Mar 8, 2015
The house down Pender
When I stretched my palm in the sunlight during the late hours of this very morning, I felt the sun breaking through the cold layer of this winter, and smelled the fragrance of a new season. Spring is back! She Is bringing songs of restless birds, while saturating the air with colors of pink and white blossoms. Many things have changed since the last time I saw a cherry blooming, but some things... Some things just repeat themselves: places and situations. Streets I have already walked on, trees I have watched suffer the bites of this winter, now are beaded with sleepy gems.
Well there is a house down Pender, that seems to have been there for a loooong time. Every time I walked past it I couldn't help but stop and stare at it, until time constraints and fear of elderly sentinels labeling me as serial killer would drag me away. It's a small house between two newer ones, in a peaceful neighborhood. If I look down, I see a floor that digs its way underneath the street level. There is something mysterious about it. It GOT to be a passage to another dimension. There is got to be a wormhole or something hidden down there! Anyway, today I was walking down that path again and, sure enough, I stop and stare... Yes exactly like a creep. This time is different: A cherry blossom is right in front of it blooming gloriously, and I look at it from different angles trying to find a good spot from where to draw it. Would be nice to have some water with me for my watercolors but as it happens I ran out of it.... And I guess body fluids don't count. For a moment I glance at the windows, I wonder what kind of people live in there... Maybe I could ring the bell and ask for some water. Sure! I laugh at myself and walk nervously in front of the fence. I am about to give up, a couple is walking towards me an I'm totally giving the wrong impression. Too bad Carlo, it will be for another time. I walk towards home acting like nothing happened, but as I walk past the couple I see them smiling in amusement. I stop and look at them walking towards the house. “No way...” Sure enough the man opens the gate and I trot my way back to the house. The lady anticipates my question “do you want to take a picture of the house?”. I , with an “excuse me ” stuck in my throat, slip an “actually ... I would like to paint it”
“Paint it?” She pops with a pronounced European accent. “With what?”
“Watercolors” I'm looking around trying to find a piece of mind on what kind of situation I'm getting into. But I have learnt my lesson, don't be afraid to ask, then let things happen and enjoy the ride, watching how far the wave of events can take you.
“Oh did you try the new ones? We are just back from Opus, they are amazing!”
Of course! Artists! “Oh you are painters too?!”
The men is already on the doorstep, quietly following the discussion. The lady even allows me to be within the fence, and come in if I need the washroom, but I decline, as the the feeling of intrusion takes over. Yet I ask for water, and she brings me a little jar and some paper towels for the brushes. “Would you like a stool?” She offers. I'm always impressed by kindness. Often comes from unknown people, in greater amount then I can let myself accept. So I decline again and try to find a spot to draw.
“Where are you gonna sit then?” Scanning my figure as it would fall to pieces within the next minute. Then she glances at the house, exhaling, “Oh I have been trying to paint it myself, but I have to cut that branch down: it covers the front of it.” We finally introduce to each other and after a quick handshake she disappears in the house throwing a “your hand is freezing” behind her shoulders. Yeah... I've got to do something about it...
Well as I sit down on the concrete, magically that big branch perfectly frames the entire silhouette of the house. I sincerely hope they will not chop it down... It would be a shame.
I lay down the materials, pick up my pen and take a deep breath. Here we go!