This is a yurt:
It’s a tent-like structure fashioned out of found materials. Yurts respect their environment and tread lightly upon the earth.
Today yurts are most commonly found in Mongolia, where the term has come to mean, “home”; but I’ve seen yurts in the U.S. and Turkey, and everywhere else I’ve ever been if the concept is expanded to include what the Afghans call a jirga, and what Arabs, Pakistanis and Persians call a kheima.
In its original Turkic the word “yurt” also denoted the imprint it left once it’s moved. A yurt is temporary, but it leaves a mark. It is perhaps in this sense that it can also be thought of in Turkic as as a homeland, or even refer to kin. [A note on the word “kin” in English: that word comes from kind. As in — in kind — one thing like another. A member of our kin is someone in kind. From this, the concept of kindness. A yurt is where we find our kin.]
A yurt leaves a mark where it’s been, but a harmless one.
A yurt is always exploring something new.
This is the concept behind the Contemplative Yurt. It’s a space to take up an issue, make of it a home, gather kin around, and leave a mark.
The Contemplative Yurt houses a range political, cultural and scholarly issues and features guest bloggers.