The river still carries it
The Irrawaddy at first light, and what the water has moved through.
The archive
What has been carried.
Films and written pieces, gathered by strand. Each one ends where it began, changed.
Thanaka, and the face that wears it
Bark, stone, water, and a practice older than any border drawn here.
Mohinga before dawn
A pot, a ladle, and a street not yet awake.