There is a street artist sitting on a piece of mat on the ground. He is a caricaturist, and from the volume of people gathered around him, a pretty good one at that.
His fingers were ink-stained and his slightly obese body squirm uncomfortably in the tiny confines of the mat. He works hard, sweating in the summer heat with a mischievous grin perpetually plastered on his amorous face.
Not just good at his art, he's also a face reader. He paints your caricature on the spot and writes a short verse about what he can tell about you from your face, on the painting.
I waited a long time for him.
When it came my turn, it was nearly sundown and he started packing up his wares. I gesticulated wildly and pleaded with my eyes as I knows not the language he speaks. I gestured, as best as I could, that I am leaving on a plane tomorrow and God knows when our path will ever meet again.
He took a minute to gaze at my face with a lopsided grin. Then he unpacks his markers and started drawing. And when he handed me my caricature ten minutes later, I had to laugh.
He captured me just as I looked that day; floppy fringe, polka-dotted top and a weary smile.
Then again, I think he saw something behind this face I wear. For when a local friend help translate the katakana wordings he wrote, it reads:
“Rest assure that when in times of trouble, it is your destiny not to be alone.”
Perhaps amongst the restless souls in that wide open space in Harajuku Street, my caricaturist spotted the shadow cast by His wings.
No comments:
Post a Comment