In January 1998, as Lama Yöntän and I were getting ready to leave for Nepal, some people from Missoula, Montana, visited us. They brought with them a prayer flag of Red Tara stretched over an embroidery hoop. The prayer flag had been beautifully embroidered, and the work was about three-quarters completed. Along with the flag the visitors brought a picture of Jordan Peck, the woman who had been working on the stitchery for the past two years and who had died of cancer a week earlier. Soon after her death, her friends decided to give the needlework to Padma Ling in Spokane.
When I looked closely at this lovely piece of needlework, I found that it had a jewel-like appearance with vibrant, well-chosen colors. It was a piece of art. Once I began to think about how nice it would be to finish it, there was no turning back. After shopping for some matching thread and a few new colors, I got busy embroidering. There was not much time, because we would soon leave for Nepal, where we knew a good thangka tailor—the perfect person to frame the embroidered thangka in silk brocade.
I stitched every day for two weeks before our departure, and while I worked, I often thought of Jordan and the merit she had created, spending the last years of her life on such a project. I also wondered how this prayer flag of Red Tara had made its way to Missoula, Montana. It was an exact copy of the Red Tara drawn for the first edition of the English Red Tara practice by Pasang, a Tibetan thangka painter who visited Cottage Grove while Rinpoche was living there. None of her friends knew where Jordan had gotten the flag, and I figured this was a mystery that would never be solved.
The day before we left for Nepal, I finished the embroidery. Once we arrived, Lama Yöntän and I went to see our friend the tailor. He liked the thangka very much and helped us select beautiful brocade cloth for framing it. He agreed to do the job even though he was swamped with other work due to the approach of Losar, the Tibetan New Year, when many people in Boudha have their thangkas framed. Shortly before the end of our stay, we received word that the thangka was finished. I walked up Boudha Road, through the throngs of buyers, vendors, hawkers, and beggars, until I reached the tailor’s house with its rooftop garden. The thangka looked perfect. Everyone there, including the apprentices, caught some of my happiness, and smiled and laughed.
On the way home, I thought about how ideal an embroidered thangka would be to travel with. Painted thangkas are fragile, and during travel they can crease, which causes the paint to peel off. I decided to take the thangka with me wherever I went to give teachings or the Red Tara empowerment. When I traveled recently to British Columbia, the Yukon, and Alaska, Jordan’s thangka went with me. In Anchorage, I was moved to speak about the background of this beautiful image of Tara. Afterward, a woman named Carol Lambert introduced herself to me. She told me that she had sent Jordan Peck the prayer flag that had eventually become this thangka. “Jordan was my friend,” she said, “and when I heard about her illness, I thought the prayer flag might benefit her.”
Lama Inge Sandvoss
In January 1998, as Lama Yöntän and I were getting ready to leave for Nepal, some people from Missoula, Montana, visited us. They brought with them a prayer flag of Red Tara stretched over an embroidery hoop. The prayer flag had been beautifully embroidered, and the work was about three-quarters completed. Along with the flag the visitors brought a picture of Jordan Peck, the woman who had been working on the stitchery for the past two years and who had died of cancer a week earlier. Soon after her death, her friends decided to give the needlework to Padma Ling in Spokane.
When I looked closely at this lovely piece of needlework, I found that it had a jewel-like appearance with vibrant, well-chosen colors. It was a piece of art. Once I began to think about how nice it would be to finish it, there was no turning back. After shopping for some matching thread and a few new colors, I got busy embroidering. There was not much time, because we would soon leave for Nepal, where we knew a good thangka tailor—the perfect person to frame the embroidered thangka in silk brocade.
I stitched every day for two weeks before our departure, and while I worked, I often thought of Jordan and the merit she had created, spending the last years of her life on such a project. I also wondered how this prayer flag of Red Tara had made its way to Missoula, Montana. It was an exact copy of the Red Tara drawn for the first edition of the English Red Tara practice by Pasang, a Tibetan thangka painter who visited Cottage Grove while Rinpoche was living there. None of her friends knew where Jordan had gotten the flag, and I figured this was a mystery that would never be solved.
The day before we left for Nepal, I finished the embroidery. Once we arrived, Lama Yöntän and I went to see our friend the tailor. He liked the thangka very much and helped us select beautiful brocade cloth for framing it. He agreed to do the job even though he was swamped with other work due to the approach of Losar, the Tibetan New Year, when many people in Boudha have their thangkas framed. Shortly before the end of our stay, we received word that the thangka was finished. I walked up Boudha Road, through the throngs of buyers, vendors, hawkers, and beggars, until I reached the tailor’s house with its rooftop garden. The thangka looked perfect. Everyone there, including the apprentices, caught some of my happiness, and smiled and laughed.
