No water for two days. No power for 3-6 hour blocks every day for a week now. Phone goes out, then on again. Now the appliances, computers and everything with a cord starts to break down. Chargers are blown, surge protectors die. Then waves of power come and go: zooming fans, followed by brown-outs. One night I was watching American Idol and everyone sang off key, until I realised the sound was wonky. It was like a fever dream, or mushrooms, and wow the contestants never sounded so good. In the village you don't need any of these things to be productive, and you're asleep by 8 PM, well rested and up at 6. Somehow town life has completely changed our body clocks and even two hours without a fan or my computer in the mid afternoon feels like a week in solitary confinement. Because nothing else can be done, we're all painting the walls of the house here---paintings, designs, big trees with birds and fruit on them. Leonard's friends come over and they get pencils out and start drawing all over his bedroom, then the paints come out and a few hours later it's a masterpiece. Madonna has a very fine drawing hand, and creates wee little monsters at the thin ends of branches, but little Nancy is much more Mark Rothko and favours brown paint and wide brushes, calling everything she does a storm. So here are some special shots of a rasta toddler, a vagina cave, a flying boy, a singsing mask, a white cuscus and a beautifully painted face.