One morning in March halved from 12 plus 1, where the wind had stopped fighting to surrender to contemplate colors, the Association of Artists Alicantinos up their camp battle in the marina of Alicante. Yachts reflected in the metal surface of the sea like a Monet painting, as mills in the dream of a river still as a bisque. A yachts, to see us, they are hard put propellers and rudders that stiff dipped in blue for not seeing us fight. Spars with streamers swayed in a silent nod and sharp bows brujolearon defense aligned announcing resistance.
A table was Carlos Bermejo under his navy blue cap raised wings, looking navy knob, because the previous night passed without sleep, next to the radio listening to weather reports, it might rain, now with the Customs book noting the painters crossing present and those absent. In
row, staggered along the edge of the dock over seventy artists have posted pictures to show their art the public of lost steps. This show was like a walking exhibit. Have placed their easels loft and have drawn the swords of their brushes, already give to give to the canvas in the sky a glorious morning of March 1 dozen more in the port of Alicante. A stream of people walking aimlessly along the pier, sea front, surrounded by a wall that is pier with whips bollards where the ends of the yachts they hug tightly to avoid flying.
A pair of strong local police put a couple of painters who smelled of turpentine and oil paints, when they saw they were harmless they were left out of the reach of their looks strong and skilled. Because of the distance
came on the Mayor Sonia Castedo with his pants accompanied by Miguel Campoy, president of the Port, and pushed by the artistic sense of his blue eyes went to the tables where the children were trained by seasoned teachers, talked with them and felt for a moment bohemia and took the brushes Juan Antonio Poblador, and gave enough colors to a watercolor boat as it sails to sail out, let's call the title of this concentration of artists without bikes.
morning continued with its flutter delicious sea breeze. The sun warmed the iron balustrades and railings and put like embers. The public was coming as a crowd looking for an entry for the bulls, they kept looking at the generous hands of painters, who brushstroke to brushstroke and the greed of yellow, red anger and envy of cobalt blue. Tired of so much color, the curious pedestrians sat on the terrace of the bar. The painters were finishing their artwork and the edge of the 14 hours ended the lofts of their colors.
And when the owners of the colors are gone, the wailing docks tears. If the port had wings, plus Alapuerto to be called, had been behind like seagulls flying silly. Oh
dazzling land force Levante!, Gabriel Miró wrote to describe the port of Alicante in 1909 in the "Book of Sigüenza. Today, a century later, the port has undergone many modifications in the architecture according to the needs of commerce and economy of our province and city. It can distinguish more springs, such as those engaged in coastal shipping, or international loading and unloading container ships or cruise Volvo zone, or as a sport. As is the case in which the Alicantinos Artists Association, displays his brushes and their artists in the marina area also summons restaurants, casino and entertainment venues.
Association that will someday be declared by the City of Alicante and Interest Cultural, through its many activities, we will continue painting the air in this place where the wind can touch.
For Palm
