Flying in the general direction of the sun

When my scheduled time to depart Barrow approached, I did not want to go. I wanted to stay put. There were two reasons for this - one, because in the midst of all this darkness, cold and sorrow, I had felt the warmth, the light and the love that Barrow is capable of producing. Never misunderstand me - Barrow bears more than its fair share of turmoil and hurt - as do all Native American communities that I have ever spent time in - but at its core, its base, wrapped in the heart and soul of the people who have lived here for so long and borne so much there is something strong, loving, giving and spiritual. This warmth and strength can truly manifest itself in the time of no sun, in a time when beloved ones have been lost and people have come together to nurture and support each other.

And so it was on this trip.

Two, in the darkness itself I found a degree of solace that I could not have had I been in a place where the sun rises each day. The darkness of the day itself was like a blanket of warmth and comfort draped upon me.

I am a person who likes to walk, regardless the weather or the presence of polar bears, of which daily sightings were reported in town. If I walk on the roads, people always stop to give me a ride, so, as much as I could, I stayed off the roads and walked across the lagoon - two, three, maybe even four times a day. I would walk, under that dark or dim sky, all alone and it felt good to me. Depending on the direction that I walked, the wind might bite into my face with the sting and threat of frostbite but even so it felt good to me.

And there, alone, walking under a sky free from sunlight, I would talk aloud to Soundarya. It wasn't always a pleasant conversation. When someone that you love so dearly dies at their own hand, even though you know she was suffering such bitter, painful, grief herself, it leaves you with many questions and additional hurts.

But it was always a good conversation, a loving conversation, one that I needed to have. Even though the rational side of my brain knew she was not really there, somehow, it always felt to me that in some way, she was present and that she wanted to communicate with me as badly as I wanted to communicate with her.

So I spoke out loud and then in silent pauses listened for words I could not hear, but could only feel, or imagine that I felt.

I did not wish to leave this environment, where I could walk upon the lagoon in the dim and dark and converse with Soundarya and then go sit amidst the warmth of friends who would feed me caribou, whale and fish -people not related by blood to me but who are my family, none-the-less.

Perhaps this sounds crazy and perhaps it would be best if I were to just keep all this to myself, but this is how it was and I did not want to leave Barrow.

I knew my loving family awaited me at home but still I did not want to go. 

I took this picture as I walked off the lagoon, about 8:30 or 9:00 AM, enroute to Pepe's for breakfast.

And here I am at Pepe's - taking a portrait of Joe The Water Man, son of Fran Tate, owner of Pepe's. Joe became famous in Barrow in the days when no one had running water piped into their homes and he drove a water truck, to fill their tanks and barrels.

He never wore a parka or even a jacket or sweat shirt, but always just a t-shirt, no matter what the weather. Twenty below, 30 below, - 40, - 50... there was one day that the official weather bureau thermometer is said to have broken after the mercury plunged right through the bottom of it, but a number of thermometers around town, including one that I myself laid eyes upon, registered - 63.

And there was Joe The Water Man, delivering water in his t-shirt.

On days with wind chills of - 90, - 100: there was Joe, in his t-shirt, delivering water.

Joe does not drive the water truck anymore. He keeps my coffee hot and makes certain that I get two packets of raspberry jam with my wheat toast - unless there is no wheat bread to be had, and no raspberry jam either.

This happens sometimes. 

He does not really wear this hat to work. A fellow from Anchorage who calls himself The Mad Hatter and who likes to frolic in Cuba and Thailand had come to Barrow to sell hats and had let Joe try this one on.

I thought he looked pretty good in it.

Up the street from Pepe's is a water tank, with a Nativity scene in front of it and the guiding star of the east above.

Now here I am, at just a bit after 11:00 AM, sitting in the Alaska Airlines flight that will fly me to Anchorage. What you see beyond blowing a mini-blizzard into the air is a snowplow, clearing the runway. I had checked to see if I could postpone my departure and leave on another day, but every single seat out of Barrow had been booked into January.

I did not want to miss Christmas with my family, so I decided that I had better leave as scheduled.

And here we are, lifting off, departing Barrow.

We wing our way south, toward the sun, toward the glow of dawn/twilight. I was raised to believe that the sun always rises in the east and sets in the west.

In Alaska, this is not always true. The sun can rise in the south and set in the south. It can rise in the north and set in the north.

