I miss many places, things, and people, and I miss some past moments of my life more and more. Sometimes, I remember brief flashes to moments, people, and places.
It sounds ugly when I say I've forgotten them.
Perhaps our hectic lives push old events into the farthest drawers of the brain, but it only takes a small stimulus, an image or a word, for these memories to come flooding back. Another thing I've noticed is to stay focused on that memory. Otherwise, it goes as quickly as it came.
I miss the only established painter who called me a friend.
Constantin Daradici (1948-2017)
I met Constantin at an art gallery in the center of Bucharest. My wife worked for a few years in that place where painters exhibited works to be sold. She worked with most contemporary Romanian painters, and Constantine was her favorite, not only because of his talent but also because of his human qualities.
Constantin left us in 2017, and we didn't even know.
That year, my wife and I worked away from home, in a city more than 4oo kilometers away.
This incident would suggest that this friendship did not exist and was only in my imagination. It may be so, in a way, because it didn't manifest itself as a classic friendship, with a lot of time spent together, mutual visits, or shared vacations.
And yet, Constantin called me his friend!
In 2012, he gave me this gift: a dedication drawing on which he wrote:
Terrace in Greece—Pastel—20 x 29 cm.
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To Dan with love "Happy Birthday" Constantin-Oct. 2012
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Constantin knew my love for the sea, my admiration for Greece, and my desire to visit the islands. And so this pastel was born.
Of course, some people are used to calling others "friend" without a friendly relationship but more of a verbal tic, but this is not the case with Constantin.
More plausible is that there was a mutual esteem, to which my wife contributed a lot. She told me about the painter's bohemian life, which she knew from his and his colleagues' stories.
My few meetings with Constantin and my small contribution to improving his workshop were enough to bring us closer and make us friends.
I have had and have friendships that manifest themselves differently. I have friends I see weekly, but I also have friends I haven't seen for years, and we don't even talk during that time. Every time we meet, it seems like we haven't seen each other for only a few days. Feelings are unchanged. In this category, I can also include my relationship with Constantin.
The death of Constantin Daradici showed me that we humans do not know how to appreciate and enjoy our close people enough when they are alive, and after their loss, we regret that we were not together longer.
Now, I miss Constantine.
I'm sorry we didn't know each other better, and I think about him daily. No, it's not an exaggeration; I think about him every day because I remember him when I look at the pictures in the living room.
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Five paintings are by Constantine and two by his wife Iulia, a painter almost as good as her husband.
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I rely mostly on photos in all my blogs. Words don't help me as much as photos.
I always start with photos when I want to write a blog. Photos remind me of places, events, and feelings that turn into words.
I make this statement as a plea to those reading not to over-judge the text and to focus on the photos.
A wise saying goes that a photograph is worth a thousand words, but I don't think so.
It depends on the viewer.
I'm watching you!!
