In the book of
we find this:
There are lonely people who sacrifice family and friends
for the riches they think will buy them joy.
Yet they have no time for joy.
For whom do they labor?
In the work of Lisa Kristine, we find joy without riches.
This artist reveals through the intimacy of her photographs the joy of the
human spirit. The saturation of color opens our eyes into the eyes of
those who are living in ways very different from our own.
There is no effort to create a sense of unity by making these people
look more like us. Who are we? No matter who we are, we can meet
someone different—different in landscape, color, clothing, and
way of life. To the student in the madersa in Morocco, the monk in
silence in the great hall of Drepung might be a kaffir. To the upright
Chinese man, he might be a feudal counter-revolutionary.
Lisa invites each of us humans to look into the eyes of the one whom we
cannot understand—to look into those eyes in a setting that does
not diminish but rather accentuates our differences.
In those differences we find the root of our unity.
In that unity we find our joy.
If we would only see the attraction of our differences,
the beauty of the landscapes and religions that separate us, and
the joy in the face of a beggar, of an old woman, a novice,
a Papua-New Guinean initiate, and a farmer carrying her shovel,
then how full of loving kindness our world might be.
 Rami Shapiro translation,
Lisa Kristine, for her generosity of spirit, and Uri Nodelman, for making
Rami Shapiro’s translation of Qohelet available to me.