Landing at midnight I had no idea how beautiful the landscape would be. Snippets of it as captured in the glimmer of the headlights were my only clue. My good friend and fellow sculptor Tapiwa Chapo had collected me from Ljubljana airport in his lime-green 'Cool Runnings Mobile"... I felt at home immediately on the road in the unpolluted darkness, listening to the sounds of reggae artists such as Garnet Silk and Jah Cure... It was reminiscent of those times when I would go home to visit my Great-Grandparents in Jamaica. Yes, I felt right at home.

After about an hours drive we arrived at Bistrica and pulled up in front of a farmhouse just off the road. I could hear the symphony of crickets and other night creatures and could not contain my excitement. Within moments his wife, Tanja, greeted me with a big hug, lots of kisses, tea and bread. Not that supermarket stuff, real tasty bread, seductively coated in pumpkin seeds with lashings of natural honey and butter. After an hour or so of 'chin-wagging' I was shown my room... We had an early start.

Six o'clock in the morning... Second cock crow. My Granny was always up with the first calling just as the day would break the darkness; this would have been a late start for her. I opened my eyes and went onto the balcony feeling fresh. Inhale... Exhale... A lung full of clean air, an eyeful of undeniable beauty that would be Slovenia. Yes, I loved it! A veil of grapevines filtered the sun and in the distance past the fields, I could see the forest and mountains... Did I die in my sleep?

My excitement only ripened. I got ready to go downstairs and I could hear Jan and Lan getting ready for school. "This is Teta Nyanda!" It was hugs and kisses all round again and I felt as though I truly belonged. Next, the little guys took me on a 'children's eye view' tour of the farm pointing out all the best hiding places and freshly laid eggs. "Should we pick them up?" I asked, Jan shook his head and indicated to me that their grandfather would collect them later. Breakfast and then off to school they went with mummy.

On Tanja's return we took to the roads. Makole is a small town at the foot of the mountains, it is a clean and picturesque place. I was dressed to work, overalls, peek cap and metal toe capped boots. We went to a local restaurant, 'Lesjack' (which means fox) where all the artists, both painters and sculptors had congregated for the official opening by the Mayor and President of the town. There were lots of speeches and introductions, Tanja translated for me... it was all very official, but I did not feel under dressed I was ready for work!

After lots of food and wine, the symposium of artists went on a tour of the 20 different sites where we would create. Each location was near a house and each time we gathered to see the chosen material or view of each artist, the owners would come out with jugs of wine and platters of freshly baked cakes. They looked so proud as they paraded amongst us... I did not get it until we reached the third or fourth house. This wine was made by them, from their land grew the grapes they had loving tended and that now their juices flowed from the bottle... I drank from then on with more reverence, this was after all their creation and it was one they wanted to share.

At the 14th house, there was my boulder of local sandstone... In fact, they had brought two for me, one about 3x2x1.5 feet and the other about 6x5x4 feet in dimension... Guess which one I chose? Well, never one to shy away from a challenge, the biggest one and I would become friends, even though I knew there was no way it could be finished in five days. We drank more wine and toasted "Good Living" before moving on. I returned to work for an hour or so before it was dinnertime... I always seemed to be eating and drinking.

The next day Tapiwa left for Italy, he had business to sort out there and Tanja works as a professor in a local college. And so I was introduced to Stefka and Franc, who would later to become "moj dobro Mama and Papa!". I would stay in their holiday home opposite the stone. Great! I could wake up, a quick hop and prance across the road to work, just how I like it! "Dobro jutro!" They greeted me with happy smiles and basketful of more food and even more wine! They had heard from a 'little birdie' that I didn't eat meat (in fact everyone in the restaurant the day before was quite surprised and felt a dilemma as what to feed me - I'm not that fussy as long as 'doesn't walk or talk' but I do not mind if it swims) and so from her magical basket Mama produced some tofu, fresh fish, English tea bags and soya milk! So now everything was absolute bliss! (Anyone who knows me will testify to my love of tea!)

As Mama, Papa and I chatted on the verandah I showed them my portfolio, they were intrigued by my work... Mama pointed to the stone and then to the photo of 'Passages of the Trinity' (namely the genitalia!) and started to giggle and shake her head... She did not want a big penis in front of her house. We laughed and I teased that I would make a six foot one and leave it there for all the world to see... I can not speak Slovene and their English was just as limited, but we connected and managed to communicate successfully. Later that afternoon Tanja arrived after a hard days work, she was concerned how we were managing. Mama said it was OK because "I talked with my hands", they were patient and so was I. Each day Mama and Papa would arrive with freshly baked cakes and biscuits and we always understood each other... It was about feelings.

More feasts and more dancing, I text my Mum and Sister, they replied saying it did not seem as though I was doing much work! I was, but it was so much fun I felt no pressure. Each day passers-by would stop and ask me what I was making... In pigeon Slovene (alright then I am exaggerating - the one and two words I had picked up along the way) coupled with sign language, I explained my methods of working and encouraged them to touch and interact with the piece as it grew. I could tell from facial expressions not all were convinced, but they all commended my efforts; they said I was the little woman with the big rock.

