Sara Gregor • April 14, 2025

Welcoming the Monday Angel: A New Year, A New Offering

Happy Cambodian New Year! Chaul Chnam Thmey!

Today, the Monday Angel has arrived.


According to Buddhist cosmology, each day of the week is watched over by a celestial being. This year, it is the angel of Monday who descends—graceful, golden, protective. She carries blessings of beauty, renewal, and peace.


I painted her in honor of the New Year. She represents not just myth, but a mindset. An invitation to live with elegance, strength, and devotion. And I feel her presence in my body this week—in the art I’ve created, the dances I’ve learned, and the community I’ve kept close.


Chaul Chnam Thmey is not just the turning of a calendar. It’s the turning of the soul. And this year, I step forward—with gold in my spirit, flowers in my hair, and gratitude in my heart.


In this special blog post, I’ll be reflecting on the experience of bringing together the My Soul of Gold exhibition, the creative process behind painting the Monday Angel, my recent volunteer work at Watt Munisotaram, and the culminating Sampeah Kru ceremony that closed out a powerful weekend.


Today is Monday, April 14th—Khmer New Year—and I offer my heartfelt gratitude to my community, my ancestors, and my culture.

Bringing "My Soul of Gold" to Life

Hao Taing, Lyda Morgan, Gabriella Sour, Sara Gregor

Curating My Soul of Gold has been one of the most meaningful creative experiences of my life. What began as a vision—a longing to honor Cambodian heritage through contemporary storytelling—slowly transformed into a full-bodied offering, woven with movement, memory, and spiritual care.


When I was asked to curate this project, I had just two weeks to bring it all together. The invitation came from two women I deeply admire: Lyda Morgan and Chinda Gregor—my auntie and my mother. They believed in me, and in many ways, they passed this torch so that I could begin walking the path I’ve always dreamed of: curating and leading an artistic exhibition rooted in Cambodian culture.


Taking on this role was more than a logistical challenge—it was an emotional and spiritual commitment. As a Cambodian-American, I’ve spent much of my life navigating the distance between cultural pride and cultural disconnection. This project became a way to bridge that gap—not only for myself, but for others who have longed to feel close to the beauty and depth of our heritage.


I reached out first to Hao Taing, who I had only known through CAPMN, where he worked with my mom and Lyda. I had followed his Apsara Grannies project online and was deeply moved by his vision. His photographs don’t just document—they honor. They restore dignity to Cambodian elders, especially women, who are so often overlooked. I knew he was the perfect artist to highlight in this exhibition.


Next, I turned to my Neak Kru, Gabriella Sour of Wattanak Dance Troupe. Though Gabby is a few years younger than me, I’ve seen her perform at countless community events. Her dedication, precision, and grace make her a powerful steward of our classical dance tradition. I wanted her not just as a performer, but as a featured artist—because she is part of the next generation of cultural keepers. Later in this blog, I’ll share how her mentorship helped guide me through my first-ever Sampeah Kru ceremony.

So why the title: My Soul of Gold?

That came to me through a poem. I discovered it in a translated version by Trent Walker—a 17th-century Khmer poem written by King Preah Reaj Somphear while in exile. The poem is titled ព្រលឹងមាសអើយ (Prolung Measa Aey), or Golden Soul. It uses a royal register of Khmer speech, a level of formality rarely spoken today but still alive in our bodies, our rituals, our silences. Though the language may seem distant, it holds deep significance. This is love as reverence. Love as offering. Love as what we cannot say, but still carry.


I first encountered the translation in a book gifted to me by my professor Erik Davis—Out of the Shadows of Angkor, a powerful anthology of Cambodian literature. I was drawn to the phrase “My Soul of Gold” because I had always seen gold in our performances, our ceremonies, our art. It shimmered everywhere in our cultural expressions, and I wanted to understand why.

At first, I was centering the translation of the poem in this exhibit. But then Hao, who is fluent in Khmer, reminded me: this wasn’t just a poetic metaphor—it was a cultural artifact. The original poem, ព្រលឹងមាសអើយ, deserved to be honored in its own right. That shift changed everything for me. I began to see the exhibit as a revival—a way to elevate what has long been sacred, even if no longer widely understood.


In a world that moves fast and forgets even faster, My Soul of Gold is a call to remember. Cambodian culture is not a relic. It lives in our bodies, our movement, our stories, our offerings. Even as kingdoms fade and languages shift, what remains is gold: the spiritual glow of memory, pride, and artistic resilience. This exhibition is part of a revival. And it couldn’t have come at a more important time.


