Have I told you the story of the Three Mongolians?

Back when I was apprenticing in Dharamsala, India and still volunteering there too, I lived at the Tibetan Library along with the Tibetan library staff and their families, several Tibetan thangka painters, some learned monks, and a few other wacky Westerners like myself. We had a great time.

A million stories could be told of Tibetan New Year parties that last two weeks, of the sweet sound of early morning trumpets and chanting, of power outages and water shortages and ingenius ways of stringing a laundry line between buildings (and the ensuing battles over said laundry line), of folks gathering at the tap to brush their teeth in the morning and do laundry in the afternoon, of the most amazing spiritual teachings every morning by the very dear Geshe Sonam Rinchen and his brilliant translator Ruth…

But those are stories for another time.

Today, I want to tell you about how I “met” the Three Mongolians and how they became my first “contemporary” silk thangka.

It was toward the beginning of my apprenticeship, I think, maybe 17 years ago… A fellow volunteer, an architect named Ernesto, had made a trip to Mongolia for architectural research. When he returned, he hosted a slide show to share the fascinating landscapes and buildings he’d encountered.

Among the many beautiful photos, one caught my attention: Three people (I thought they were three women at the time but later realized otherwise) sat on a bench in front of a cinder block wall. Their faces were animated. Their hands turned mala beads, as they probably uttered continuous mantras in the gaps between gossip.

[Some old Tibetans (and probably Mongolians too) have this uncanny ability to continue their mantra recitation while in conversation. It runs in the background like a hum of static on the radio, punctuated but never halted by the announcer’s words. Maybe it’s a little like today’s youth texting on their cell phones while they watch TV and converse. A kind of sacred multitasking!]

Anyway, the three characters in this photo were animated and expressive and beautiful to me. Their faces were lined. Their satin robes glistened against the rough cinder block, and their funny hats made me smile.

The glistening satin was, in fact, the same fabric I was using every day to stitch images of Buddhas. What are Buddhas but fully glistening (enlightened) people anyway? Wouldn’t it be amazing to make a thangka of these three people? To render the lines of their real faces with silk thread and  horsehair cords, like the perfect Buddha faces I was learning to create? The seed of an idea was planted.

I continued my apprenticeship. Ernesto returned to Germany with his family. The image took root in my mind.

A few years later, it was still there, still growing. And my skills were growing to match it.

I contacted Ernesto and asked whether he still had the photo of the three Mongolian women and whether I could make an artwork based on it. He did and agreed to make me a copy. I routed my next flight to California through Frankfurt and took the train out to Marburg. Ernesto and Christina gave me warm hospitality in their wonderfully trilingual home. The weather was cold. I remember that well, but I think it might have been warm for Germany.

So I got the photo (thank you, Ernesto!) and found that the three women of my memory were actually one man, one woman, and one character as yet gender-unidentified!

Still, they were as lively and colorful as I’d remembered them. I was sure they’d be beautiful in silk… though I’d never done or seen a lifelike portrait in Tibetan appliqué. The lines on their faces seemed so simple, so clear, so expressive that I was sure it would work.

But I had commissions to work on, thangkas to make. Another several years passed before I actually started the Three Mongolians piece.

I turned the photo into a drawing by projecting it on a wall and tracing.

I shopped for raw linen to suggest the cinder block wall.

I visited John Annesley in Healdsburg, CA for lessons in canvas stretching.

I stretched my Italian language abilities in ordering a custom stretcher frame in Milan.

And I made the piece.

Scared all along the way that the expressions wouldn’t really come across, that my heartwarming characters might come out looking ghoulish.

They didn’t!

Sometimes good projects take a long time to mature.

You can order a custom giclee print of the Mongolians here. You choose the size and the paper. I have one hanging in my own home (24″(w)x15.88″(h), on archival matte paper, framed), and I love having these characters for company!

This piece is one of my best-loved and most requested. The original has been included in two national juried shows and will be on display next week at the Sun Valley Spiritual Film Festival (along with four other thangkas). It’s for sale too!

If you are near Sun Valley or know anyone who is, please come visit my dear Mongolians and introduce yourself — to me, that is! I’d love to meet you and (why not?) so would they!

Sun Valley Spiritual Film Festival

September 16-19, 2010

Sun Valley Opera House

www.svspiritualfilmfestival.org

I’m speaking on Saturday, 9/18 between 11 am and 12:30 pm.