There’s a lamp in the Labrang dining room that’s causing me quite a lot of anguish. But it’s my own fault. I mean, if you were Rinpoche, would you want to be the object of an amateur snapper over supper, especially after you’d put in a hard day giving lungs and empowerments and whatnot? I wouldn’t. So I can quite see why the lamp has been placed in the least advantageous position for chancers like me to get a good shoot.
Sadly, with age I have less control over my actions than ever and can’t seem to stop myself from reaching for my camera, even at the least appropriate moment. With luck, I’ll grow out of it before long (I should really be thinking of other things), and anway, I have that poxy lamp to contend with.
To that end, here are few rather ordinary portraits, stolen over the past couple of nights, but offered in the hope that drowning you all in images of an Indian standard lamp (a throwback to the English style imported by Memsahibs in the early part of the 20th century) might satiate my rather desperate obsession.