"Ah, what happiness it is to be with people who are all happy,
to press hands, press cheeks, smile into eyes."
― Katherine Mansfield
(Tirchanus' POV)
I look like an idiot, using my blank canvas as my umbrella to shade me from the raindrops hitting hard onto the city while balancing the easel materials on my left arm. Imagine a 41 year old full grown adult, running like a chicken with no head under the rain as he avoids puddles and kids splashing around with their raincoats and boots on. I shouldn't have believed that weather forecast today. Damn it. The rain quickly shut down my usual routine of painting, which leaves me more disappointed than raging but do I really have a choice?
I quickly run into my store to be greeted by Amura, sitting down quietly with his hands resting on the table and smiling at my demise. "Looks like nature is tired of you painting nudes of herself," he says, chuckling at my state right now. I groan at my wet blank canvas but at least my materials make it dry and alive. Hallelujah. "Amura, people have painted her since back then so her getting mad at me just now is no excuse," I say, grabbing a towel from the restroom and patting and rubbing myself dry. A loud roar of thunder screams outside after a flash of purple lightning. Amura jumps in shock and exhales deeply. "I guess she is tired of it now." I roll my eyes at his response and continue to pat myself dry. "Did anyone buy?" I ask, putting the wet canvas on the easel. Amura walks in front of me in delight, saying, "Yep and quite a lot of people are buying it. I guess it's decorating season but that doesn't make sense since just now, it is raining." I look around the room, only to find just one painting missing. I press my lips in annoyance, obviously knowing he is being sarcastic. Amura sighs and says, "Tirchanus, why can't you be a businessman or a doctor? You would really earn more than this." Amura puts a hand on my back and pats it softy. "Look, I know that you are very talented but I just don't understand even until now. Of all the jobs you can apply yourself in, why this?" he asks as I look around the room that composes of unsold paintings, a table and chair, a cash box and two grown men inside.
My mother would always tell me that I should chase my ambitions in life; to make all things worth for myself and for everyone I know and love. However, it is ironic that she said that and pointed out that she wanted me to be a doctor or a lawyer. When I told her that I wanted to be a world – renowned painter back then, I saw how utterly disappointed she was with me. Her happiness and hopes for me were flushed down and anger floods in, rushing through her veins. She slapped my face and called me "ignorant" for dreaming of something stupid. I would never understand parents who would dictate their wants for their children. I mean, if they do really love them, why can't they trust them and support them along the way? Some parents have broken dreams or unrealized ambitions that they wanted their kids to fulfill for them. Some of them are alright with it but others shouldn't be put into that pressing situation if they don't really want to.
Well, here I am, Tirchanus Cortes, a former accountant who quitted his job to become a world – renowned painter, spent all of my entire savings to move into a new city. It feels heavy looking at my own store not profiting much but the best things have to start down below.
"Well, let's just hope than another customer comes in despite of the weather," Amura says, giving me a few more pats on the back before sitting back down and watching some internet videos. I have been thinking on shutting down the entire store soon. I mean, what's the point? Amura is right… for once. All of my time devoting to making art and trying to impress others was all for nothing. The sudden feeling of regret jolts up in my veins as I sigh deeply at my failure. I sit down on the sofa, thinking about how I regret every single decision I made. I guess I am just selfish of my own wants. By now, I should have a stable job with a good salary and a nice home for myself. I would be married by now and have kids too.
While I am wallowing in my regrets and sorrow, the store door opens wide. I look up to see… a little kid smiling. His eyes are wide in awe with the paintings hung for sale. His mouth forms a perfect "O" shape. Clearly, it is too much to take for a kid like him. He wears a blue collar shirt, brown shorts and slippers. His blue eyes reflect under the florescent light and his soft brown hair shines just right. The gloomy weather slowly comes to an end and the only thing I can hear is his silent reaction. Amura slowly approaches the little boy and asks for his name. His name is Joseph. "Hello, Joseph! Welcome to our art store. We have a lot of paintings I think you are going to love to have as a display in your bedroom," Amura greets the little Joseph with delight. The kid then walks inside, trying to grasp the surreal colors in my artworks; colors he thought would never see the light of day. The dark purples, the deep browns, the depth of the blues that ranges from light to dark and the bright yellows in some of my works have enticed him and amazed him. It is just silence but I know that he thought that he is dreaming. "Who painted these?" Joseph asks. Already adoring the little kid, I approach him with a smile. Again, no words escape out of Joseph's mouth but just amusement. His eyes are suddenly glued to one of my favorite works: the "Sampaguita's Perspective." A sampaguita is a beautiful white tropical flower that grows in the Philippines, which became my inspiration for my work. It is a portrait of a woman, looking down on her notebook with the tip of her pencil on her chin. She wears a traditional Filipino dress known as the baro't saya and she is the only focus on the portrait. She symbolizes the beauty of every person a flower sees but questions how people sees the flower that adores everyone; how worthy of it in the eyes of a human. Here's the thing, we would never know what nature thinks of us but in a perspective of a little white sampaguita, she believes that everyone is beautiful. The whites, yellows and pinks radiate in the painting with bold red lips for her lips. Her eyes are brown and her baro't saya is pearly white. Joseph whispers, "I think she will like this." Amura and I tilt our heads, thinking of the same thing: who is "she?"
