Brilliant yellow, on spikes of grey-green lining the road to Boggomsbaai.

The sound of waves, pounding the shore. Rhythmical. Sensual.

Foot prints, as transitory as the land-art in my mind.

A tad too much red wine with an excellent peri-peri chicken, Koos cooked, that removed the top of your head with its subtly building heat. Boring, it was not!

Polly’s tail feathers flecked with white from the wet paint around the new front door. The floors in the studio are being polished and the travertine marble repaired. New blinds and shutters are in, and the long kitchen counter and cupboards are installed. A few harrowing moments, all forgotten as we start to unpack.

The small painting sent to Switzerland and the Instgram competition sorted. Branding on the studio windows delayed by the crazy weather. Signage for outside the studio on order. 

The wind has turned, and the days heat has been replaced with chilly winds that smell of moisture. Skies full of tumbling clouds, that remind me of the painting I did of the clouds over Botswana. The two patios working well, allowing us to make the most of the variable weather.