By the third day I had decided that I want the stone to rest vertically. Drago, who had kindly lent me his hammer drill to speed up the progress although in the end I found it too heavy to use, arranged for a team of young men to hoist it up using a tractor. It was a great effort of teamwork and co-ordination. Eventually there she was standing proud against the backdrop of the wondrous landscape.

I had made many friends already, but especially with a sculptor called Mato Tertinek. He came from Ozbalt in the northern region of Slovenia, close to the Austrian border and like me had been invited by a fellow artist to take part. He had finished his sculpture from a nine foot log of oak within the first three days... "Wow, this guy works fast!" I thought. He then came to offer his help and work with me on my stone. Another great achievement because I have never worked on one piece together with someone, ever. I explained how I work and showed him what to 'feel' for and he did! From here on a great friendship grew. We shared stories about our lives that would lead to enriching both our world views.

One night as we worked and chatted under a blanket of stars in the velvet sky, we heard the haunting song of 'Sova' (an owl), Mato said that they call when death is imminent... I think he was trying to frighten me... But in my heart I knew what was dying, it was the loneliness and seclusion often experienced as a symptom of life in city and I was only to happy to bury it - alive if I had to! We worked until three in the morning too exhausted to continue. By eight the next morning I would be there again, bright-eyed, bushy tailed and ready to go.

As the time grew closer for me to leave, a sadness filled my heart; all I needed for things to be whole was to have my Mum and Sister there with me... I did not want to leave! And to make it worse Mama and Papa felt the same. On the last night Papa had prepared a speech for me, which he gently read from a piece of paper as tears flowed from his eyes. I could not understand each word, but the emotions ran deep in my heart. He pointed at me and signed that I was a butterfly and he loved me. When he saw Irena Pernat, a painter also taking part in the symposium, he beckoned her over to translate... He did not need to, I already understood... and when she converted his words into English I could not hold back the tears and began to wail... They were more beautiful than words deserve to be. In five days I had not only made lifelong friends, but had been welcomed as family.

The title for this unfinished piece is 'Ujima' a Kiswahlii word meaning 'collective purpose'. It was obvious to me that all I had accomplished could not of been possible without the undying support and encouragement of the Makole community and I wanted the title to reflect that as well as my own Afrikan heritage. I did not win the grand prize, but I left with a lot more than that. This experience will stay cherished in my heart as long as it decides to beat. There is so much more to say, so many more great memories I could share, but I am going to end it here before I drown my computer in tears...

On return to the point of beginnings, I realise once more that the road is indeed Circular. It neither begins nor ends, it simply continues; a timely expansion, developing to encapsulate all unfolding newness as it occurs.

Along the way some things have been adapted to include the possibilities of fresh notions of Being, whilst others have been forgotten; lost at the roadside to be covered in dust. There is still so much remaining to 'see' and 'remember'. Rediscovered discoveries... Imminent awakenings from comatosed slumber, activated blood sent rushing through stiff and unused limbs to 'Rise and Be' even more than before.

As you already know, the carving is not finished yet. I have brought her home to rest whilst she is under closer observation. 'We' have mutually decided to walk the rest of the road together, alone... Two bodies with one shadow.

Lately, writing the journal has become strenuous because sometimes words just do not suffice and the photographs cannot truthfully convey the intricate 3 dimensional/ emotional changes that are taking place... Right now, it is about feeling and touch; Art and artist. Without knowing how to balance out the maths I had included you in the equation... I must now re-evaluate this total sum introspectively.

Overall, the sharing process so far has been an invigorating experience; I have learned more about myself through thoughtful examination and isn't that what it's all about? By giving, I myself have received and the more you get is the more you have to give. There is a Buddhist proverb that goes: "If you light a lamp for somebody, it will also brighten your path"... How true.

On Sunday, The Creator spare, I leave for Slovenia. I have been invited to take part in a week long sculpture symposium. This is a first for me and I am nervously looking forward to the experience. Artists from around the world congregating within the landscape, all there for one synchronised purpose - to create; an awesome thought in itself. I will update you on my return. Until then, let's just wait and see how it grows... Consider the patience of the spider.

me, myself and Eye...

Sankofa - "We must go back and reclaim our past so we can move forward; so we understand why and how we came to be who we are today"... The principle of this Akan (Ghanaian) word holds a lot within in it. It is symbolised by a bird in flight with its head facing backwards...

I too need to return to the point where I had begun. Retrace my steps devoutly, and "re-memorise" how and why the first one was taken... Reminisce on how I even came to be able. When I first began this journal my purpose was to chart and share the creative process with you. Now it has become something else; it has grown and stands in its own right.

Why make Art in the first place? What is the driving force... Questions that can not easily be answered. But this is my way of making sense of the world, translating its confusion into a more palatable mouthful. A sweetener to the sometimes bitter spoonful of experience and so, I seek to make the world more beautiful with tangible imagination... But the parable does not begin or end there... The story will continue.

Consolidating me in the moment...