April 15, 2007

"And what is to cease breathing, but to free the breath from its restless tides, that it may rise and expand and seek God unencumbered?
Only when you drink from the river of silence shall you indeed sing.
And when you have reached the mountain top, then you shall begin to climb.
And when the earth shall claim your limbs, then shall you truly dance." - Khalil Gibran

The phone call came first thing on Monday morning, definitely not the kind one wants to get at any time. My friend had died in a motorcycle accident the day before. I was honored to be able to call Patrick Denoun my friend. It’s one thing when we know that someone is very ill, and that the end is near. It allows us to prepare for their departure, at least a little. But when death happens suddenly, unexpectedly, as was the case with Patrick, it is devastating.

The friend who called me kept on apologizing for being the messenger of such bad tidings. Obviously, it wasn’t his fault. I hung up, dumbfounded. How could it be? Why? Here was a man in the prime of his life - and an international career. He had found the love of his life when he had given up hope of ever doing so. He and his beautiful wife Kathy were blessed even more with the arrival of a set of twins. Patrick was overwhelmed, and he remained in that state of euphoria.

When I first moved to Vallarta, I was invited by friends of ours to celebrate my birthday at Café des Artistes. That is where I first saw one of Patrick’s paintings, one that has remained in my mind ever since. It is the huge one, the one with a Bedouin on a camel, seen from the ground, with a deep, clear blue sky behind him, his face veiled with a pure white kaffia. It made me think of Lawrence of Arabia and all the Bedouins I saw while traveling through the Sinai Peninsula so many years ago. It is a most powerful, impressive painting.

I first met Patrick by chance a number of years ago, at Eric Lenoir’s Pastel du Village (now closed). Puerto Vallarta’s little «francophone» community used to gather there for breakfast, brunch, lunch, hours and hours of just chatting, about everything and about nothing. Patrick was sitting by himself. It took all my courage to go up to him, introduce myself, and tell him what an honor it was for me to finally meet him in person, how much I admired his work, etc. etc. He invited me to sit down at his table and we started talking. We didn’t stop for about four hours. A friendship was born.

Over the years, I had the pleasure of visiting his home-retreat up in El Nogalito a number of times. A haven within paradise. He showed me unfinished works, and even complimented me by asking for my opinion on certain photographic / computer points… It made me feel so special. Patrick did that to people. That special, famous man was one of the most humble and unassuming people I have ever met.

You who are reading this in its printed form can admire the photos he sent me recently, of his beloved twins - just because he was so proud of them, so much in love with them and their mother, so much in love with life itself.

Perhaps that is why he so enjoyed his motorcycle, the one on which he died. I hate motorcycles. Riding them has hurt so many friends of mine who love them. The fact that the driver of the vehicle with which Patrick collided tried to flee, but the police caught him. He was released after paying a $21,000. US Dollar fine. It makes me sick.

Rest in peace, our dear, dear friend. All of us who admire your work thank you for the beauty you shared with us through your talent. And we who knew you, loved you and admired you for who you were, will miss you very, very much.

Once again, I am reminded of that saying, the one that says something like «live every moment of every day as if it were your last, but make plans as if you will live forever.» I think Patrick did that.

Among the notes I made for this writing last week, prior to Sunday, April 8th:
Back in 1970, futurist American writer Alvin Toffler and his wife Heidi wrote a book entitled Future Shock in which he pointed out the acceleration in the rate of change occurring in the world, stating that change itself «is non-linear and can go backwards, forwards and sideways.»

I have found myself thinking of him -and the ideas he expressed in that book- more and more often over the last three years or so. I did so again the other day as I was driving past the corner of Insurgentes and Basilio Badillo on the south side of town. The huge corner lot was once home to a bus terminal. Now, from one day to the next, everything was razed. No one is sure as to what will be built there. It appears that everyone is into building condos, perhaps that is what will go there too. Across the street from there, a six-story «hotel» has gone up over the last year or so. Rumors have it that the owner of that particular lot only had a permit to «renovate» one floor… In his book, if my memory serves me right, Toffler gave the example of woman asking her son to go get something at the corner store, but when the child got there, it was gone. Yes indeed.

And on an even more mundane level, a reader by the name of Casper (could be the friendly ghost… he didn’t add his family name) sent me an email that read as follows: «Waste paper in toilets is a subject that needs to be addressed. The public toilets in this town are downright shabby looking and smell bad because of the overfilled wastepaper baskets with soiled paper. I find this very offensive in this day and age to see dirty paper put into bins next to the toilet we are sitting on. The soiled paper is not collected often enough to stop bad odors. The Walmart store, Sam’s and several of the grocery stores have this problem as well as public bathrooms all over town. PLEASE people, do not put the paper in bins, this is 2007 for god’s sake! Are we back in the stone age?»

It appears to me that Casper is unaware of the sewage system in this town. I cannot give you exact percentages, but I do know that outside of the hotels, the plumbing in a great number of the buildings in town -if not the majority- cannot handle waste paper in the toilets. It also appears to me that our friendly ghost hasn’t traveled much around the world, because if he had, he would know that patrons in many countries, all of which are in the year 2007 just like Mexico, are asked to please deposit their waste paper, sanitary napkins, etc. in the waste baskets. I agree that the baskets should be emptied frequently, but that is something Casper should mention to the supervisors at establishments he mentions in his email. That’s all I have to say on the topic.

Actually, that's all I have to say this week. Please forgive me for the lack of levity. Just have a wonderful week, dear reader. Live life! Hasta luego. pvmom04@yahoo.com