Last night I found it hard to settle down. All the usual nocturnal sounds seemed amplified and grated in my ear. I had to go to the bathroom; then I needed a glass of water… Why was I so restless?
Lying there, it came to me… just like that! I leapt out of my bed, poured a glass of tinto, then ran to the place where my easel sits, squirted some acrylics onto the plastic plate, queued the Doors, Hendrix, Cream, the Stones and Dylan on my i-touch shuffle option, put in the earbuds and cranked up the volume. I started painting. Lots later I had a big colorful canvas that would make no sense to anyone… except me.
I thought about how the early dawn has always been my favorite time of day in tropical Yucatan. The air is cool and birdsong can be heard everywhere.
As I walked innocently past an overhang, three gigantic black and tan Dobermans snarled and drooled above. They sounded like they’d kill me if they could jump down off the roof! I’ve never seen the point of this particular custom – how do the owners know if their watchdogs are sounding the alarm or merely provoking a heart attack on some hapless passerby?
The market is the only place I know where garish blue, purple, orange and green look good together. Heavenly aromas of freshly baked bread, ripe mangoes and fragrant herbs waft out into the narrow aisles helping to cover up the pungency of rotten watermelons and stale puddles of water.
Two groaning bags weighed me down as I left the Mercado… Once back home, I loaded my purchases into several large wicker baskets that sit on the open shelves of my kitchen. Along the windowsill, I placed tall multi-colored blown glass vases and filled them full with the blooms I’d bought. Prisms of light reflected on my white walls… beautiful!