The Fluid folio wanders through liquid nature of memory, the continuous shifting of human circumstances and identity, and the wild surges and still waters of language. The pieces of original writing and translation in this folio are awash in rain, river, sea, and tears.

Sea Mothers
By Janet Hong

My child, we all become white-haired soon enough.

Nyima Tsering’s Tears
By Tsering Woeser

This was the first time he had seen so many exiled Tibetans of his own flesh and blood in a foreign land. Though they were only a few feet away, it was as if they were separated by ranges of mountains.

i have seen the line at the bottom of sky crack glimmers of clear light

Think about it: if rain accumulating above someone / resumes descent, where does it fall?

From its very beginning this story is fated to be exposed by the light.

‘These were / all the gold coins that he laid by in a life of poverty, / saved up in the vault of his mind’

We would like to collect information during your visit to help us better understand site use. This data is anonymized, and will not be used for marketing purposes. Read More on our Privacy Policy page. You can withdraw permission at any time or update your privacy settings here. Please choose below to continue.