Kite Runner Oil on canvas 60cmx50cm From my Afghanistan Series Pallet knife scraping away the mush of paint, as I wrestle with the portrait on the easel. Slowly evolving out of my incompetence. Shaking hands adding their own complexity to the painting.Kind of heading to the geriatric FKT’s on our usual running and cycling routes. Relieved that limb, or mechanical breakdown, are balanced by the joy
Seven Passes road to Wilderness makes for a fabulous 75km morning ride. Twisting down through the gorges, the light filtered through the indigenous Forest. Didn’t see any elephants, although that could have been due to the sweat staining my glasses. Legs finished. Bum, complaining. Flava restaurant the meeting point for the support crew that assembled the bits of cyclists, gear and bicycles for the
Laboured through my jog, the various parts of my body not working together. Think I left some of them sleeping. Outside the studio, life on the estuary, constantly changing. A yacht poorly positioned is careened as the tide goes out. Frantic activity to move it before it's damaged. Firefly spots of brilliant colour from kite surfer sails in the afternoon sunlight. A visiting yacht
INSIDE DEVELOPMENT Jan Raats, country director of the United Nations Office for Project Services's South Sudan Operations Center shares what it's like working in South Sudan. South Sudan isn’t just the youngest nation on the planet, it also remains plagued by conflict and a lack of infrastructure and basic resources. Aid organizations have been rushing in over the past year to fill the void, only
Anticipated craziness as South Sudan moves towards the first year anniversary of its crisis forcing travel changes. Fortunately I could get flights! On the Way Home, a painting from a photo by Elke taken on the sand road that leads to UN House. Taxi, at speed, against an orange, dust filled sky. The multistory building, incomplete and open to the sky, a glimmer of
The sounds of the call to prayer floating on the breeze. A bunch of missions from HQ in Juba Town, and my house looks like a refugee camp again, with the washing machine and bathroom coordination the biggest challenge. Good to have their energy and expertise available at this time of change. My body is shedding water as it tries to cool down after
Evening, still hot in Juba Town, after a sweltering day. Generators, gasping for breath in the heat, buckling under the additional aircon demands. And, summer isn't even here yet! The full moon, ducking out from behind clouds forming into thunderheads. Before they loose interest and whither into puffs of candy floss. The hill behind UN House, wreathed in smoke from a dozen fires,
Sky growling. Lightning in joyful abandon. Rain on the iron roof. Air flavored with freshness. Sheets in the wash as I managed to catch my finger on a staple that was sticking out of the mattress somewhere. The amount of blood disproportionate to the cut. Somehow, I need to settle my restless mind and sleep before another demanding day, where I have staff who
Head full of cold, my cough not the best remedy for painful ribs. I used Sariana's photo of a field of daisies for my painting, Garden Pixie. I noticed a shadow in the one part of the picture that reminded me of a pixie. All the meds? Solar powered traffic lights are being placed at the major intersections around Juba Town. Many of them
My ribs still a tad painful from where my elbow went into them on my fall, so no jogging Also too lazy! I do have Japanese magic pads to ease the discomfort. My running magazine has suggested a core-muscle workout as an alternative to shaking the ground. Sunday Papers, my painting of a man sitting in a sack of sorghum reading a news paper.