A German shored up in the highlands
\nof Michoac\u00e1n, Enrique had embraced
\nhis Mexican name and Mexican life.
\nHe and his wife graciously hosted
\nme one week in Nineteen Eighty-One.
\nTeresa was curator of the regional
\nMuseo de artes e industrias populares.
\n<\/i>As for Enrique, he eked out a living
\nrestoring faded frescoes and decrepit
\ncanvases in dilapidated churches.
\nThere were many around, some
\ndating back to the sixteenth century.
\nMornings we rode across the high
\nsavanna in the back of pickups
\nalong with his kit of brushes, rags,
\npigments and vials of volatile fluids.
\nThen in the acrid shadows of a dusty
\nvault, transept or nave where motes
\ndanced calliope-like in slanting beams,
\nhimself a figure in chiaroscuro,
\nEnrique would labor to retrieve
\nthe haloed saints and wing\u00e8d angels
\nconscripted artists painted centuries\u00a0ago.
\nWhen the sun reached its zenith,\u00a0he’d
\nstop work wherever he was, assemble
\nand pack his disparate ad hoc gear.
\nWe would journey an hour or two back
\nto P\u00e1tzcuaro, whose lake\u2019s glossy surface
\nis where the membrane between life
\nand death is thinnest, gossamer so sheer
\nit may momentarily seem not there.
\nOnce home, he would shut the gate
\nto his compound, trade\u00a0his paint-splotched
\noveralls for the rough white cotton
\ncombination suit common in town,
\nindulge in a first pungent shot from
\nhis working jug of agave mezcal,
\nthen settle in for the rest of the day.
\nThis looked to me like an ideal life,
\nsucculent grounds for an ideal death.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
A German shored up in the highlands of Michoac\u00e1n, Enrique had embraced his Mexican name and Mexican life. He and his wife graciously hosted me one week in Nineteen Eighty-One. Teresa was curator of the regional Museo de artes e industrias populares. As for Enrique, he eked out a living restoring faded frescoes and decrepit … <\/p>\n