“In Taboga, even the shadow learns to love.”
In the warm twilight of Taboga, the afternoon slept,
and the sea, dressed in emerald and gold,
slowly caressed the silences of the horizon
as if time had forgotten how to leave.
There she lay, dark-skinned like the wet earth after rain,
resting in a hammock suspended between palm trees and breezes,
while the sky poured tired blues
over the burning skin of the island.
Her hair danced like nocturnal tides,
and in her eyes lived an ancient calm,
that kind of calm only women possess
who know the secret language of oceans.
The hammock creaked softly like an old poem,
and every movement of hers seemed to ignite the afternoon,
as if beauty could pulse slowly
without ever breaking the balance of the world.
Then I understood that Taboga was not an island,
but a luminous wound within the soul;
a place where love turns into breeze,
and nostalgia learns to remain in silence.
Because there are places not made to be seen,
but to be remembered forever;
and there are women whose mere shadow is enough
to turn a moment into latent posterity.
By León Vechhio
Size: Horizontal canvas on vertical fabric, 1.40 m height x 0.80 m width, raw (unframed);
Technique: Oil painting;
Status: Donated
Code: LV-2020-002;
Year of Creation: 2020;
Artist: Lucian Verona.
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