It can rise and set not at all.

See that little stream down below? Before I crashed it, I would sometimes fly my airplane, the Running Dog, right over that stream, between those low mountains.

It looked very different down there than it does from up here, but even so, I recognize it.

You can see that although we are still a couple of hundred miles from the sight of the sun, the amount of light is on the increase.

Now we pass over the northern flanks of the Brooks Range...

...now the southern.

We reach a point where the sun still fails to shine directly upon the ground, but it does shine on a couple of clouds below us at an altitude that I can only guess at. I won't even try.

As we near the Yukon River, very near to the place where the Tanana flows into it, the sun manages to strike the ridge tops, but not the valleys.

The White Mountains.

At one point I turned around and saw that there was a sunbeam, traveling with me, right there in the plane. It was the little son of Olemaun and Thelma Rexford, owners of Aarigaa Java and Aarigaa Tours, in the arms of his dad.

Oh, I have forgotten the name of this little one!

But someone can remind me, I'm certain.

And in front of me - another sunbeam, fast asleep.

By the time we reached the Alaska Range, the sun was up, but it was overcast and we could not see it. Soon, we were descending, and then were flying low over Cook Inlet - on final to landing in Anchorage.

Margie picked me up at the airport and then we drove to Taco King for lunch. Except for Rex, who had just driven from California to Anchorage with Ama and had then caught an airplane to New York or Newark and from there on to New England, all of the Anchorage family met us there.

Kalib came with his spatula and blanket.

Next, we were driving home to Wasilla.

I am now days behind. I will try to catch up tomorrow, when I will bring you back to Wasilla with me.

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I sneak Margie out on a date, eat raw fish, drift with ravens and spot a cop and a driver-less car on the Wasilla highway

As you know, this past Sunday afternoon I was happily working away in my office when Jobe suddenly appeared at my door, snatched Margie away from me and took her back to Anchorage to stay with him and Kalib for the week. This was because Lavina and Jacob were each traveling during different times of the week and so they needed Margie there, to care for Kalib and Jobe.

I do good alone, don't mind it, much, because as long as I have a camera, a computer or something to write with, I am never bored. I always have something to do.

More to do than I can do, in fact.

Even so, come Wednesday afternoon, I found myself longing to see Margie - to see a movie with her. We used to go to movies every week, when I would be home, but we have fallen off.

So I jumped into the car and rushed to town.

Whoever was in this car was headed into Wasilla even as I was headed out, Anchorage bound.

I snuck her out of the house. We then went to the movie, "Hereafter" and after we went out to dinner at Samurai Sushi, where we had never eaten before.

Margie doesn't care for sushi, so she ordered Teriyaki chicken. I ordered this plate of sushi and sashimi. For a moment, I was hesitant, because our bank account is once again just about tapped out - and we have an auto-withdrawal payment coming Monday that is bigger than the combination of all the funds left in all three of our bank accounts combined.

On the other hand, I had submitted an invoice the day before, which hopefully will be paid in time to cover everything, I had not been on a date with my wife in a long time and that sushi looked really good.

Here is my sushi and sashimi, as seen through my iPhone.

Oh, damn! It was good!

How do these Japanese chefs make raw fish taste so good?

If I take a fish and cut it up and eat it raw it is not going to taste like this.

These guys really know how to cut fish.

Margie's chicken teriyaki was delicious, too.

I know, because she let me sample a chopstick full.

I then drove Margie back to drop her off Jacob and Lavina's house until Saturday night. Do you remember that feeling you sometimes had when you were young and you had taken a girl you liked out on a date or maybe you were that girl and you were with a guy you liked and then the date was over and you were pulling up to her parent's house to drop her off?

That feeling of how good it felt to be with this person, how much you had enjoyed the date and now you still had the good feeling, but a little ache, too, because this girl with her parents and then go?

That was the very feeling that I had as I pulled into Jacob and Lavina's driveway with Margie beside me, after our date.

Only I wasn't taking back home to her parents.

I was taking her home to our grandkids. 

Jacob had returned from his travels and Lavina would not leave on her's until the next day, so they were both home.

Kalib was watching Dragons - probably for the 10,000th time. I got between him and the screen to take a picture of him. He peered around me to the left so that he could continue to watch.

I shifted left, to try again. Kalib peered around me to the right.