On the way home, I thought about how ideal an embroidered thangka would be to travel with. Painted thangkas are fragile, and during travel they can crease, which causes the paint to peel off. I decided to take the thangka with me wherever I went to give teachings or the Red Tara empowerment. When I traveled recently to British Columbia, the Yukon, and Alaska, Jordan’s thangka went with me. In Anchorage, I was moved to speak about the background of this beautiful image of Tara. Afterward, a woman named Carol Lambert introduced herself to me. She told me that she had sent Jordan Peck the prayer flag that had eventually become this thangka. “Jordan was my friend,” she said, “and when I heard about her illness, I thought the prayer flag might benefit her.”
Lama Inge Sandvoss
In January 1998, as Lama Yöntän and I were getting ready to leave for Nepal, some people from Missoula, Montana, visited us. They brought with them a prayer flag of Red Tara stretched over an embroidery hoop. The prayer flag had been beautifully embroidered, and the work was about three-quarters completed. Along with the flag the visitors brought a picture of Jordan Peck, the woman who had been working on the stitchery for the past two years and who had died of cancer a week earlier. Soon after her death, her friends decided to give the needlework to Padma Ling in Spokane.
When I looked closely at this lovely piece of needlework, I found that it had a jewel-like appearance with vibrant, well-chosen colors. It was a piece of art. Once I began to think about how nice it would be to finish it, there was no turning back. After shopping for some matching thread and a few new colors, I got busy embroidering. There was not much time, because we would soon leave for Nepal, where we knew a good thangka tailor—the perfect person to frame the embroidered thangka in silk brocade.
I stitched every day for two weeks before our departure, and while I worked, I often thought of Jordan and the merit she had created, spending the last years of her life on such a project. I also wondered how this prayer flag of Red Tara had made its way to Missoula, Montana. It was an exact copy of the Red Tara drawn for the first edition of the English Red Tara practice by Pasang, a Tibetan thangka painter who visited Cottage Grove while Rinpoche was living there. None of her friends knew where Jordan had gotten the flag, and I figured this was a mystery that would never be solved.
The day before we left for Nepal, I finished the embroidery. Once we arrived, Lama Yöntän and I went to see our friend the tailor. He liked the thangka very much and helped us select beautiful brocade cloth for framing it. He agreed to do the job even though he was swamped with other work due to the approach of Losar, the Tibetan New Year, when many people in Boudha have their thangkas framed. Shortly before the end of our stay, we received word that the thangka was finished. I walked up Boudha Road, through the throngs of buyers, vendors, hawkers, and beggars, until I reached the tailor’s house with its rooftop garden. The thangka looked perfect. Everyone there, including the apprentices, caught some of my happiness, and smiled and laughed.
On the way home, I thought about how ideal an embroidered thangka would be to travel with. Painted thangkas are fragile, and during travel they can crease, which causes the paint to peel off. I decided to take the thangka with me wherever I went to give teachings or the Red Tara empowerment. When I traveled recently to British Columbia, the Yukon, and Alaska, Jordan’s thangka went with me. In Anchorage, I was moved to speak about the background of this beautiful image of Tara. Afterward, a woman named Carol Lambert introduced herself to me. She told me that she had sent Jordan Peck the prayer flag that had eventually become this thangka. “Jordan was my friend,” she said, “and when I heard about her illness, I thought the prayer flag might benefit her.”
Lama Inge Sandvoss
In January 1998, as Lama Yöntän and I were getting ready to leave for Nepal, some people from Missoula, Montana, visited us. They brought with them a prayer flag of Red Tara stretched over an embroidery hoop. The prayer flag had been beautifully embroidered, and the work was about three-quarters completed. Along with the flag the visitors brought a picture of Jordan Peck, the woman who had been working on the stitchery for the past two years and who had died of cancer a week earlier. Soon after her death, her friends decided to give the needlework to Padma Ling in Spokane.
When I looked closely at this lovely piece of needlework, I found that it had a jewel-like appearance with vibrant, well-chosen colors. It was a piece of art. Once I began to think about how nice it would be to finish it, there was no turning back. After shopping for some matching thread and a few new colors, I got busy embroidering. There was not much time, because we would soon leave for Nepal, where we knew a good thangka tailor—the perfect person to frame the embroidered thangka in silk brocade.
