Making and writing

So it is deep into October and we've been blessed with some glorious sunny weather. White light bouncing off the pine needles, the distant hillsides, the children's faces in the school yard. Sitting with a coffee basking in the midday heat with Andy and Vonnie. Unfortunately all good things come to an end. Autumn truly is upon us. It looks like the rains are coming starting this Friday. The wood situation is ok but we'll have to acquire more from the forest in a three weeks or so.

This place really gives you time and space to think and reflect while the trees still stand, silently presiding over all your philosophical meanderings. Caroline and Vonnie's book is beginning to take shape and what an exciting prospect it is too. Essentially it imparts moments in the forest: what does it give us and what do we give it? It's great to see them tend to their vegetables and nurturing all the organic life they are planting and growing here. I wish I could participate in this synergy with the earth. Maybe I will once I have finished the demanding series of paintings I set myself of which there are four pictured here. They have begun to take the from of visual haikus but some are more successful than others. I am seeing my practice evolve into something less dependent on photography but one that combines composition, seeing the actual scenes outside and re-organising them with other motifs. When I started the series I wanted to in some way capture the spirit of the forest. Now it seems I am wanting to re-present the dense landscape from unusual viewpoints, cut and pasting two scenes together in an attempt to communicate how the forest speaks. Sometimes the paintings are personal, such as Bole above. The trunk is a signifier for settling here but juxtaposed with the neutral background it alludes to weightlessness and uncertainty. Others are conceived with cinema in mind such as True homage to 'Red Squirrel" (not yet painted).

The Haikus are as difficult as ever. The myriad of observational to choose from each day - the routine has broken down at present as I have to write a few days worth in one shot to catch up - but once the selection is made whether it is the cuckoo tapping or the crickets following your footsteps I have to stick to it. The blog is good for that.

Maya and Violet are flying at school. Maya is learning Portuguese in her own quiet way and she can actually speak more than she lets on! Violet is loving the social life, saying hello to everyone in town and getting stuck into practical tasks at home. We have had some fun times with the tribe (Ian and Merla's gang) eating barbequed chicken in town, seeing their home at Aero de Miguel and generally shooting the breeze. Merla's daughter Anna and boyfriend Ollie will be leaving on Saturday to tour India for six months. Merla and Evie will also return to the Uk on Saturday too. So only Ian (and Johnny the landscape gardner for one more week) will be around for chats, meals and scrabble! We will see them off for one last blow out evening this Friday with all manner of parlour games including 'in the manner off' and running pictionary.

In three weeks Pat and Allan (Caroline's parents) join us here at Moses for five days so that will cool. So who would have thought life in the wilderness would be so full, sociable and thought-provoking? I didn't. What will happen today!?

47: Wed 13/10

Taste of new wine from the barrel -

Is 3'o clock too early to drink and talk?

48: Thurs 14/10

The man's face is worn with bitterness.

He has waited for us and smiles.

49: Fri 15/10

Tree-covered hills impart your mysteries,

Stories of toil and love.

50: Sat 16/10

City river dividing the great and good

Turbines appear against the scarlet sky.

51: Sun 17/10

Crickets in my footsteps

Showing their coats like songs:

Blue, red, blue.

52: Mon 18/10

Turquoise dragonfly outside my front door -

Only the hum recedes.

53: Tues 19/10

Early autumn wasps irritate

Distant woodpecker soothes.

54: Wed 20/10

Looming pines above:

Silent sentinels speak to me.

55: Thurs 21/10

A hornet flounders in my palette -

Gone in an ultramarine buzz.

56: Fri 22/10

Golden coat sings, water runs deep

Love radiates from the stones.

57: Sat 23/10

Heat and light sing though the valley:

The chainsaw can't cut the log.

58: Sun 24/10

Familiar faces speak through the computer.

Lunch of kings awaits.

59: Mon 25/10

Why can't the butterflies delight us in groups?

60: Tues 26/10

The church bells toll on the hour

It sounds achingly resonant and toylike at once.

61: Wed 27/10

Inside or outside:

The tones in the shadows are still hard to paint.

62: Thurs 28/10

The robin dinks from branch to branch.

Silvery woodland tones prepare for winter.

Second vindima

41: Thurs 7/10

Tongues of mist through the valley

blurring, focussing the landscape.

42: Fri 8/10

Rain rhythm patters on every surface:

The olive tree sighs.

43: Sat 9/10

Understanding a strange tongue

needs a full belly. The wine pours.

44: Sun 10/10/10

Iridescent lilac butterfly

shows its small glory to my dreams.

45: Mon 11/10

Paint punts around on the canvas -

The trunk now revolves.

46: Tues 12/10

Ah, some new people here!

Lets all listen to the old man sing!

36 Sat 2/10/10

The mall emerges from the dusty plain

gleaming like a sphinx. Dead eyes.

37 Sun 3/10/10

Swirling sheets of rain are a shocking assault.

Inside out.

38 Mon 4/10/10

Early rainbow a glorious arc,

birds' chorus after the rain.

39 Tues 5/10/10

Disturbed hawk flashes in the headlights

white wingtips alongside then into the dark.

40 Wed 6/10/10

The wood pile looks neat, trees still again

The distant chill moves closer.

Vindima and Lenha

It was great having Stephen and Sophie to stay for a few days. There were lots of late night conversations, feasts and just hanging out. On the saturday we all got stuck into helping a local shopkeeper, Laurinda with her grape harvest. It was a fantastically physical, light-filled and sociable experience that really took us all by surprised. No sense of drudgery was felt. A true sense of unspoken teamwork.

Since Stephen and Sophie left reluctantly ( they truly understood why we have come to live here) we have torn into lenha. This is wood-collecting, cutting and storing. Hauling wood and using the chainsaw is great fun but absolutely exhausting when you are novices like Caz and I. It's really helpful to have patient and helpful neighbours like and Andy and Vonnie in the event of cutting waterpipes and getting up and running with the use of the tractor! Well we have a good months worth of wood now and rain comes tomorrow but more sun next week. More time to get more wood before the winter rains start at end of October. Today we visit Castelo Branco, the nearest city to indulge in delights like H & M and McDonalds for the girls!

Haiku 26 Wed 22/9

Toad hops in the door

Smile and point him to the stream

Haiku 27 Thurs 23/9

Luscious grapes explode on the palette -

Centuries of love and folly

Haiku 28 Fri 24/9

The sunset burns pink, red and orange

The camera can't cope.

Haiku 29 Sat 25/9

Many hands exhaust the sunbursting vines.

Even the hornets ignore us.

Haiku 30 Sun 26/9

Wasps are out to harass

after the chicken and the quail are devoured.

Haiku 31 Mon 27/9

Shutters closed, grapes shrivelled

In the eerie silence.

Chairs still set in the tiny chapel.

Haiku 32 Tues 28/9

Broken patterns in the mud

flank the great river.

Torrent will surely come.

Haiku 33 Wed 29/9

Chainsaw screams into the baked trunks

Sweat dripping like a tap.

Haiku 34 Thurs 30/9

The logs grow in their piles -

I can feel the harsh chill already.

Haiku 35 Fri 1/10

Dark cavities in the rocky hillside

Diamond webs on the bark.