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Well, this is one of the best photos I've seen in a long time! This little girl is so cute and sweet!

I love the bright sunlight colors and the beautiful painted design on the door.

Just presh!

Isn't she gorgeous! A great snap, Agnes. (I'd like a front door to my house like that.)

This is one of the most beautiful pictures I have ever seen! Make the most of your work trip and your travels (I know you do!) X

It sure is.

I am loving these photographs. You are brilliant with a camera Agnes.

what a sweet thing! gorgeous bright colors!

What a cutie! :)
The detail in the wood is incredible too!

This is stunning! Fantastic photo Agnes!

Just adorable! You have a great eye (heart and soul).

She's precious! I love the light and color in this, too.

What a wonderful photo. I love the vibrant colours!

........WAAY CUTE !!!!!!

Maybe she's finishing her lollipop before she goes out in the cold. Or maybe she's holding the door for her little brother to join her in entering the house. But what she's doing in the doorway isn't important.

What IS important is her calm. Her fearlessness. Her determination.

There's a whole wide world out there. But she knows she's the center of the universe.

That's a beautiful thing in one so young.

How perfect is that?!

Just too cute and adorable, Agnes! :-)

she looks warm on cold morning. Nice door too.

What a little cutie!

Thank you all for your comments. That door is the entrance to the tiny yurt she lives in.

You certainly captured a beautiful site here. Thanks for sharing.

Hey, Agnes, I guess your comment about the dwelling's being a "yurt" means I made a bad mistake when I called it a "house."

Just for the record, I looked up the definition of "yurt" BEFORE I commented above. "Wikipedia" contains this definition:

"A yurt is a portable, bent dwelling structure traditionally used by nomads in the steppes of Central Asia." Later the "Wikipedia" article says that, "A yurt is designed to be dismantled and the parts carried compactly on camels or yaks to be rebuilt on another site. Complete construction takes around 2 hours."

I looked again at your picture of the heavy and ornate door. Then I said to myself, "Self, there's no way that door and frame are meant to be carried around on on a camel or yak. That means the structure can't be a yurt. So, what do I call it?"

After reflecting on this, Self replied: "Just call it a house."

I sure won't listen to Self in the future. That guy gets everything wrong.

*****

In another comment elsewhere, you wrote that you're a "foreigner everywhere." I don't think so, Agnes.

I think you're a citizen of the world.

@Rider: Rider, hi. The first yurt I've ever been to (I was 10) was huge. An older lady lived in it, in the middle of nowhere in the steppes, with her horses. The horses lived inside and she gave us horse milk to drink. Her yurt didn't have a door, it had a curtain-like entrance, fur & leather. There was nothing around but infinite space & you could see mirages in the distance. One of the most beautiful sights I've ever seen. This one in the photo is a small yurt, maybe the size of my bedroom but it's got a proper door. Not sure how portable it is or isn't.

Also not sure anymore what I meant by foreigner everywhere. It's how I feel, culturally anyway. At home everywhere but not really. It's not a bad thing, I don't think.

Your comments are always wonderful, Agnes. In this one (posted March 23rd) I vicariously experience the smell of horses in the yurt and the taste of horse milk. I experience the freedom and beauty of the steppe. I too am a world traveler, but only for a moment and only in my mind.

For that single moment when I become a faux world traveler, I understand why you always feel like a foreigner and why it's not a bad thing.

It doesn't mean you always feel out of place.

It means you want to be free.

@Rider: Thanks for your kind comment Rider. Asian father + European mother + American passport, they mess with more than just your accent & the continued exposure to more than a singular culture makes you an insider and outsider at the same time. Some sights really take your breath away though, you neither belong nor 'non-belong'. That steppe, or the Sahara or places like that tend to put you in touch with the very core of existence in ways that cities do not. I love cities but they mold you and wrap you in a synthetic veneer, cultures do the same and that's all fine by me. But in moments like the one on the steppe you're more aware of your 'unmolded' self and relation to the rest of life. It probably doesn't make much sense, I experienced it a few times but don't usually attempt to describe it.

Do you really think that an Asian father, a European mother, and an American passport make you different? Do you really think that they're why you're an outsider and a foreigner everywhere? They aren't. It's not a father, a mother, and a passport that make you different.

It's your intelligence, Agnes. It's shown in your words. It's shown in your thoughts. It's shown in the intensity that flashes from your eyes when you look at the camera.

It's a really good thing. Your intelligence, I mean.

Nor do a father, a mother, and a passport explain the peace you feel in the Russian steppe or in the Sahara desert. Peace is a feeling you get when there are no cities or cultures or people closing in on you. When there is no you and them. When there is no inside and outside. When there's just this oneness with the rest of the universe.

It's what I call freedom.

*****

When writing this, I became convinced of two things, Agnes. One is that you belong here or there or wherever you want to be. Two is that you are loved everywhere.

@Rider: I don't know what to say to that. I like your definition of freedom a lot.

@Rider: p/s: Thank you for the compliment.

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