I stitched every day for two weeks before our departure, and while I worked, I often thought of Jordan and the merit she had created, spending the last years of her life on such a project. I also wondered how this prayer flag of Red Tara had made its way to Missoula, Montana. It was an exact copy of the Red Tara drawn for the first edition of the English Red Tara practice by Pasang, a Tibetan thangka painter who visited Cottage Grove while Rinpoche was living there. None of her friends knew where Jordan had gotten the flag, and I figured this was a mystery that would never be solved.
The day before we left for Nepal, I finished the embroidery. Once we arrived, Lama Yöntän and I went to see our friend the tailor. He liked the thangka very much and helped us select beautiful brocade cloth for framing it. He agreed to do the job even though he was swamped with other work due to the approach of Losar, the Tibetan New Year, when many people in Boudha have their thangkas framed. Shortly before the end of our stay, we received word that the thangka was finished. I walked up Boudha Road, through the throngs of buyers, vendors, hawkers, and beggars, until I reached the tailor’s house with its rooftop garden. The thangka looked perfect. Everyone there, including the apprentices, caught some of my happiness, and smiled and laughed.
On the way home, I thought about how ideal an embroidered thangka would be to travel with. Painted thangkas are fragile, and during travel they can crease, which causes the paint to peel off. I decided to take the thangka with me wherever I went to give teachings or the Red Tara empowerment. When I traveled recently to British Columbia, the Yukon, and Alaska, Jordan’s thangka went with me. In Anchorage, I was moved to speak about the background of this beautiful image of Tara. Afterward, a woman named Carol Lambert introduced herself to me. She told me that she had sent Jordan Peck the prayer flag that had eventually become this thangka. “Jordan was my friend,” she said, “and when I heard about her illness, I thought the prayer flag might benefit her.”
Lama Inge Sandvoss
In January 1998, as Lama Yöntän and I were getting ready to leave for Nepal, some people from Missoula, Montana, visited us. They brought with them a prayer flag of Red Tara stretched over an embroidery hoop. The prayer flag had been beautifully embroidered, and the work was about three-quarters completed. Along with the flag the visitors brought a picture of Jordan Peck, the woman who had been working on the stitchery for the past two years and who had died of cancer a week earlier. Soon after her death, her friends decided to give the needlework to Padma Ling in Spokane.
When I looked closely at this lovely piece of needlework, I found that it had a jewel-like appearance with vibrant, well-chosen colors. It was a piece of art. Once I began to think about how nice it would be to finish it, there was no turning back. After shopping for some matching thread and a few new colors, I got busy embroidering. There was not much time, because we would soon leave for Nepal, where we knew a good thangka tailor—the perfect person to frame the embroidered thangka in silk brocade.
I stitched every day for two weeks before our departure, and while I worked, I often thought of Jordan and the merit she had created, spending the last years of her life on such a project. I also wondered how this prayer flag of Red Tara had made its way to Missoula, Montana. It was an exact copy of the Red Tara drawn for the first edition of the English Red Tara practice by Pasang, a Tibetan thangka painter who visited Cottage Grove while Rinpoche was living there. None of her friends knew where Jordan had gotten the flag, and I figured this was a mystery that would never be solved.
The day before we left for Nepal, I finished the embroidery. Once we arrived, Lama Yöntän and I went to see our friend the tailor. He liked the thangka very much and helped us select beautiful brocade cloth for framing it. He agreed to do the job even though he was swamped with other work due to the approach of Losar, the Tibetan New Year, when many people in Boudha have their thangkas framed. Shortly before the end of our stay, we received word that the thangka was finished. I walked up Boudha Road, through the throngs of buyers, vendors, hawkers, and beggars, until I reached the tailor’s house with its rooftop garden. The thangka looked perfect. Everyone there, including the apprentices, caught some of my happiness, and smiled and laughed.
On the way home, I thought about how ideal an embroidered thangka would be to travel with. Painted thangkas are fragile, and during travel they can crease, which causes the paint to peel off. I decided to take the thangka with me wherever I went to give teachings or the Red Tara empowerment. When I traveled recently to British Columbia, the Yukon, and Alaska, Jordan’s thangka went with me. In Anchorage, I was moved to speak about the background of this beautiful image of Tara. Afterward, a woman named Carol Lambert introduced herself to me. She told me that she had sent Jordan Peck the prayer flag that had eventually become this thangka. “Jordan was my friend,” she said, “and when I heard about her illness, I thought the prayer flag might benefit her.”
Lama Inge Sandvoss