Read more about My Soul of Gold: A Contemporary Offering of Khmer Heritage here

Buy original artworks here

Read artist bios here

leave a review here

Painting the Monday Angel

The idea to paint Koreak Tevy, the angel of Monday, began with a story I first learned last year—the myth of the Seven Daughters of Kabil Moha Prum, celestial sisters who each descend to earth during the Khmer New Year. Each daughter is associated with a weekday, and this year, the guardian spirit arriving is the Monday Angel.

When I agreed to volunteer again for the temple’s New Year preparations, I knew I wanted to offer something meaningful. Getting to know the women in our community has become a grounding force in my life. To my surprise and comfort, I found that many of them—like me—do not speak fluent Khmer. It reminded me that language is not the only doorway to belonging. We find each other through embodiment, ritual, and creativity.

I chose Koreak Tevy not only because she is the angel for this year, but because she wears gold—a perfect parallel to the launch of My Soul of Gold. Her presence tied the exhibition, the ceremony, and the myth together in one powerful image. Painting her felt like a natural extension of the curatorial work I was already doing.

The creative process unfolded over the course of a week. It reminded me how much I’ve missed painting. It was meditative, joyful, and alive. I took breaks, asked for feedback, layered on gold foil, and allowed the image to slowly reveal itself. It wasn’t just about creating something beautiful—it was about reconnecting with my own cultural imagination.

There’s something stirring right now that I think of as a Khmer Renaissance—a reawakening of artistic and cultural expression among Cambodian creatives. That energy is fueling me. I think about artists like Leonardo da Vinci, who worked tirelessly during the Italian Renaissance to leave behind works of vision, precision, and beauty. I feel that same urgency—not for perfection, but for presence. To create images that honor what has been passed down, and to offer something back.

Painting Koreak Tevy helped me feel closer to my culture. It brought me joy, healing, and inspiration. And I don’t want to stop here. I hope to continue painting all Seven Angels, and to bring more of our mythology to life—through brushstrokes, gold leaf, and love.

The Sampeah Kru Ceremony

On Sunday, April 13th, I participated in my first ever Sampeah Kru ceremony—a traditional ritual of honoring our teachers, ancestors, and the sacred lineage of Cambodian dance. It was a long ceremony, but like many Khmer rituals, that length is part of the offering. Time itself becomes a devotion.


A priest traveled all the way from Lowell, Massachusetts to lead the ceremony, bringing blessings not only for our teachers but for all of us students. It was intimate, communal, and filled with reverence. As dancers, we offered what we’ve learned throughout the year—not just steps or movements, but the discipline and spirit of classical dance. My beginner group performed Chha Banchos, and I danced the Neang (female) role. This was the very dance we had been preparing for all year. Every correction, every rehearsal, every sore muscle led up to this moment.


And what a moment it was.


This ceremony marked a true culmination—not just of our training, but of something much deeper. Through this practice, I’ve gained discipline, strengthened my meditative focus, and found a profound connection between art and ancestry. I've also gained something less tangible but equally powerful: friendship, mentorship, and a deepening sense of community.


I felt seen—not only by the community present that day, but by my ancestors. It was as though they were dancing with us, through us.


I am endlessly proud of Neak Kru Gabby, my teacher and friend. She is a true pioneer of our culture—a young leader who carries the lineage of Cambodian classical dance with grace, strength, and vision. Without her guidance, I wouldn’t have found my place in this sacred tradition. She is helping to shape a future where Cambodian dance continues to live, breathe, and bloom in new generations.


Participating in Sampeah Kru was more than a milestone. It was a homecoming.

Join Us: Cambodian New Year at Watt Munisotaram | April 18–20

As we continue to honor the spirit of Khmer New Year, I invite you to join us this upcoming weekend—April 18th through 20th—for the official Cambodian New Year festivities at Watt Munisotaram, Minnesota’s largest Cambodian Buddhist temple.

This annual celebration is a vibrant, joyful gathering filled with traditional dance, music, food, blessings, and community spirit. It’s a time to make offerings to the monks, connect with elders, participate in cultural games, and celebrate with friends and family under the open sky.

Whether you’ve been part of the community for years or are just beginning to explore your heritage, there is a place for you here. These celebrations are more than events—they’re acts of remembrance, joy, and cultural continuity.

✨ Cambodian New Year Festival at Watt Munisotaram 📍 2925 220th St E, Hampton, MN 55031
📅 Friday, April 18 – Sunday, April 20
🎉 Open to all — bring your friends, family, and curiosity!

Come receive blessings, enjoy incredible food, and witness the beauty of Khmer classical dance and music in full bloom. I’ll be there all weekend—dancing, connecting, and continuing to celebrate this journey with my community.


With Gratitude,


Sara Gregor

Writer, Artist, Educator of the Apsara Creative LLC

sara@theapsaracreative.com

www.theapsaracreative.com



My favorite photos from this weekend:

Button