Baking With Paint

Episode 1 - "And it hurts remembering..."

Episode 1-  "and it hurts remembering..."

                                                                                   J A V I E R

                                                                                      • • •

As a painter, I have learnt one thing in life, and that is nothing lasts forever. Things will end and the people you love will change one day but you know what? Life will always go on, with or without you. But from my perspective, an art painting will never change. Yes, it may change in how it's drawn, painted and colored but the feelings expressed , thoughts, dreams and observations behind why the painting was drawn will never change the true value of it.

With a successful career of a doctor, being the son of the famous millionaire, Barnabas Rodriguez the owner of the Rodriguez Empire, and having an older sister who's hardworking fashion designer moreover also owning her own Fashion and Textile Company in Spain. As you can probably tell, I was raised in a wealthy family. I don't really dislike it because I'm able to help the less privileged and donate money and gifts to those in need.

Well, one may ask why I prefer to be a painter?

The thing is that I'm different from other painters.

In one word people say I'm white light?

In a sentence people say  I'm a wild swirl of all existing colors?

In my way, I'd rather say- I'm someone who never runs out of color. I'm also a silent poet., a colorful soul but a silhouette. But People say my colors are my silent notes, and when I pour them on my canvas, I depicts my silence, thoughts and myself- raw and sour. They say I'm something unique like a hurricane- a colorful one. I can cause devastation by my wild strokes and they also say I am as much capacity to create a sanctuary by softer strokes. I can cause rain like tears to fall through the eyes or I can simply cause chaos.

They say I'm limitless, a creature capable of creation. I watch and notice everything. I feel too much that sometimes, I'm on the verge of spilling them. Then I watch over the blank canvas on my easel accompanied by color containers and brushes. They say my hands twitch to reach out to them for the sake of art. Then, after all, dilemma, I decides to reach out and bleed myself down on that canvas and fill up myself with colors.

But through my painting, I imagine to one day meet my beloved soulmate. I'll dip my brush into her soul, I'll display her motley and ethreal emotions onto the canvas. She should be simple and surreal! Her life will revolve around the hues, the chromes, the crimson, the blue's and the black's.

I imagine her to be an intermediate between virtual and real. I'll be the only one who will add color to her life and noone else. She'll have an entirely different world for herself. Unlike the real, pernicious world, her life will be filled with various colors of life. She'll be an artisan, an illustrator with an arched, ardent framework. But I must say, it hurts remembering the fact that I do not know who she is and where she is, and I may never meet her but I won't let that ruin my love for painting, I imagine her to be blessed with a vision, which can reflect back the rainbows during stormy rains. I imagine her to be have a svelte personality dwelling through the aisle of possibilities. She'll be convener of expression , ceramism, radiance, divinity. I imagine her as an epitome of hyper creativity, fascination and the establisher of phenominism and authenticity! From my fingertips only one drop of paint will make her whole and satisfied. I'll love her beyond paint, beyond melodies and beyond words.

Promptly, I began to use my thoughts of her to paint. I picked my brush clearly fascinated and decipted in each stroke I made. I painted exactly what I had seen in my head and I could only see a small glimpse of her in blueberry paint. Only the genuine meaning could identified by me, myself and I alone. People would see the picture but not the emotion nor inspiration behind it. Finally when I was done with my masterpiece I put it in an envelope with the rest of my artistic stuff near the window.