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The Face ...

I must confess... I fell in love with an unusual young lady whose face was like that of those rare beautiful women's lean marble-like, yet soft and inviting to kiss... It fit the oval head just right and proportionate like it could not fit anywhere else. Of course, her hair's exotic coiffure helped frame was just so, that one could never imagine it any other way. Except perhaps, if totally shaven, amplifying thus her sculpted nakedness and even more, a pure sexuality radiating an inviting type "welcome into my life" innuendo. And I was the lucky one she invited me into her arms to simply indulge the kind of exotics that our bodies could emanate. Exhausted, thereafter, we fell asleep. Nevertheless, something in me woke me up...

Indulging in the immediate memories, my eyes started to promenade along her body shape and stopped on her exotic face relaxed in sleep serenity. Somehow, that particular night seemed different from any previous experience I had. Was it the moonlight? The aromatic smell in the air emanating also from our bodies mixed with flowers around? I wanted to fall back to sleep but I was kind of restless... You know, like after a delicious happening under unexpected circumstances. Was I duped? Mesmerized? Drunk? Or, simply, physically and attracted without recourse?

The point is, that it was too late even to ask these questions... It happened beyond any expectation and I let myself led by her feline womanhood whimsical behavior. Yes, it turned out better than most of the previous experiences and I was content... No, actually happy, although I'm not used to be so! Okay, enough of these thoughts and go to sleep... I turned and tossed around but to no avail. I just could not fall asleep! So, I started to study her face reflecting the moon, or vice-versa. Her face's architecture seemed to be a master-painter's work who captured a hidden smile in her sleep. I wondered what could she be dreaming about? As I was promenading around the contours of her oval face, I started noticing certain minor twitches that seemed to be led by her face's lines slowly transforming its lean texture into one of small uneven mosaics-like wrinkles of a dry ancient look of an unearthed Goddess' forgotten statue. The uneven lines seemed to show where these old mosaic-like pieces were glued together only to reveal the visual tonality of a woman's beautiful mulatto face; was it European, Gypsy or an African one? It radiated a je ne sais quoi magnetic mystic conundrum that seemed to conquer the being of anyone looking fascinated for more than a minute. Wow...! Did the wrinkled lines move? Did the mosaic-like configuration change even minute positions? I looked at her head and body and she was in deep sleep unaware of her face's geographical changes. Was it the moon's magnetic influence like in so many folk stories? Or, it probably was my imagination captured by her extraordinary mysterious beauty? Did I noticed all this only after we made love? Does she know I'm staring at her in the moonlight?! And what of her face's strange behavior while she was sleeping... Shall I tell her?

I, so desperately, wanted to capture and photograph her face while she was sleeping... Ultimately, I decided not to make her aware because it might have changed the way things were appearing... So, I contemplated some more, and then again... and again... and I find myself still contemplating while journeying through Life...

Essays-Vol I
Editing: Ileana Matac Arco
Hollywood, California

Ray Arco    4/25/2018


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