Drawn by a Star

Здравствуйте, дорогие друзья в России, я не знаю, как вы и где вы живете , но есть сотни из вас, глядя на мой блог. Вы в основном глядя на мои картины. Так вот некоторые новые эскизы специально для вас. Я сделал рисунок в Боливию несколько недель назад. Когда я нахожусь в Боливии Я сетях. Под этим я подразумеваю, что я нахожу молодых художников и музыкантов и исполнителей , и поощряя их и соединив их друг с другом. Я надеюсь, что Google Translate переводит это так, вы можете понять , что я хочу поделиться с вами. Пожалуйста, я хотел бы знать, кто вы есть. Напишите мне одну или две строки в электронной почте и расскажите мне о вашей жизни? megrobinson@yahoo.com Спасибо за то, что часть моей жизни , с любовью, Меg          

When one flower blooms, spring awakens everywhere. John O'Donohue I've shared some of my dramatic and challenging Bolivian adventures , but I don't think I've shared any of the beautiful, magical moments. There have been many. Here are a few. The scene: Samaipata, a small village two hours from Santa CRuz: What do you mean by magical moments asks Lucy, an English tax consultant who's just arrived at the Samaipata organic herb and veggie farm. The farm will be my home for the next week. I'm planning to paint. Twelve hours later Lucy's horizontal with food poisoning. 'Yes Megggiii ,' booms Dutch Peiter in my ear. He's the gregarious  owner of the herb farm , guest cabins, and campsite. 'Yes...you are ( to be ) her nurse!' 'You look like sisters' he adds laughing loudly. Haha. Really ? Younger sister ? Me a nurse? I do what anybody would do to help somebody who is really out of it, but I'm not a nurse. L

Hmmmm. Santa Cruz for the second time! Sticky hot. Glad I bought extra mozzie repellent. My 1970's hotel needs to be re named I think. I stayed here last year for one night. The tiny 84 year old lady owner who shuffled across the dining room to switch on the computer for me was super friendly, and I liked the central open space filled with mature pot plants. However, this visit, a more appropriate name would be Hotel Mala Suerte (Hotel Bad Luck). Returning at about 8.30 pm from having a fun time with my young friends Claudio and America, I hear a woman's hysterical screams coming from the first floor. The hotel layout resembles a prison. It transpires the woman has ( also) been caught in a scam. Fake police in the street have robbed her of all her money ( 1400$), her credit cards, her passport, her partners passport. She is about twenty years old an on honeymoon. The next day a group of teenage Brazilian girls arrive and seem to spend most of their days in the hote

Day 3. Santa Cruz. There are lots of changes to adjust to here in multicoloured Bolivia. The biggest change is that I'm not starting the journey in Peru as I always do. I find myself lying low and sleeping masses. It feels a bit like I've slept though the first ten minutes of a special movie. I've missed exciting Lima. Time in Lima gives me the opportunity to slip right into my South American Self. Arriving in Santa Cruz, Bolivia - in the beginning of the annual four day Carnival - has been wild. In the streets thousands of men women and children are either dancing, eating, or throwing water and paint at each other! Everybody is soaked to the skin and covered in paint. A great deal of alcohol ensures that folk will really let their hair down. Speaking of which, many people are wearing wigs. Some are spiked or curly, some long and or wavy. Scarlet , purple and fluorescent green are the most popular colours.Hundreds of city center shops, cafes, and restaurants