" Hay mi Madre, porbre hombre... Hay mi Madre ! "
That woman on the right, in this only foto I took of
that militant and saintly woman...Tina.
I hopped out to the car after 21 days,
they had restored me to life a couple
of time during those
first couple a days in
Hospital central de Asturias.
Had a hole in my stomach.
Had a broken ankle.
A result of my choices,
and I shoulda accepted a few things
a bit sooner, so I should have.
Standing in front of my building
on crutches lookin' up to the 5th floor.
Frankenstein slash
a stitched up
and pretty green
7" slash...in the
middle of my gut.
" Ouch" I said.
" there's 72 stairs
to get to the house. How you gonna
climb those stairs Jess ?
fuckin' Everest..." said my friend Cholo.
The old militant lived on the 3 floor of the building
next door. I knew her from the little meat shop
on Rio San Pedro, we would wait in line and
give Julian hell. Julian loved animals as a child,
so he became a butcher...
His wife has three of my early bullfighters,
She told me every time I saw her.
" I have three of your paintings..." she'd say.
Tina hollered out the window.
She told me to wait.
Tina and Cholo spoke,
and it was decide that I would recuperate
in her guest room and
before I knew it Tina
had me in her big arms
and was carrying me up the 8
stairs to the elevator...
For the next 4 months I am cared for by
this saintly militant woman.
89 years old
never married
no children
and a weird Siamese cat that coughed.
She cooked..
Thursday: Lentils and pork chops
Monday: Garbanzos and a thin filet of beef potatos
Saturday : Chicken guiesado and rice with an egg...
same every week ,
" I could do this blind..." she'd say peelin' potatos...
" No hay GRASA !!!! " she'd also say
stirring the goopy broth...
Good post op ulcer fixin' fare...Yikes.
Months later she would take a cab with
me to get my cast taken off.
She would help me rehab that ankle,
a brutal and painful affair.
Give me manzanilla tea
and little cakes, while I told her
about art and the world as I did and saw...
She said I was a hippy idealist,
I said she was a Saint.
We were an odd pair there on
Rio San Pedro street
in between Manolo's bar " Solera "
and Valintine's resturant.
The hunting shop
and Julian the butcher ...
There were many of these stories
about the people of that country
that threw this poor, but famous
artist a line durning that decade,
but Tina, Tina's went above and beyond.
Hero type stuff, so it was...
Hero type stuff.
Va bien todo mundo,
J.Level