I shifted to the right. He was getting a little disgusted with me.

It's okay, though. He has all the scenes memorized. And he's probably seen them ten times since then.

Jobe was hanging out with Muzzy.

Maybe Jobe will go to Arizona some day and be a bull rider.

I don't really want him to be, but it might just be in his blood, so you never know.

Then Jacob caught me and Jobe together. Jobe loves me. Jobe loves my beard. One day, I want to take him out in a canoe and catch fish with him.

Maybe by then I can learn how to cut them right and then we can sit on the bank and eat sushi and sashimi, as fresh as sushi and sashimi can be.

"Grandpa," he will say. "That was damn good raw fish. I sure hope that some day, I can grow a beard just like yours!"

So that was Wednesday. This was yesterday, back in Wasilla. I had to go to Wal-Mart to pick up some medications.

There were ravens there, waiting for me.

Wal-Mart raven.

Then, as I drove home, I saw ravens surfing the updraft, over the railroad tracks.

It was a windy day. Ravens love windy days.

I love ravens.

For those unclear about the difference between ravens and crows, they are related, but ravens are bigger. Much bigger. 

Ravens make a stronger impression on you than crows do.

Sometimes a raven will say, "never more."

A crow would never say that.

Never.

While I was stopped at the light on the corner of the Parks and Palmer-Wasilla highways, I noticed a cop car pull into the left turn to my right with lights flashing. Then the cop stopped, right there in the left turn lane and got out of the car.

This seemed to me to be a very curious place to make a traffic stop. Then, as my light turned green and I had to go, I noticed that the car the cop had stopped behind did not have a driver.

It was empty - just sitting there unmanned in the left turn lane. Nor I could I see anyone just standing around, who might have once been the driver.

Just another of the usual strange sights that one gets to see just about everyday, right here in Wasilla, Alaska.

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Rex and Ama invite us to dinner, cats attend, hog camera

Rex and Ama invited us to dinner last night. Ama has been staying with Rex in his basement apartment at Melanie's, so they did the cooking upstairs at her place, where the eating would be done, too.

When we arrived, Diamond was waiting in the window, ready to take control of my camera.

Rex and Ama cooking - chip dinner, made with blue corn chips, green enchilada sauce, avocados, black beans, lettuce, tomatoes, a healthy dose of chili powder and oregano and some sort of meat substitute as Ama is basically vegetarian - although she did try some pickled maktak when she visited the house.

Bear Meach wants to eat, too.

Three cats gather around Charlie, knowing that he will feed them. First, they must allow him to give them, "high pets."

Charlie just got a haircut. As for his beard, he plans to take it to an international beard contest in Norway next May. He said that I should take my beard there, too, and enter it.

About the only category that I could qualify for would be "salt and pepper"... more and more salt, less pepper. Maybe by May, my beard will be all pepper - or perhaps snow. I could then enter it in the "snow drift" category - but not yet.

I do not yet qualify for that category.

Bear Meach turns his back upon us, but pays strict attention to what we are doing.

Charlie and Epizzles.

Rex.

Now, I feel kind of bad. I had meant to get some good pictures of Rex and Ama, but somehow I didn't. I think it is because most of the time I was out in the living room and she was in the kitchen and then when she was in the living room and we were all eating I was too busy eating to take pictures.

Afterward, I found myself feeling so fatigued and tired that I failed to follow through.

She got her job in Alaska, but doesn't start until December. In the meantime, she is going back to the Bay Area. 

When she returns, I will make up for this lapse.

BTW: Charlie thinks Rex should take his beard to the Norway competition, too.

Or maybe it was the fault of these cats. Sometimes, cats can be camera hogs. Diamond is a camera hog and has been since the first day that I met her - probably even before that.

I was wondering where Lisa was, because I had not seen her for a long time, what with her work, her studies, her trip to Oregon. I hadn't seen much of Melanie, either, who also went to Oregon, but Melanie was right there in front of me, so I knew she would be there.

Melanie called Lisa to make sure she and Bryce were coming.

Jacob, Lavina, Kalib and Jobe arrived. Kalib was thrilled to see Melanie.

Jobe was thrilled to see his grandpa - as you can clearly tell.

Finally, Lisa and Bryce arrived. Diamond greeted them at the door.

Lisa zapped Jobe with a red beam from her phaser.

