"Alberto–Chess"
A most monotonous month in sunny Cancun.
January 2022, a solo recuse from the Canadian winter into a more amiable environment for toiling at the last few illustrations from my most recent picture book, Krumpp’s First Taste.
The days were industrious, and bare, and perfect.
Starting with a nature-enveloped workout via outdoor gym. Ants, and magpies (my now favourite bird) wrapped around me for company.
The tricep pull was weighted with a log from a chopped up tree, made lighter every few days by a very determined group of termites.
Fruit salad for breakfast–the most delicious papayas and strawberries I’ve had to date. Otherworldly, really.
I found a red bouncy ball in my luggage that I’d toss against the wall until I’d had enough–about 30 to 45 minutes tops each time.
Then I would draw.
Then I would stare at the wall, or out the window until there was nothing left to see.
Then resume drawing ‘til evening, interspersed with a few more ball-wall-bouncing episodes.
After dinner-street tacos, or bolognese I’d make at home-I would join a pair of friends I made in the park nearby.
Two older gentleman who let me first observe, then eventually participate in their daily chess matches.
I scarcely won, and mostly lost. One, for sake of my ambitions to befriend the tandem (false), two because of the formidable opponent I sat across from most often, etched permanently into my phone contacts as, “Alberto/ Chess”.
I would try to watch a movie most nights and fail because the wifi was too spotty-I was virtually in the Jungle, after-all.
Then I would paint for a bit until it was time to sleep, pausing only to swat mosquitoes or chase away geckos that had managed sneaking into my apartment.
I aspire to hold them in the ridges of my brain as long as I can manage, those monotonous, winsome, warm winter days.
All 28.
What to listen to while reading: Dos Gardenias, Buena Vista Social Club