CHASING THE MUSE
Arriving at my old village in the Dominican Republic, the search for Marta began immediately. First to a home where she once lived. No, she no longer was there. Then I tried the market - buzzing with flies on bloody meat and the noise of vendors screaming their prices to passing crowds. Then to the church. Off to neighbors' homes and back to the market. No, no, no. Marta could not be found!
As I walked, I recalled a decade past: Marta, the youngest of several girls, taken in by a matron who primped herself and the others for flirtatious walks along the seaboard. Marta stood in the wake of their sneers - the Cinderella left behind for the tough household chores. Yet she never complained. And so I snapped her picture as she hung clothes or mopped floors or - in quieter times - I sketched her reading the Bible, knowing that she was truly the special one in the house.
We took one last pass by the church and there we found her in bare feet scrubbing the creamy cement walls with an old, worn brush.
"DanYELL!" she squealed, as we laughed and hugged and laughed some more.
It was an animated reunion and I presented pictures I had created. Nine years had passed and only now was she learning that so many have enjoyed her beautiful face through my drawings.
We shared our lives and I took more photographs. "You don't change," she smiled. "You have your camera and you draw and draw and draw! I don't know why you draw so, but it is important to you and you need to do it!"
I use many beautiful friends as inspiration, yet Marta remains that very special muse.