Diary of an Adventure

Juba Adventures

Early morning darkness. White canvas glaring. Waiting. Demanding. Images of New York City screaming from its surface.

Singing and drums from the camp with the sunrise. My feet pounding the road. Different aches. Last part, a walk to ease cramping in my shin of all places.

Painting of early mornings on the streets of NYC, reflected light in overnight rain puddles. Where only the homeless and the jet lagged roam.

A sky full of stars and frogs tuning for evensong. My laundry is sorted, although I can’t leave it on the patio overnight anymore as there are kids roaming around the place from the PoC sites, stealing anything they can. The bug screens not much of a deterrent.

The cholera outbreak compounding the uneasiness of the ongoing conflict in the country and the tension of living in this twilight siege in Juba Town. On the surface life looks normal, but its highly unstable and unpredictable. I guess its probably a bit like living with an abusive drunk. You never know what is going to walk through the front door. I’m evacuating ill staff again from the north of the country. Hopefully its malaria or typhoid. Who would think that they would be considered safer options! Madness.

My 2am waking up is starting to take its toll. Eddie left after our standard end of day debrief and wrap up after eight and I settled down with a glass of wine to watch an episode of House of Cards. At some point, I woke up to find that I had emptied the wine all over the couch! Fortunately the glass didn’t fall on the floor and smash. I only have two.

I managed to send off my submission to the Dave Brown Competition. Its the third time I have submitted my work, and although I haven’t ever made it to the final 12 artists, the comments have been positive. The best part is that they have a different panel doing the selection each time, so my work gets to be seen by a wide veriety of collectors and curators. Even if I dont get through, there is still a chance that one of them will like what they see.

After sweltering days, the air over Juba Town is full of bad tempered storm clouds. Like a dog barking at a gate. Full of bravado, fierce and noisy. With nothing to follow

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