by: Karl R. De Mesa
The pieces were collectively titled "Closer to the Angels," and the man had been staring at them for a while. He was stocky but solidly built, arms hairy, his hair gelled back from his forehead. He was dressed in smart casuals. a black, short sleeved polo pressed perfectly, trendy grey khakis, black sunglasses and Florsheims.
The opening of the exhibit was yesterday, as the poster up front had indicated, but it also said that the artist was going to be here to talk about his work to an audience at six o'clock. The man looked at his watch: it was five-thirty.
The pieces in front of him were composed of six canvases that showed the transformation of a Young Woman into a winged being. The credit lines on the lower right side of the pictures indicated that the artist mixed elements of painting, photography, and computer ministration. The woman in the work resembled a fashion model, elfin faced, high cheekbones, and in each of the six pieces she was shown in the process of transformation against a backdrop of a festival.
The first one was done in predominant white and showed the young woman in a state of dance. The second, in earth tones, showed the start of the process: her face expressing a hint of something unusual, In the third and the fourth, both done in shades of black and grey (with odd objects in the pieces themselves) the model goes from pained to agonized. Her small hands turn into claws and something begins to emerge from out of her back, a glimpse of more. Then her whole body is in seizure almost in a fetal position as the object on her back is revealed: wings. They were wings that looked more reptilian than avian; white protrusions held the top ends and hooks decorated the flared parts just like bat's wings.
On the fifth canvass, the young woman gets up, her wings half-spread, and from the angle chosen, there is blood on her dress, nearly torn from the growth. The fifth piece is done in red.
In the sixth and final canvas, the woman's wings are fully spread with a span that spills out of the borders. Her palms are turned upwards and her face holds an expression that is half satisfaction, half glee. Her feet are close together, her head thrown back. The sixth one is in gold and silver.
The man looked up and saw someone coming: another man in a shirt and rubber shoes.This man showed his age, a beard and moustache affected, but his face was rugged and emanated a sleepy demeanor.
Do you like what you see?" the man asked.
"Very much," he answered, accepting the handshake.
"Would you happen to know who Lucas Ramirez is?"
That's me," Lucas said.
"This is great work."
"Thank you."
"How much are they?"
Lucas shook his head, "I'm sorry. They're not for sale."
He noticed the fine twin circular scars Lucas had on the left side of his neck, just below the jugular. Then he nodded and smiled. "I understand," he said turning on his heel, and he walked out of the exhibit.
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