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"
I
still
like
to
be
artist
,
I
like
make
painting
when
I
have
time
,
sell
to
gallery
.
My
painting
,
always
the
same
painting
-
when
Bali
was
paradise
,
maybe
one
thousand
years
ago
.
Painting
of
jungle
,
animals
,
women
with
-
what
is
word
?
Breast
.
Women
with
breast
.
Difficult
for
me
to
find
time
to
make
painting
because
of
medicine
man
,
but
I
must
be
medicine
man
.
It
is
my
profession
.
It
is
my
hobby
.
Must
help
people
or
God
is
angry
with
me
.
Must
deliver
baby
sometimes
,
do
ceremony
for
dead
man
,
or
do
ceremony
for
tooth
-
filing
or
wedding
.
Sometimes
I
wake
up
,
three
in
morning
,
make
painting
by
electric
lightbulb
-
only
time
I
can
make
painting
for
me
.
I
like
alone
this
time
of
day
,
good
for
making
painting
.
"
I
do
true
magic
,
not
joking
Always
I
tell
true
,
even
if
bad
news
.
I
must
do
good
character
always
in
my
life
,
or
I
will
be
in
hell
.
I
speak
Balinese
,
Indonesian
,
little
bit
Japanese
,
little
bit
English
,
little
bit
Dutch
.
During
war
,
many
Japanese
here
.
Not
so
bad
for
me
-
I
read
palms
for
Japanese
,
make
friendly
.
Before
war
,
many
Dutch
here
.
Now
many
Western
here
,
all
speak
English
.
My
Dutch
is
-
how
you
say
?
What
that
word
you
teach
me
yesterday
?
Rusty
?
Yes
-
rusty
.
My
Dutch
is
rusty
.
Ha
!
"
I
am
in
fourth
caste
in
Bali
,
in
very
low
caste
like
farmer
.
But
I
see
many
people
in
first
caste
not
so
intelligent
as
me
.
My
name
is
Ketut
Liyer
.
Liyer
is
name
my
grandfather
gave
me
when
I
was
little
boy
.
It
means
’
bright
light
.
’
This
is
me
.
"
I
am
so
free
here
in
Bali
,
it
’
s
almost
ridiculous
.
The
only
thing
I
have
to
do
every
day
is
visit
Ketut
Liyer
for
a
few
hours
in
the
afternoon
,
which
is
far
short
of
a
chore
.
The
rest
of
the
day
gets
taken
care
of
in
various
nonchalant
manners
.
I
meditate
for
an
hour
every
morning
using
the
Yogic
techniques
my
Guru
taught
me
,
and
then
I
meditate
for
an
hour
every
evening
with
the
practices
Ketut
has
taught
me
(
"
sit
still
and
smile
"
)
.
In
between
,
I
walk
around
and
ride
my
bike
and
sometimes
talk
to
people
and
eat
lunch
.
I
found
a
quiet
little
lending
library
in
this
town
,
got
myself
a
library
card
,
and
now
great
,
luscious
portions
of
my
life
are
spent
reading
in
the
garden
.
After
the
intensity
of
life
in
the
Ashram
,
and
even
after
the
decadent
business
of
zooming
all
over
Italy
and
eating
everything
in
sight
,
this
is
such
a
new
and
radically
peaceful
episode
of
my
life
.
I
have
so
much
free
time
,
you
could
measure
it
in
metric
tons
.
Whenever
I
leave
the
hotel
,
Mario
and
the
other
staff
members
at
the
front
desk
ask
me
where
I
’
m
going
,
and
every
time
I
return
,
they
ask
me
where
I
have
been
.
I
can
almost
imagine
that
they
keep
tiny
maps
in
the
desk
drawer
of
all
their
loved
ones
,
with
markings
indicating
where
everyone
is
at
every
given
moment
,
just
to
make
sure
the
entire
beehive
is
accounted
for
at
all
times
.
In
the
evenings
I
spin
my
bicycle
high
up
into
the
hills
and
across
the
acres
of
rice
terraces
north
of
Ubud
,
with
views
so
splendid
and
green
.
I
can
see
the
pink
clouds
reflected
in
the
standing
water
of
the
rice
paddies
,
like
there
are
two
skies
-
one
up
in
heaven
for
the
gods
,
and
one
down
here
in
the
muddy
wet
,
just
for
us
mortals
.
The
other
day
,
I
rode
up
to
the
heron
sanctuary
,
with
its
grudging
welcome
sign
(
"
OK
,
you
can
see
herons
here
"
)
,
but
there
were
no
herons
that
day
,
just
ducks
,
so
I
watched
the
ducks
for
a
while
,
then
rode
on
into
the
next
village
.
Along
the
way
I
passed
men
and
women
and
children
and
chickens
and
dogs
who
all
,
in
their
own
way
,
were
busy
working
,
but
none
so
busy
that
they
couldn
’
t
stop
to
greet
me
.
A
few
nights
ago
,
on
the
top
of
one
lovely
rise
of
forest
I
saw
a
sign
:
"
Artist
’
s
House
for
Rent
,
with
Kitchen
.
"
Because
the
universe
is
generous
,
three
days
later
I
am
living
there
.
Mario
helped
me
move
in
,
and
all
his
friends
at
the
hotel
gave
me
a
tearful
farewell
.
My
new
house
is
on
a
quiet
road
,
surrounded
in
all
directions
by
rice
fields
.
It
’
s
a
little
cottagelike
place
inside
ivy
-
covered
walls
.
It
’
s
owned
by
an
Englishwoman
,
but
she
is
in
London
for
the
summer
,
so
I
slide
into
her
home
,
replacing
her
in
this
miraculous
space
.
There
is
a
bright
red
kitchen
here
,
a
pond
full
of
goldfish
,
a
marble
terrace
,
an
outdoor
shower
tiled
in
shiny
mosaics
;
while
I
shampoo
I
can
watch
the
herons
nesting
in
the
palm
trees
.
Little
secret
paths
lead
through
a
truly
enchanting
garden
.
The
place
comes
with
a
gardener
,
so
all
I
have
to
do
is
look
at
the
flowers
.
I
don
’
t
know
what
any
of
these
extraordinary
equatorial
flowers
are
called
,
so
I
make
up
names
for
them
.
