We die containing a richness of lovers and tribes, tastes we have swallowed, bodies we have plunged into and swum up as if rivers of wisdom, characters we have climbed into as if trees, fears we have hidden in as if caves… We are the real countries, not the boundaries drawn on maps with the names of powerful men… I know you will come and carry me out into the palace of winds. That’s all I’ve wanted: To walk in such a place with you, with friends, on an earth without maps. ~ Michael Ondaatje (Photo by Enrique Badulescu)