by the way...

now it is Zacchi's turn to become legal. He needs to be registered and have a microchip implanted.

Scary stuff, we think!
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change of angle

I have changed the angle of her cheek slightly, I didn't like the angle of the selected photograph. I did get a bit carried away with the bubbles, I don't think I was supposed to cover so much of her. Never mind, having to use the imagination might make her more interesting.

I have painted her fringe in a "Cleopatra" style, it is blunt cut and a little irregular in the photograph. I keep thinking about her bathing in milk... that was Cleopatra, wasn't it? I had originally thought about painting her with strawberries and pouring on the cream, but opted for bubbles instead. It has to be impressionist because of another tight deadline.

I am working on what my grandmother would have called a "come hither" look. It is more evident in the photographs than I have managed to capture here.

when grrrrrr really means

GGGGRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!!

No, I will NOT look at you. I TOLD you mum, I HATE having a bath. And it's too small for me now anyway!

next... a little different...

Day two - or is it three? I took a break - of the next one... painting in such a hurry that I forgot to photograph her earlier! She has to be finished by Saturday. I am layering on lots of paint to give texture to her hair. I will add colour to the bubbles later. I want her to be a mixture of fantasy and femininity. Her eyes really are very big, and I have much to do on her eyelashes.

ecco qui

The most beautiful words in the Italian language are not "ti amo" or "ti voglio bene" but quite simply "ecco qui".

Ti amo = I love you
Ti voglio bene = I'm very fond of you, I care about you

Ecco qui = here it is, here you are, it's here... any translation will do today :-)

My quest for legal status ended with a train ride (cost 2.50 euros) a long queue (I was number 32 and number 12 was on the board when I took my ticket) and 3 hours out of my morning. Half an hour each way, getting to the Questura at the provincial capital, over an hour in the queue, back to the station then home again by 12.40. A big lunch with my Caprile family, a bottle of bubbly, and my passport goes away and the permesso di soggiorno goes into my wallet.

I am finally a legal resident of Italy with permission to stay. You could tell if you were here, because like all good Italians I had just enough wine to make the toast, one "finger" in a small glass, and the cork went back into the bottle. Seven of us made the toast (brindisi), and more than half the bottle of spumante remained. Kiwis could learn a lot from the Italians when it comes to civilised drinking... can I say that without being too judgmental?

What does it all mean? Apart from sleeping more easily, I can now put my car in my own name and I can apply for an Italian driver's licence. I cannot own a second-hand car without this magic piece of plastic with all my details embedded into it.

Oddly enough I have been a resident since I arrived on an elective residency visa over a year ago, but that in itself did not give me permission to stay. A policewoman friend said that technically I have been "legal" since I first made application for my permesso di soggiorno, as I was "in the system" within 8 workingdays of arriving here. That would have been no immediate help if I were stopped by the police to have my papers checked, something that happens periodically.

I go through the process again next year to renew my status for another year, and then I can apply for the indefinite carta di soggiorno which (I think) gives me an identity card as well.

Whew! I will sleep really well tonight :-)

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orange is her favourite colour

It is her birthday today. I hope she liked the portrait.

She usually wears glasses, but after seeing the painting in its early stages her husband decided that he liked it like this.

I worked from several photographs, and the instruction for the background was to place her in nature. With such a strong colour in her shirt it needed a strong background too.

Like the rest of Italy they are on holiday, so I probably wont hear from them for a long time. I really hope it was a happy surprise.
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while I slept...

While Zacchi and I slept last night, dreaming of chasing cats and butterflies, my Dad continued to prove that you don't have to get old even if you live a long time.

Travelling with a group of athletes but essentially travelling on his own, he is in Townsville, Australia, for the Oceania Masters Athletics Championships. It is strange not being there with him this year, I was so often the "support crew", so I guess that is why I have been searching the net for the programme and results.

His first race was the 5000 metres. At 88 he was the only one in his age group so of course collected gold. In doing so, though, he beat home 9 runners aged from 64 to 85. His sprint to the finish was chasing a friend - just a young chap in the 75-80 age group. I hear that if the crowd hadn't roared he might just have snuck in ahead of the other runner who was unaware of the sprint from behind...

I'm jolly sure I couldn't run 5000 metres in 27.04.22 minutes!

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