The "phase" on the circumambulation path

Sang Offering at the Potala Palace

The Girl and Her Freed Sheep

Prayer Flags on the Tibetan Slopes of Qinghai

My work "On the Kora Path: Faith, Images, and the Journey of Practice" captures devotees from the four Tibetan regions of Amdo, Kham, Ü-Tsang, and Ngari. Though the customs of Tibetan compatriots in these areas vary, their shared reverence for nature and devotion to the divine—like an invisible thread—bind their spirits together within Tibetan culture.

Forms on the Kora Path: Lhasa (Partial)

I chose representative subjects to photograph: full-body shots of Khampa men to capture their bold spirit, and close-up details of Ngari compatriots to glimpse the light in their eyes. I always sought to harness the environment—at the Xinzha Mani Stone City in Yushu, Qinghai, I framed shots against spinning prayer wheels; in Amdo, I photographed devotees gazing through windows at distant mountains, letting the peaks become silent captions; behind the Potala's kora path, a mantra-carved stone wall accompanied my portraits; at Ngari's Tashilhunpo Monastery, a locked crimson door became my lens' steadfast companion.

Forms on the Kora Path: Shigatse, Ngari (Detail)

Those unsteady elders and people with mobility difficulties, though struggling to move themselves, willingly posed for my camera. They didn't speak much - just gestured or smiled at the lens. That's when I understood photography isn't just about capturing 'images', but about the serendipitous encounters with these faithful souls.

"Forms on the Kora Path: Tongren, Amdo (Detail)"

To me, these photographs are like mirrors. Pressing the shutter freezes the present 'form,' while later creating albums or exhibitions breaks open this layer of 'form'—just like spiritual practice, using illusory images to cultivate true intention. But one question lingers: how to make beautiful images without disturbing their devotion? Perhaps this is something I'll keep pondering.

Forms on the Kora Path: Yushu, Kham (Detail)

Connection with Tibetan Land

Fifteen years ago when I first visited Tibet, I carried many worries in my heart - fear of altitude sickness, anxiety about not being able to communicate with locals, even secretly researching 'what to pay attention to'. It wasn't until I entered a Tibetan home that these concerns suddenly vanished: the hostess serving butter tea, the way her fingers brushed the rim of the bowl, and the children's curious eyes fixed on my camera.

Tibetan Women of Donggar-Piyang, Purang County, Ngari

That day they didn't let me take many photos, but instead pulled me down to sit with them - watching them spin wool and turn prayer wheels. The old man pressed a prayer wheel into my hands, saying 'Follow its turn, and your heart will grow calm.' As I touched that cool copper cylinder, I suddenly realized Tibet wasn't just a dot on the map, but a place that could warm your soul. From then on, I kept wanting to capture these moments with my camera, until without noticing, it became the most important thing in my photography.

Yushu, Qinghai: 'Chendo Zhenqin Town Horse Racing Festival'
A Tibetan family riding motorcycles to the event

In my younger days, I took photos for documentation in the office, which gave me some basic skills. I seriously pursued photography starting in 2005, later joining the Jiangsu Photographers Association and then the China Photographers Association. But compared to these, the pull of Tibet is much stronger—the mountains, the people, and the faith woven into daily life always make me want to return again and again.

Kora
Labrang Monastery, Gansu

Geographical Folds on the Kora Path

As I traveled more, I gradually noticed differences.

In Yushu, the Khampa people are truly bold. Knowing I wanted to take photos, they'd straighten their Tibetan robes themselves, some even tightening the knives at their waists, saying, "This way, the photo looks spirited." After shooting, they'd insist on adding me on WeChat—even now, I still see them posting about ripe barley or growing children, like old friends.

Yushu Horse Festival, Qinghai

The people of Tongren in Amdo are genuinely warm-hearted. There's no distance in the way they look at me - even passersby would nod with a smile. Their devotion to Buddha is etched in their bones, taking each step of the kora with absolute sincerity, never cutting corners.

"Yushu, Qinghai: 'Chendo Zhenqin Town Horse Racing Festival'"  
"A Tibetan family riding to the event on horseback"

The herders in Shigatse are the most genuine. Most couldn't understand Mandarin, so they'd fetch young villagers who spoke Putonghua to translate. After taking photos, whether we knew each other or not, they'd stuff pieces of wind-dried meat into my bag - too tough to chew, but warming to the heart.

Damxung Herders Grazing Livestock Along the Qinghai-Tibet Railway

Only in Lhasa did I find photography a bit challenging. Perhaps the city's rapid development has made people warier of strangers. Sometimes when I raised my camera, they'd simply wave me off and walk away. Eventually I understood—here, faith is wrapped in the hustle of daily life, and they just prefer not to be disturbed. There's nothing wrong with that.

Shoton Festival, Lhasa - Tibetan Opera Performers

Yet the most unforgettable moment came during the winter of 2024 on Amdo's kora path. That day, a fierce snowstorm raged—pilgrims tightened their Tibetan robes, yet a group of young women persisted in performing full-body prostrations. Snow pellets stung their faces, their robes caked with mud and ice, foreheads reddened from touching the ground, yet none complained of exhaustion. One girl looked up, noticed me, and waved with a smile. In that instant, I suddenly understood: faith isn't some heavy burden, but rather that mysterious strength enabling people to smile through blizzards.

A Single Stem of Meconopsis at Mount Anyemaqen

No matter where I went, there was always one thing they shared in common: a solemn devotion to faith. Most wore expressions of quiet determination, as if carrying an inner compass. Especially the nomads—their eyes shone like an unobscured moon, utterly clear.

Mount Kailash Pilgrimage, Ngari, Tibet

Practice Beyond the Lens

After all these years photographing Tibet, I've come to realize these images aren't just for others to see—they're my own spiritual practice. Tibetan tradition says "reverence prevents arrogance, practice cultivates wisdom." This, I truly believe.

Lighting Lamps at Jokhang Temple, Lhasa, Tibet

Those who walk the kora, those who perform prostrations—they may not know grand philosophies, but carry an unshakable certainty in their hearts. This certainty, transmitted through my lens, has become the light on my photographic journey. I hope my work lets more people see this steadfastness—not to make everyone believe in something, but to show that there truly are people in this world living their days as spiritual practice through simplicity and devotion.

Monks Carrying Butter Tea at Tashilhunpo Monastery, Shigatse

In the days to come, I want to visit Tibet many more times. With my camera, walking the kora path as I did in the beginning, carefully recording what I see and feel. If I can preserve just a few more traces of Tibetan culture, that will be enough.

Ge Hengyang  
Photographer  
Born in Yangzhong City, Jiangsu Province, member of China Photographers Association. Primarily photographs scenes along the Yangtze River basin and cultural landscapes of the Tibetan Plateau. Group exhibitions participated in: "Representative Works Exhibition Project" - *Khampa Appearances* at Wuhan Image Art Center, Hubei; "AI New Creativity" - *Beautiful Encounters* at the 15th China Photography Art Festival in Sanmenxia City, Henan; 2023 *Risking Death to Eat Pufferfish* - 6th China Fenghuang Folk Photography Biennale.