The Gods of Gravity: A Story

Not I, not I, but the wind that blows through me!

A fine wind is blowing the new direction of Time.

D.H. Lawrence

Not long ago, the owner of a gallery in which I wanted to be represented visited my studio. She had a discerning eye, a successful gallery, and I respected her judgment. To my dismay, however, her verdict on many of my paintings was this: “Miguel, I love your Imagination and these dream-like paintings are mysterious and beautiful. The problem is, I have no idea how to sell them.”

She was right, of course, dreams are strange. They may be real and compelling to me, but why should anyone else have any interest in them?

And yet, and yet, the wind blows….

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Other Rivers, Other Voices

“The sound of water says what I think.”  Chuang-Tzu

Nobody believes in Charon anymore, not that it matters. No one has ever heard him grumble about his own invisibility. He has even gotten used to never sleeping. Too many deaths. Anyway, on every voyage his boat overflows with passengers. Long ago he became indifferent to the chorus of sullen mutterings from an endless queue of souls, all of them not wanting him to ferry them across the river to the other shore.

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Palimpsest – Watercolor – 9 x 11 inches.

Life is full of surprises. On the hottest morning of the summer, for example, you step outside onto the balcony to brush your hair. The minute your back has turned, your bed and clothing evaporate, a suitcase and a man’s jacket appear out of nowhere, and your home begins to fill up with snow.
I know this woman well. Life does not faze her, snow and cold least of all.

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