I blinked and a week has already almost elapsed. In an unexpectedly anti-touristic move, I didn't even see any of the sights - the city proper - until Thursday, having spent the first few days in the 'district of the colonies' - Graca, which is my temporary home and workplace for the next few weeks. The city, baked in sunshine, is completely reflective: slippery foot-polished mosaic pavements, cobbled roads and tiled facades have had me walking around with a squint, giving the public squares and courtyards a sharpness that comes as a shock to unaccustomed eyes.
Pictured, just one of many brilliant painted shopfronts on the Rua Boa Vista; I bought some wire mesh from a place directly opposite that seemed to specialise in car-radiator parts and unusually shaped connectors to join unknown parts to one-another. I carried the roll of mesh under my arm back across town. It got heavier as I got hotter. A month here in total, with an exhibition pencilled in at the end, brings some urgency to make work alongside a strong desire to explore and enjoy. It always has to be a balance, of course, bananas and monkey nuts have been keeping us going late in the studio.
Meanwhile, Pedro has been introducing me to everyone: taking me to openings, dinners, concerts and bars where they read aloud drunken poetry. It's been a year and a half since I last saw him in London and there's been lots of catching up to do. We begin talking about mutual friends - their new relationships, obsessions, achievements, marriages, babies. Compressed like this, into snippets of conversations, you realise quite how quickly all this changes...
Time, as you might tell, is keenly on my mind, though in the studio (as ever) it flows in mysterious and unpredictable ways. I am finding concentration, and the rhythm that moves one thing to the next with a kind of easy confidence normally suggests i'm on the right track. Though this I might well regret saying...
