Childhood, Volcanoes and Narratives

Dr. Atl and his Volcano

Childhood Memory

Chapter I

The small studio held treasures, which in my childhood amazed and entertained my times of solitude. There was a painting that had before my eyes the dimensions of a mural.  The image captivated me: a calm and concentrated man in front of his easel painting the scene in front of him.  On his simple canvas he revealed the great volcano in scandalous eruption, spitting stones and incandescent lava that was already running down a slope and approaching the brave painter: my grandfather. 

Well, that's what my grandmother told us, story master and the one who accompanied our dream with her fantastic narratives.

I would sit in front of the painting and meditate on my grandfather's courage and wonder at what moment he would have started running so as not to be scorched to death by completing his work.

Grandma never declared that her husband had died of severe burns. I then assumed that he had managed to escape from the monstrous and threatening fury of the mountain.

Now I find out that the painter my grandfather "portrayed" was Dr. Atl, with whom he had a close friendship. Nothing changes for me. Grandfather was courageous.