Wednesday, May 2, 2007

MAN ON A RED BIKE





BISIKLETA
11" x 17"
pen and ink on acid-free paper

MAN ON A RED BIKE
36" x 36"
acrylic on canvas

I finally finished the painting based on the drawing "Bisikleta". I repost its story here.

Enjoy!

_____________

"Dariuuuss!!" yells Vicky again from downstairs at the clinic. It seems like this morning she's much more "hyper" than usual, and if I were to liken her voice to anything, I'd say it's like a tidal wave of shrillness. Once she opens her mouth to release that first shrill wave, it will travel, at first clap, up along the vent that my flat shares with the clinic downstairs, making its way through my laundry hanging from a makeshift pole that I've never managed to change into something more decent like a real laundry wash wire or something like that, through my piles of boards and canvasses, and a folded-up table that have seen better days, and into my eardrum which like a rude awakening would slap me into attention and full wakeful-ness. Her voice is my morning coffee.

"Vicks, wala na naming tubig?" (Vicks, no water again?) I look down the vent and spy on Darius working the valves of the motor that brings water to both my flat and the clinic.

"Meron na. Maya-maya aakyat na rin yan. Okay na." (There will be in a while. It's okay now.) How re-assuring to here that from Darius. At least now I know I can have my morning shower again.


In a few minutes, I've done my morning rituals, brushed my teeth, put on some newly pressed clothes and thought I'd go down to the clinic to catch the day's gossip at the clinic for a while before I begin my work day.

When I opened my gate to the street, I see a small bike, must be of some child's I suppose. It had one of those red alloy bodies I see around in the streets, an unusual silver-colored bell that I don't see anymore in modern bikes and a pair of bright green wheels. I thought to myself that if I'd ride that bike, I'd be like a circus act – like one of those big clowns riding a kiddie bike and then doing stunts on it. My thoughts were disturbed when Darius stepped out of the clinic, "Good morning", and gave one of his usual quiet smiles. "May tubig ka na sa itaas? (You already have water upstairs?) "Meron na. Thanks."

My hands were on the door handle of the clinic when I saw Darius unhitch the chain link of the small bike. He put it upright, rode on it, looked to his left to check the passing vehicles and gingerly pedaled his way down the street.

As he slowly rolled off down the street, I heard circus music in my mind.

2 comments:

Senor Enrique said...

That somewhat reminds me of my bike when I was a kid. Mine had fat tires!

Love the painting!

You have got to do an exhibit soon, Daniel!

daniel palma tayona said...

i definitely will... soon. :-)