The ‘house of cards’ is an image of how we construct ourselves and our world, with everything dependent upon everything else.

Being a Buddhist is about what is in your heart. Likewise being an artist about learning to paint or to write. It’s about engaging with the world as an artist would.

The arts can be a parallel path to the dharma, with the potential to open up similar insights.

A beauty that shows us the truth of impermanence, imperfection and insubstantiality.

They’d lived so long despite harsh conditions, or was it because of them? Here’s what their secrets to a long life might be.

The wabi-sabi state of mind is one that ‘coaxes beauty out of ugliness’. For me, it’s become a metaphor for insight. 

We long for a soulful life full of real, earthy, handmade things. But how do you are getting the real deal?

Anastasia Pottinger’s pictures bring to mind the beauty of ancient olive trees. Why is it harder to see beauty in the human body?

Coming across the Dharma when I did felt like being in the right place at the right time. But I soon hit a problem.

Realising there was beauty in the laksanas opened up a whole new avenue of practice for me.

Placefulness, paying attention, on purpose, in the present moment, to the places we are in.

What if we were to see all of our activities, work and leisure, as taking place within a greater mandala of aesthetic appreciation?

Being creative requires skill, to become skilled you must be prolific and to be prolific means making a lot of mistakes.

When I was 7 years old, I became a different person. Or so the story goes…

Wanting anything to be other than what is hurts

Solving the world’s problems is not rocket science. And that’s the problem. If it were rocket science, we’d be able to achieve it.

A bardo is a pause, a gap, a liminal space. Often uncomfortable, always an opportunity.

What connects Duchamps’s ‘readymades’ with what the wabi-sabi tea masters did in Japan in the 1500s?

Have you ever gone out into the grey misty rain and discovered unexpected beauty in the landscape?

And how do we live romanticising neither poverty nor wealth, but instead learning to love and let go?