By Verónica Virasoro Saturdays are strange. I wake up with the feeling of possibility. You can rest or work, clean and organize the house, or you can listen to music, read. Going to the park, playing, cooking, shopping… for several Saturdays I chose to paint. Now whatever day it is, when I start painting it is Saturday. It all started with Margarita and Mariana. We had actually planned to go out into the countryside for two days. We were going to go out on Friday, the three of us with Manuel and Gregorio, the little ones, but it rained so much that we couldn’t go. Instead we met on Saturday in the workshop that I share with Mariana.

It was magic. My partner of 10 years and my current partner. Next to them I became a painter; They have known me since I painted white fingers on a black background. I asked you girls, what do I paint? I don’t remember if they answered me anything but we all got to work. Mariana tidied up her workshop too. I think his students came and he taught. He took photos of us. Saturdays became painting. One week it was birds from a National Geographic. Another week yellow brush strokes went from one painting to another. A grain of corn or an egg, like a treasure. The next the beach emerged from that yellow. Another came those beings that look at each other with so many looks that no one’s eyes fit. A happy person, wrapped up and ready to go. Sometimes everything brings me back to love. A woman also came, taken from a photo that arrived via WhatsApp. The palm tree was a stick of water from an Almagro pizzeria, the Quilmes brand refrigerator was left out of the painting, a star appeared. Love again. Muddy. Flowers. The beach. A treasure. A package. Birds. More glances, and the swimmer came one day to dive; to try to decipher… He still couldn’t reveal the mystery. Just like me, in front of my canvases I continue to be a spectator of an unknown magic like when I painted the first painting.