The Fish in the Pith Paintings
It’s a grey day, and the humidity in the environment makes us breathe water, and suddenly we feel as if we were submerged, and we are not waking anymore, instead we swim, and our bodies move through the water almost by inertia, as we wonder when will the next opportunity to breathe some air will come.
I stand in front of the pith paintings, and instantly feel connected to the fish on them. I could be with them, swimming, playing, getting lost in the same ocean, in the same pith paper, but instead I’m here, under this sad drizzle, that hits my arms and drips down my body as tiny spiders would.
In the first painting, I would feel more relaxed, probably. There is more room to swim, and the colors around me seem more sober, more calm. I could navigate that first painting, and swim with tranquility, as if the day wasn’t going to end. The fish in it look quiet, or maybe they’re just tired.
The second painting has some more action, and I could probably could swim calmly there too, but I would probably have less room. The brighter fish on top seems to take more space, and the fish around it seem more awake than the ones in the first painting. I wonder if my personality would be the same if I was a fish, or if anything in my persona would change. Would I be braver if I was a fish? I hope so.
The last painting is chaos, and for some reason it attracts me more. If the other two paintings represented a calmer swim, this one is the city life in the ocean. I would have little room to swim, but my swim would probably be more adventurous, more dangerous, and I’d know how to get around. The ocean around me would be more colorful, because more fish would surround me.
The day here is grey, and the humidity around us fills my lungs with water while the fish swim in the pith paintings, free and happy. If only I could swim with them, if only for a day.
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