WEDNESDAY 6 AUGUST
It is just 730am, and I have already been to the top of the mountain across from the art camp, to see the Slovene world some 4500 feet below, or as much as I could see through the cloud cover. These walks, twice a day, have become routine to life here. I am an early riser, and even though three blankets and socks are tempting enough to remain in bed, the light over the mountains is something not to be missed.
Local colour on the way to the mountain top
Yesterday the gang took photos from the edge, from the outside of the fence… and my knees went weak. They dared me to do the same. So I decided to conquer my fear without an audience, and as this morning was partly cloudy… for about half a minute, then bright blue skies, I took my time and trudged uphill to the fence near the edge of a 1000 foot drop, delaying arriving at the fence with frequent stops to photograph flowers and cow pats.
The view was breathtaking – mountains for miles and miles in all directions. Stomach in hand, I shot a quick video http://youtu.be/144VYL6UUzM and hastened down to the safety of breakfast. The rest of the day was spent hard at work, coaching images hidden in the canvas to the fore, accompanied by spirited multi-language discussions about Picasso and how he worked, and how best to get your work shown to (and bought by!) an international audience. So much work left to do. Dare I show my artwork in progress to the artists due to arrive tomorrow?
Just before lunch, to stretch the legs and clear the mind, we all went back up the mountain, and again, my colleagues tried to get me to the edge. The hill in question is a bit steeper than Market Hill, and almost three times its length. Right turn, back down the hill I went, this time to the safety of lunch. Today’s offering – Obara, chicken soup with dumplings.
Obara – chicken soup with dumplings
More work and coaxing of hidden images from 1pm to 6pm, until the afternoon light and more importantly the temperature, tempted us out for a gentle walk out of the gate and to the left. We followed the narrow winding road, crunching white stone underfoot, and passed cows at rest, cows eating, sidestepping cow pats. In the distance we saw a cowherd gathering his beasts. It was really quite peaceful.
Finished! On to the next one
Supper, write this blog. Bed.