home. He didn't want to think of it right now. He was here and sipped his tea, lost to the charm of his flickering companion. He was exhausted. Rest was what he really needed. The tea was simply an excuse to people-watch and hopefully find another person to talk to. Here, amidst the calm of tea and candles, he reflected upon his predicament. Time would tell...Until then, well, even until then seemed out of reach. So he sipped his tea, knowing that decisions would inevitably be made that would forever change the remainder of his journey.

For now, at least he had his candle.

"Though the sun is gone, I have a light..."

                                                       -Kurt Cobain

What a difference a day makes

June 23, 2007

  As the train wheezes its way to the northwestern city of Chiang Mai, my thoughts still linger in Bangkok. It was only a day, but one without time, expectation, or consequence.

And, in part, that is why I enjoyed it so much.

  But it was not only the sheer thrill of spontaneity that made that first day in Thailand so utterly unique. It was much more complex than that...

   It was the three of us, foreigners to a new space as well as to each other. It was the outdoor food stand where we first met- with its boiling, curried noodles, and all things deep-fried. It was the night bazaar's constant, manic blur of light and beautiful color. The clattering screams of people, taxis, and everything moving. Tthe distinct tang and decay of Kho Sahn Road. The stagnation of the air- soiled and dripping. The absence of breeze.

   It was a listless afternoon in the park, as we sought refuge from the infusion of filth and dampness of the city. It was riding in flimsy riverboat ferries, fumbling through mud-water canals- almost Venice, only crude and confused, and nothing remotely like it. It was a vague awareness that, somewhere within reach of wherever we stood, slick palms and fingers shook and agreed upon the asking price of discounted humanity.

  But above all else, however, it was such an enjoyable day simply because of the three of us. The circumstances that brought us together. The newness of our jokes, the freshness of each other's faces. And the simple fact that we were no longer alone.

  For now, we are to each other, makeshift allies, of sorts- with no other past than the shared events of the day before. Aware of freedom to disband at any moment.

  Yet deep from within, we remain united by everything about this very place that, for us, makes it foreign. It is a particular unease- some may call fear of the unknown- that holds us together.

At least for one more day.

Not the way I planned it

July 9- I was on the border of Thailand and Laos, in a cheap hotel. It was the early stages of Hepatitis A. So close to crossing over into Laos, my next destination, but so very far. So far in fact, that the next border that I actually would cross, (one week later) was out of Thailand, and non-stop back to L.A. My attempt to circumnavigate the world is postponed, for now. At least the travel insurance was a sound investment. But now that the hellish days have passed, the last remaining obstacle in my path is only the taunts from friends reminding me that it was, perhaps, a stranger's fecal matter, mixed with a little bit of soy sauce and Phad Thai, that led me down this hole. I showed my friend, Mike, these pics.  "Ha! You look like shit, Andre! Well, I guess it's true what they say- you really are what you eat."

Do I look like I'm laughing?

Crocodile Bobby

   

May 2007, Cairns   

    My birthday. I'm alone. No friends or family. Cake? Forget it. Presents? Please. Don't kid yourself. It's just me. 

Good grief, Charlie Brown.

    My location - Cairns, Australia, gateway to the one of Earth's seven natural wonders- the Great Barrier Reef.

    What am I doing here? I'm looking for my way onto a boat, a ship, a yacht, a dingy, whatever. Just as long as it floats. I've only just begun my journey to circumnavigate the globe and have a month to kill before my next destination: Bali. 

So, on this very blessed day of my 24th blessed year, I find myself in the land of Oz, wandering the avenues of a town in the northeastern corner of the continent. Cairns itself is rather uninspiring. So I waste no time. I need a vessel. Walking up and down the streets of the town center, scanning bulletin boards and fliers on walls and storefronts, I read signs, "For Sale", "Wanted", "Driving North?", "Driving South?" "Need a lift?", "Looking for a lift", "Piano lessons?", "Wanna buy a parrot?" (okay, the last one I made up). Midst paper chaos, I spot a small notice that reads, "Looking for one single guy, and a "Lady". Skipper (60's) heading North. Contact Bob." 

Gold! 

I dial him up. "Um, hi, I'm calling about your "crew wanted" ad.

A voice croaks, "Yup. Come on down to the ol' yacht club, mate. I'll be takin' the piss."

-"Um, okay. Wait, uh, 'the piss'?"

Click.