A Painter at Work, 1875
Fuente: https://www.wikiart.org/
The winds announce changes.
I sat on my favorite little bench, the one I call “the psychiatrist,” feeling the cool breeze on my face and the sound of the leaves dancing on the tree branches.
Without realizing it, I began to hum that Venezuelan song, “Rocking the palm trees…” (watch video)
In this case, it would be, “Rocking the pine trees..”
Suddenly, a man with a beard and a hat sat down next to me. He looked familiar, so I greeted him, although I couldn’t remember his name, and continued humming my song.
The gentleman didn’t even flinch and took a canvas, brushes, and colors out of a rather worn briefcase.
In an instant, he drew the landscape before us and started colorful brushstrokes.
The artist began with the lavender tones of the sky, which gradually turned into pinks and light blues.
I continued singing, “Daydreaming, facing the moon, with pupils full of light…”
My companion continued with the greens of willows and poplars, in which he emphasized flashes of yellow and gold.
I changed the melody to “Afternoons in Naiguatá, when the sun sets, the beach sand, with its light, turns silver…” (watch video)
Here it would be, “Afternoons in Diamond Cove…”
The painter focused on the river water, which splashed with golden and copper reflections.
I continued with that sublime verse: “And far from the blue, the calm waters seem to murmur a love song…”
When I turned around, the bearded and hatted artist had disappeared.
But he left his infinite canvas, his landscape wrapped in my melodies.
“The breeze of a beautiful ideal…”
The winds definitely bring changes, of light, of colors, of seasons.
Suddenly, I remembered the name of the artist sitting next to me.
His name is Autumn.
The one who creeps into this season, quiet and stealthy, like a “sweet haven, full of peace…”
Venezuelan music is pure poetry.
