cafe glorioso

Even though I am addicted, I never ask for coffee here. This is because, as Veronica says, coffee is usually only for the viejitas (or the elderly), which includes anyone above the age of 23. The seldom sometimes that Ciro or Nancy offer me a cup, I jump on the opportunity. Hot and instant, sweet and black, Ciro placed the searing mug in my hand this morning. The Lord is Good, I thought. It must have been the hottest cup of coffee I have ever had. I was sweating perfusely after a few sips. One of the wonders of Mexico is that your hot coffee never gets cold.

I enjoyed my cafe while painting today. Sometimes Saturday mornings are lax, and the kids can rest, but only if the week went especially well. On the contrary, after breakfast I overheard Nancy address specific kids while they sat at their tables and announce what a poor job they had done with cleaning in the last few days. So we all went to work straight away. When a few kids slack off here, there is a chance that everyone will share the consequences. It seems to me that every sufface indoors and out was swept this morning as I painted for a few hours.

The mural is coming along. To tell you all the truth, I haven't liked it that much so far. I like parts, but I feel that it is not nearly as together as I could be. I remember the way my painting teacher Wilbur uses is hands to bring the air together, expressing how you want the subject to cling to itself, to wrap around itself. In my opínion, the mural wadnt cutting it. But alas! Today I think I found a solution that will make the paint more believable and more alive.

I have been taking pictures after a paint for every half hour and I plan on posting a little animation of the mural's progression in the end for you all.