As far back as I can remember, I would watch in awe as "The Artist" was fast at work. A little bit of green, a tiny bit of blue a tiny bit of yellow ochre and a touch of white were swiftly blended together on his easel with his palette knife. He was like a magician to me; he always knew the right colors to blend together to create each color that was needed. Soon afterwards he would take his brush and smooth some paint on it and start to bring to life his creation - which he had already laid the foundations for, upon a canvas. In a sense to me he was the closest a human being could get to God, for when his paintings were finished, they looked like they could walk out and join you, or you could walk in and become part of a landscape, or even a beautiful mission.

     As I grew up, there were many of his masterpieces that took the place of my favorite, it was a difficult decision to make indeed. As a child I liked the tiny picture of fruit that he so carefully made (and I still don't know how he achieved it). Later I would enjoy the painting of the "Old Woman with the fruit", "The Sad Clown", his landscapes and others that escape my mind at the moment. His magic paintbrush worked wonders across the canvas. When I graduated from high school, my mother requested that my senior picture would be immortalized in oils forever. As I did not like my "chipmunk cheeks" as I called them back then, I made my plea to "The Artist" to slim down my round face and make my eyes just a little more hazel. To my delight my picture surpassed my highest expectations and to this day it hangs in my living room inviting conversation from all who come across it. Would I say that is my favorite picture now? No I cannot say this, even though I love this picture.

     The picture that is steadfastly in my heart now would be the one of a happy couple. A couple with a handsome young man wearing his officer's uniform, accompanied by his side by a beautiful young woman with deep brown hair, wearing a pink dress, white shoes and sporting a ruby red smile. This picture is my favorite now. You see my grandmother died recently last year, just shy of her 80^th birthday. My grandfather died before I was born, in fact when my mother was 15 years old. I like to think now that they are joined together now in heaven for all eternity, looking like they did in that picture. Not having a worry or a care about the illnesses that later took their lives on earth. Till the very end, my grandmother never forgot about her true love, and always looked forward to the day that she would again be able to see him. She never remarried, and always talked about him, almost like he had never made his journey into paradise. In her last words that she expressed to those who were by her side, she once again saw my grandfather, and that in fact he had come to take her to the place where they would again be together for all eternity. A place where God erases all the cares of this world and gives us happiness that no mortal being could ever experience here on earth.

    Oh I apologize now since I have left you hanging with the wonder of the identity of this mysterious artist. I am wholeheartedly proud to say that "The Artist" is my uncle. A painter whom I admire, a painter whose talent, in my mind, exceeds that of many of today's popular artists and, dare I say, parallels that of the Masters. You may say that is a matter of opinion. You would be correct, as we all have our own tastes in what art is. But talented he is indeed and nothing could ever change that.

     [My uncle's website is at http://www.giorgiosantini.com/zazueta/index.html
     where a few of his paintings are showcased].