

26july25


26july25




23july2025

This is an image of Bhairab (or Bhairava) — a fierce manifestation of Shiva in Hindu tradition and a protective deity in both Hinduism and Buddhism, especially in the Newar culture of the Kathmandu Valley.
This particular mask-style artwork is likely a representation of Mahākāla Bhairab, a form associated with time and destruction — but not evil — more like destruction of ignorance and protection of the sacred. The moon and sun symbols, along with the third eye, further hint at his omnipresence and cosmic role.
23july2025

23july25

This mural likely represents figures from Tantric or cremation-ground iconography, often used in Newar ritual art, with deep links to death, rebirth, and transformation:
1. The Skeleton (possibly a Chitipati or a Yamantaka guardian)
Represents death, impermanence, and the cycle of life. In Tibetan Buddhism and Newar Buddhism, skeleton figures called Chitipati are guardians of the cremation grounds and serve as reminders of mortality. Often shown joyfully dancing, they symbolize the celebration of impermanence and the transience of material life.

2. The Female Figure (possibly Kali or a Tantric goddess like Chamunda)
The wild hair, extended tongue, and red attire are classic features of Kali, the goddess of time, destruction, and power. In Nepal, she is often represented in cremation grounds, standing among the dead, symbolizing liberation through death. The green shoots she holds are a reference to life and regeneration, commonly used during Dashain and other harvest festivals, symbolizing life emerging from sacrifice.
3. The Dogs or Jackals
These are sacred animals often associated with Kali and Shiva, known to dwell in cremation grounds. They symbolize guardianship of thresholds, death, and spiritual transition.
In Newar and Tantric art, such imagery is not morbid—it’s deeply spiritual. It reflects the cycle of life and death, the thin line between divine and terrifying, and the idea that liberation comes not through denial of death, but through confronting it directly.
Why you’ll see this in Patan:
Patan has a strong Tantric heritage that blends Hinduism and Vajrayana Buddhism. Murals like this are often painted on walls near temples, rest houses, or cremation sites, reminding viewers of the impermanence of life and the power of the divine feminine.
Patan, Kathmandu 23july25



Most people walk right past it.
They’re looking at their phones, dodging traffic, thinking about groceries… And there it is — on a wall, behind a stack of scooters or a taxi cab — a mural that’s saying something real. Something raw.
But they don’t see it.
Street art gets dismissed as decoration. Background noise. A splash of color in a gray day. But if you slow down — just for a second — it’s often telling you more than the billboards ever will.
Patan, Kathmandu 23july2025






22july25




18july25

“You don’t always know who painted it, but you know they were here. And they wanted to be seen. Or remembered. Or maybe just heard.”

July 2025

Deluxe Printed Edition! More Pages, More pictures, More Stories than the E-Book!
From Bhutan’s silent temple walls to Kathmandu’s vibrant, mural-covered streets—this book is a journey into one of Asia’s most dynamic urban art scenes.
For over two decades, I have wandered cities around the world, camera in hand, listening to the stories painted on their walls. After a year in Bhutan, where murals are sacred and hidden from lenses, I moved to Kathmandu for the summer of 2025—a city alive with color, protest, and imagination.
Kathmandu (Street Art) Calling: From Prayer Flags to Spray Cans is both visual archive and personal travelogue. Through authentic photography and immersive storytelling, my new book explores:
Featuring dozens of original photographs taken in public spaces—with deep respect for both named and anonymous artists—this book captures a fleeting moment in Kathmandu’s visual history.
More than a guide or photo collection, Kathmandu (Street Art) Calling is a love letter to urban art and its ability to transcend borders, amplify unheard voices, and remind us that the walls of every city are already speaking.

Summer 2025