This is bigger than I imagined. It seems that moving half-way around the world to live with someone you’ve only just met and her two kids in a place where almost everyone is a stranger, is actually a little difficult.

A month has gone by now, and I feel I am starting to ground. I don’t have a choice – the snow and ice have set in and we can’t go anywhere at the moment! Can’t even get the car out of the driveway.

So I settle. A tuning fork tuning in. First the wild vibrations from side-to-side and all the noise that entails, and now, slowly, finding my centre. Moving to stillness.

And not before time, either. Poor E has been so patient. My mood has been swinging commensurately with the tuning motion, and E has experienced as much of me as she could want to. All of me, hopefully. All the things that have made this one the one she felt was right for her. It is like watching a sculptor at work, only in reverse: first she saw the ‘finished’ piece, and now she sees its construction. Fascinating; difficult: I have been all this and more.

The work is clearly far from completion. We are art directors previewing a work in progress, painstakingly searching for cracks and blemishes; preparing an extensive list for the artist to consider prior to the exhibition.

And despite the list’s overwhelming length, the artist is quietly confident he can meet his mentors’ expectations. He is used to seeing miracles around him.