How Delightfully the Days Pass When You're Doing Nothing Very Much
So after that Dreamy Monday, the days passed... I painted in the mornings while Steve slept late. (I wake early no matter how much I try to sleep late. ) The painting remained elusive, confused, experimental and I relaxed into it, mucking around without pretension or even knowing what I was doing. Strangely, this had its own usefulness... to be without conscious purpose, to be free. I painted on the terrace surrounded by absolute quiet, purple pink, creamy white, green, sand-colour of tiles, the wilting orange trumpet flowers. Occasionally the neighbour's dog barked. I hushed him/her in Greek to no avail. I made coffee in the kitchen off the terrace and smoked a few cigarettes. Thought I'd gone to heaven with no one to nay say me. We went almost every day, to shop for provisions, and then to the Beer Garden for Steve's noon day beers and for me to swim. I kept off the pre-lunch wine and drank icy cold 'χυμό ροδἀκινου' (peach juice), asking for it in Greek - I had to try - and realise now I was pronouncing it incorrectly... and saying 'rodIkino' - not 'rodAkino', so getting a confused reaction from the lovely waiter. (Ο Σερβιτόρος.) Stupid. I knew better but couldn't get it out of my mouth properly. Greek is not easy to get your English-speaking mouth around the sounds or to remember where the accents are. (Actually to remember anything... although I have to admit that on some occasions I spoke a little in Greek and was ANSWERED in Greek which has got to be a mountain climbed.) This below is another painting, a collage made from the various experiments, also reflecting the deep black of the sea and the colours that push into the mind when you're somewhere there in the quiet deep.