"Joseph? Where are you?" Oh, shit.
A woman hurries into the store with her black, silky hair in a well – kept ponytail and a normal white shirt, black skin – tight pants and shoes. Her expressions are a rollercoaster; first, she looks desperate but determined, then looking at Joseph, she becomes relieved and calm. She runs towards the kid and hugs him tight. "Here you are! I thought I lost you," the calming tone of a mother flows in the atmosphere like a soft cologne sprayed into the air. Joseph hugs her tight, anticipating about telling her about what he saw earlier. The mother breaks the hug and with a firm, yet soft voice, she says, "Now, don't do that to me again. Mommy's been looking everywhere for you." Mommy… It has been ages since I left my own family to chase my own dreams. Heck, it is already to this point that I almost forget what she sounds like or what she looks like right now. My thoughts are interrupted by the mother's words to me, "Thank you so much for looking after him here. I never thought that he would be fascinated by art and I can't blame him, these artworks are stunning." She grabs her wallet while she asks for the price for one artwork. It is usually $3.00 or roughly P156.00 in Philippine peso. I want my works to be in their best quality and condition with an affordable price of my choice. She grabs a shocking $20.00, gives it to me and says, "Here, I would like to buy five of your works, including that." She points to "Sampaguita's Perspective," Joseph's favorite work from me. Amura assists her in getting four more and packaging all five of them well in cardboard corner protectors and bubble wrap. She thanks us and Joseph leaves with a big wave and a bittersweet "goodbye." The innocence of the child and the loving aura of the mother lightens my mood and I find myself smiling with $20.00 in my hands but it was all shut off when Amura snatches them from me and places them in the cash box. "Chan, we can do better than that." My face swells of bother but he is right… for another time.
Few more customers come to buy my works until it is 9:00 p.m. and it is closing time. Amura sits behind the table, counting every bill and coin in the box. He slams the money on the table in shock, looks at me and says, "We have earned $59.00, Chan. This is a world record in my books." I nod my head and smile, grateful that business day today has been good. "You have sold 19 of your paintings and most of them are in the cabinets! Damn, you did well today. I guess I was wrong about you," Amura pats my back, impressed and gleeful of our teamwork. I shrug nonchalantly and say, "What can you say, Amura? It's teamwork and we deserve the night." We divided the earnings equally before leaving the store with my things, waving goodbye to Amura before thinking that he's going to go to his friend's house to try to get her into liking him before being shooed off by his family, which most of the time the dogs do it for them.
I walk along the silent, almost empty Dagtum road with a few cars stopping by. I suddenly find myself waiting for the stoplight to go green but as I look up into the sky, I am mesmerized by the beautiful night sky. The full moon shines its beams onto my soft skin, taking center stage in the atmosphere. The stars are glitters on the night's cloth, twinkling and dancing around. They form patterns; patterns which I can trace aside from the constellations I know about. I can trace an eye looking down on me like God, the majestic. I find myself smiling at how the night sky is decorated tonight. I feel at ease and peace with myself, knowing that I am on the right track towards reaching my ambitions but suddenly, I feel loneliness. If only there is someone who would watch the night sky with me… It encapsulates me but I manage to break free. I know that I will belong to someone soon. It could be anyone but in my middle – aged man heart, I have hopes and faith.
I arrive in my lonely apartment room, setting down my materials on the table. I open the window that introduces me to a beautiful sight of the silent city, glittering with white and, occasionally, yellow lights. I have a fantastic view of the Tower of Garing that shimmers bright under the night sky. I sit down, my hands resting on the wooden frame of the window. The city of Kalimbahin is beautiful yet somehow, I can't seem to describe why it is beautiful. Could it be the colors of the city? Could it be the people who are just beautiful and amazing, living their lives everyday? Could it be my pursuit in finding true love… or does the city need no "why's" and just asks the people to just look around. I know that there is more to this city than meets the eye but I don't want to waste my time overthinking. Maybe Kalimbahin is the heavenly city that needs no words to explain just how grandiose it is in my eyes.
I sigh softly before preparing myself to sleep: taking a good bath and wearing my sleepwear, which consists of my favorite sky blue cotton shirt and matching pants. I say a little prayer; a prayer of thanksgiving and grace before dozing off to sleep with the cool air from the outside world gently covering me. It doesn't take long for me to fall asleep deep into my dreams.