Lisa, Lavina and Kalib.

We visited and talked about many important things. 

And then I had to go. I was just too tired to linger. Ama was worried that I should not drive, but Margie has hard time driving at night and I always come back when I am behind the wheel.

So we hugged all and left. 

This is what I mean about cats being camera hogs.

I should have photographed Rex and Ama, but Diamond forced me to photograph her instead.

Damn camera hog!

And you watch!

Next time I get together with people and these three cats, they will hog my camera again.

That's just how they are.

As for me, I still feel tired, fatigued, and exhausted.

I fear fatigue is perpetual now.

Exhaustion a way of life.

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My final day in Utah - Julie and her family, minus the chipmunk; surprise birthday dinner with a silent Bacon scream; back in Wasilla - Carmen's new do; Mahoney horses

This is Matthew Oliphant, youngest son of the very first niece that ever came to me, Julie, and her husband Kerry. We have not spent a great deal of time together but, my favorite memory of him comes from the time period after Mom died. He was very small then and I took a picture of him eating a chocolate chip cookie. It was part of a batch that his mom and brothers and sister had made and brought over for Dad and those of us who were hanging out to mourn with him.

As the rest of us visited, Matthew kept eating those cookies and by the time they left, the cookies were all gone. It's possible his brothers and sister might have helped a bit, but Matthew was the real Cookie Monster.

I didn't see him with a cookie on this trip, but I have a feeling that he is still a cookie monster.

Julie is the daughter of my brother, Mac, Rex's tall twin. Mac got his tall genes from Dad, whereas his twin and the rest of us all got Mom's short genes. Mac grew to be 6'4", Rex 5'7".

The tall genes were passed down to Julie, who also married a very tall man. All of their children are very tall and whatever age they are, they are taller even then their grandpa Mac was at the same. Six foot is nothing to them at all. Even in junior high years, six-footers have always stood short beside them.

Matthew is only seven, but he already stands eight foot, nine-and-three-quarter inches tall.

Well... maybe I exaggerate a little bit... but give him a couple of years.

It takes a lot of cookies to fuel such growth, but Matthew is up to the task.

That's Kerry off to the side and the nine-year old hefting the two-by-fours is Charlie. 

And this is Chase - Chaseninja. Now, the thing is, I may be the short one, but I am still the toughest member of the entire family and everybody knows it.

Well... maybe I boast a little too quickly. At nine, Charlie weighs in at 156 pounds and plays tackle on his Pee Wee football team. If you doubt that he hits hard, notice the abrasions on his forehead. He wears a helmet, alright, but when he hits someone he practically shoves his head right through that helmet and right through his opponent.

That's what those abrasions are from - the impact of his forehead against the inside of his helmet.

And yet, tough as he is, when his mom mentioned that a neighbor had some kittens, he lifted his hands to the praying position and began to plead that she let him adopt one. I was a little slow and caught the moment just a second too late, after he noticed the camera lens was upon him.

The family, minus daughter Riley, in the backyard. Riley had been to the dentist and, as I noted earlier, felt like a chipmunk and refused to be photographed.

Next time.

Julie and Chase.

In the evening, just before I drove to the airport, turned in the rental car and boarded the jet back to Anchorage, I had dinner with Ada Lakshmi, Rex, Tom and all the children of Mary Ann except for the one who had gotten married the day before, plus their husbands and boyfriend. We ate at Thai Gardens, just blocks from the house where Mary Ann and Greg live. The wedding and all its preparations had exhausted Mary Ann, and so she and Greg had stayed home with the two dogs.

As to the son who had gotten married and his bride, nobody had seen either, all day long, even though they were not scheduled to leave for their honeymoon in Vermont until the next day.

I did not get to say goodbye to them.

Tom's children who had not just married planned the dinner as a surprise birthday party for their father. He was completely surprised, especially since his birthday is in September. His children had not been able to be with him then, so they celebrated it now.

As you can see, Tom is now four years old. Either that, or each candle represents 15 years.

Eric, Amber's adventurous, mountain-climbing boyfriend.

And then I found myself in Wasilla, once again, and totally exhausted once again.

In the afternoon, I went to Metro Cafe at the usual time and found Carmen at the drive-through window. She had done some fancy things to her hair and wondered if I would notice.

Of course I noticed.

Carmen's beautiful new hairdo, from the back.

