OBSIDIAN ISSUE #2 : WOUNDED

FORTY NINE

Our bodies sank and swayed gentle through the languid motions of the ripple, or atleast that is how it appears to be at this moment. This is how it feels as the internal wave phantom palpably nudges my skin.

It's as if regarding ourselves kissing underneath instead of watching something else with the way our bodies distorted by the waves and these perfect details have only taken me back to falling into the water with him. A captured photo of us it appeared to be when in truth is, it was a hyperdetailed landscape canvas of lovers underwater only that instead of the cool blue, they were pigmented with the hues of memory.

I dropped my eyes on the details below. Four hundred hours was the time duration when he painted this. Hindi nakakapagtaka ang tagal dahil masinsinan din kasi ang bawat detalye.

My gaze hopped to the portrait next to it. A woman with her back turning against the spectator as she faces the horizon. While her naked anatomy above the waist exposed, the rest of her body below was concealed by the waist-deep ocean. The waves of her drying dark hair stretches down the water line, the remaining length continues to expand further and float above the surface, seemingly joining or mimicking the undulations of the water bed.

Mangha akong napailing. This portrait exactly resembles a folded photograph that has been caressed by older generations. Ang bakas ng tiklop ay kuhang-kuha. The rays of the setting sun reflected diamond-like sparkles along the water. All the more it appeared vintage dahil kung tatanawin sa malayo, it looked like a photo with an added grain filter making it more polaroid-like with the supposed blue skies of the golden hour faintly pinkish. The whole image itself is in pastel hue.

Angelov made me decide its name. Sunset Rose. It was between that and Golden Hour Blush, but I guess he loves the first one.

We arrived a week early here in New York for the Armory show which kicks off the city's arts season, leaving us no space for quality time since the past days has been poured onto shipping some of Angelov's artworks from his studio in L.A, installing his booth in the venue and the vernissage.

Nalito pa ako dahil may mga art fairs naman sa LA. There's also the mega-fair Art Basel in Miami, pero rito niya napiling lumahok. Later I found that the gallery representing him hails from NYC and was the one who encouraged him to participate in one of the most prestigious art fairs in the world.

Medyo nagtalo pa kami kanina dahil ayaw niya akong iwan mag-isa at samahan ko raw siyang kausapin ang iilang collectors. I spotted at least seven people earlier wanting to converse with him. And several ones pretending to be card collectors so they could take a photo with him.

"Nandito naman si Sean. a?" Tukoy ko sa gallery owner mula sa gallery na nag-represent sa kanya. "And your art dealer friend is here to help you out. At dito lang naman ako sa booth, hindi ako lalayo."

"You just told me you want to check the other booths around. Sasamahan kita."

Sinabi ko nga iyon. I just want to snap some pictures and hopefully make an article on my experience. Gusto ko ring tignan ang iilang naka-showcase na photography shots sa Insights section.

"Sige na, Sam. Ang daming nagpapa-picture sa'kin, e. Hinihila ako doon. Claim me so they'd stop."

"It's fine!" I laughed, tenderly caressing his arm 'cause he appeared so miffed about it. Gusto kong mas matawa pero dahil seryoso ang pagiging problemado niya ay pinigilan ko ang sarili.

"So flattered ka?" Para pa siyang nainsulto.

"Of course. I'm proud to have such a hot and talented husband."

His slitted brow arched, then pursed his lips before averting his gaze. Pinagtaka ko ang kanyang reaksyon dahil mukhang malalim pa niyang pinag-iisipan ang complement ko. Nang binalikan ako ng tingin ay lalong nagdikit ang kilay niya.