The Coffee House, this day is quiet, many of the College students, with their study groups or tutors have not yet arrived or maybe have come and gone for the Day. The number of independent or career fast track workers, called “the Work from Home Crew” are down to one or two that have secured their pick of location, were the choice seats of the coffee house at that time of the morning are those tables and chairs that catches the full rays of morning sunlight to illuminate their makeshift workstations.
Within this quiet unpopulated space, one can move unimpeded to and fro around the room. New Artwork, has been put on the Coffee House walls, the black and white photos representing the faces of its culturally and socially diverse population have been taken down and replaced with color themed impressions of faces depicting the human condition.
Perusing the pictures in the room and surprised by the connections I made with many of the pictures, I was taken aback by one picture in particular that caught my eye, it was the subject matter “A Man smoking Cigarettes”. Examining it more carefully, in my mind’s eye I deduced that it must be allegory caught on canvas.
It’s subject matter, an attractively handsome, yet intense almost brooding young man, I thought he must be an Artist of some kind. Because aren’t Artist of a certain age and culture always handsome and brooding? And of course, some of that intensity and brooding brought on themselves by their introspective feeling of restraint of their will or power.
The background of this picture of the young man was drawn black, and the young man materialized on the canvas in shades of gray, which bode well in establishing the mood and temperament of the young man. Yes, I thought to myself, like this young man we are all shades of gray in life. Yes, the grays worked well for this depiction of the man.
My eye moved to the lit cigarette in the man’s well-formed mouth. How did that feel on those lips? Are those lips dry, dried perhaps by drinking wine, gin, or tequila? Or perhaps moist from the saliva of his mouth being moved over those lips by an unconscious tongue?
Is this cigarette about to allow an inhale or exhale? Is it a moment of contemplation, relaxation, a power play, or just to make a point as in a pregnant pause before his next sentence?
I am captivated by the other lit cigarettes in his hands, six more I think what dexterity! Like a card shark or mathematician who could make magic with his hands, or is the magic he does in the bedroom felt and known to him by his partner’s exhale in the release?
Seven has always been a lucky number is it for him the number that says that at the end of his day or week, by the 7th smoke his day is done, it is complete, the drama, the frustration, the stress, the disappointment, or the laughter, the cheers, the accolades, and finally the triumph is it all caught up in that 7th cigarette swirl of smoke.
-Fin-
Mike
Thanks for the memory since my recent move to Cathedral City, my participation in the writing group has been mute, which I hope to rectify soon. But what was really heartfelt about the outcome of the writing, was the reply from the artist, Sky Booth, the Artist of the Painting. Her response to me, about my writing, dated March 17, 2017 was:
“Thank you for this, Calvin.
The last paragraph is particularly powerful to me. The painting is actually of a professional skateboarder and model named Dylan Rieder that died last year. He was an aesthetic revolution to the skateboarding world with a style all his own and he is sincerely missed. The last paragraph about the 7th cigarette read to me as celebration of his life and gave me goosebumps when you read it aloud. It’s beautiful that you were able to hit on a concept you weren’t even aware of.
Thank you again sincerely,
Sky”
When Art effects and changes form and then affects again