Scott was there, working, too. His cancer battle has been rough, with radiation and chemo subjecting him to ordeals the description of which make me cringe and I will not pass them on here. But he is a fighter, determined to win this battle.

We talked a bit about our separate wanderings into the same places on the Arctic Slope. We thought it might be good to one day write up some of our stories, side by side.

Shoshana came to the window to say "hi, stranger," so of course I photographed her, too. She is not there on Mondays and Wednesdays, as she has class those days.

After I left Metro, I did the old drive, down past the Mahoney Ranch and the Mahoney horses. I don't know why it hasn't snowed here, yet. I hope it does, soon. I saw some footage from the Alaska Federation of Natives Convention in Fairbanks and there is snow there and of course there has been snow on the Arctic Slope for awhile now.

Some may wonder why I am not at AFN and why I was not at the Alaska Tribal Leaders Summit and the Youth and Elders conference that immediately preceded the convention. I have been going nonstop for months, traveling here, traveling there. I am exhausted. And I can't afford either the time or the expense to have spent this week in Fairbanks.

So I am here in Wasilla. I plan to stay put for a couple of weeks, if I can get away with it.

I have not seen Kalib, Jobe or any of my children except for Caleb yet, but I am going into Anchorage this afternoon, so maybe I will. If I do, then readers will, too.

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Thos and Delaina's wedding day, part 3: We plunge in our forks in American Fork, where I experience the curse of the Wasilla traveler in the age of Palin

We left Rex's car at the Draper Temple and he rode with me south toward American Fork, the plan being that I would drop him off on the way back and he could then pick up his car. The wedding lunch was to be held at the Rodizio Grill. As has become my way, I did not bother asking anybody for directions, but just entered "current location" and "Rodizio Grill" into the Google map feature of my iPhone and it laid out the route for me.

That route ended at the freeway exit into American Fork, so I figured that once we got there, I would just pull off at the exit, zoom in on the iPhone map, spot the exact location of Rodizio's and drive right to it.

As we drew near, Rex said that I needed to take the Lehi exit, the one immediately before American Fork, and then go west. I chose to listen to my iPhone and continued on to the American Fork exit. As I did not know which direction Rodizio's was from the freeway, only that it had be very close, I took Rex's word and turned right, to the west. 

By the time we had traveled 100 yards away from the exit, it was obvious there was going to be nothing to the west, so I pulled over and took out my iPhone. Rex was insistent that I should have taken the earlier exit and then gone west from there.

So I did a new iPhone map from the spot where we were parked to Rodizio's and it drew out a half-mile route to a spot that appeared to be right on the freeway, right near the entrance for north bound traffic on the east side.

Rex still insisted that I should have taken the last exit and that we needed to go west. He said he had got his information from Mary Ann.

"But it shows it right here," I pointed to the map on my phone.

However, because it showed Rodizio's looking as though it sat right on the freeway near the entrance, a slight amount of doubt crept into me. What if the iPhone did not know where Rodizio's was, but had merely given me the route to the American Fork exit?

But this could not be... iPhones are smart! It had to know the location of Rodizio's!

Anyway, it showed me the route to that spot, I started to follow it and we reached this stoplight. Rex called Mary Ann for clarification. Just beyond, there was a fork in the road. One fork continued on the iPhone route, crossed over the freeway, then veered slightly north and came back to the spot where Rodizio's appeared to be right on the freeway. As the sparrow flies, we were maybe 300 to 400 yards away.

The other fork led back onto the freeway, going south, toward Las Vegas. 

The light turned green, I started out on the iPhone route, but Rex ordered me to turn right, onto the freeway ramp. And you know... he's the big brother. I did. As it turned out, the iPhone was right. There was road construction to the south and the next two exits were out of commission. 

It took us nearly 20 minutes to double back and return to the dot that appeared on the iPhone to be right on the freeway but which was, in fact, Rodizio's, sitting right alongside the freeway.

Never doubt your iPhone - not even when your big brother speaks.

See that mountain? That's Timpanogos, 11,749 feet. I climbed it once in the winter and slept on the side, in a snow cave. Nothing compared to Denali, but a nice little adventure, anyway.

About eight months after Jacob was born, Margie and I dropped him off at my parent's house in Sandy, then we drove to the north side of this mountain, which is forested and has glaciers near the top. Robert Redford's Sundance ski resort sits on the north slope of Timp, which was also the setting for much of his movie, Jeremiah Johnson.

We climbed to the top.

Coming back down, we reached a slide on the glacier. Margie took a seat at the top of the slide but looked at the steep slope below her and was afraid to go. She just sat there, immobile. So I gave her a little push on the back and down she slid, shrieking.

I plopped down and slid down behind her.

When I reached her, she was both shrieking and laughing, scolding me for pushing her, yet happy that she had made the slide. 

In Rodizio's, we found the bride and groom, not eating, but milling about, entertaining the guests.

I took a seat right beside Delaina's dad. "Where do you live?" he asked me.

"Wasilla, Alaska," I answered.

"No!" he shot back, in genuine disbelief. "No you don't!"

"Yes," I said. "I do."

"No you don't!"

"Yes," I held my ground. "I absolutely do."

"Oh. Well... you're good then."

And he never asked me another single question. It was as if the fact that I live in Wasilla told him all that he ever wanted to know about me.

When I travel Outside, I frequently find that many people peg me as soon as they learn where I live. Right wingers will often immediately embrace me as a soul brother. Upon hearing the word, "Wasilla," left wingers, who were friendly and open one minute before, will sometimes suddenly shy away, cease all conversation and want nothing more to do with me.

Folks...!!!! We who live in Wasilla are individuals. We do not all think alike. We do not all eat the same food. Some of us prefer coffee to tea and many don't drink either. We do not vote as a block. We don't all hang out together and we don't all worship Sarah Palin.

Some of us remember how life was before this odd phenomena that is her burst so irrationally upon America and we wish it could be that way again.

We want our Wasilla back!

He is a physical therapist. He got into the field as a student at BYU. He went on to work with the BYU football team and other athletic teams, which caused him to spend much time traveling. He spent many years in Texas.

Now he does his physical therapy on inmates at the Point of the Mountain Utah State Prison.

Occasionally, an inmate will get hostile. Every inmate that he works on is restained, usually either by hand or leg cuffs, depending on what part of the body needs therapy.

Now, I will just move quickly along. The food at Rodizio's... hey, it's not quite as good as Iñupiat and native food, but it is mighty fine and tasty. You start out at a salad bar that has about 30 selections, some of which could qualify as the main course, then guys like this keep coming by with skewers of everything from spicy chicken to spare ribs, to grilled pork and, as you can see, grilled pineapple.

That pineapple... whoa!

I want some more, right now!

Can't have it.

Maybe never again.

A once in a lifetime experience.

I bet they have it in Hawaii.

Even better there.

How can I get to Hawaii?

This is the turkey, wrapped in bacon. Rex has two pig valves in his heart and so does not eat anything wrapped in bacon.

I do, though, and it was... heavenly!

Mary Ann and her daughters are all vegetarian, and this place was good for them, too.

The intellectual banter was continuous.

Shaela and Delaina's mom.

More pineapple.

The thing was, each shaving of food was tiny, leaving the diner to always feel that he (or she) can take another.

So the diner eats and eats, all the time thinking that she has room for plenty more. And then, at the end, suddenly, the diner realizes she is stuffed beyond stuffed.

Or he realizes it. Because I am a he and at the end I was stuffed beyond stuffed.

I could hardly waddle back to the car.

The Rodizio Grill - a place where young people meet...

...and get to know each other.

The bride and groom, at the beginning of their life together.

The other men attached to my sister's daughters. That's Eric sitting by Amber. He is an adventurer, a mountain climber. He loves the Arctic and has scaled tall, icy, peaks that rise from Baffin Island in northeastern Canada.

The other fellow is Steven, Shaela's husband, who, like her, is making a career in the brutal film industry called Hollywood.

Shaela.

A hand upon the shoulder of a granddaughter.

You should know these two by now.

It is time to go. But before we do, Rex visits Tom and his mom.

My sister and her step-granddaughter.

I constructed this and part 4, the final wedding day post, before I went to bed last night, but I will give this a half-dozen or so hours to hang at the top of the list - to see how many extra hits are drawn in just because the word, "Palin," appears in the title.

It will be a bunch, I'm sure.

Update: After reading this, my niece Shaela posted a picture of me being blessed at the Indian temple at Shravanabelagola on her own blog.

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