Behind every image there is a story, there is a space, there is a time, there is a life, that we probably do not know. Even when we know the person or the place that inspired it. Whoever takes a photograph or paints a picture puts into it his experiences, his mood of the moment, the circumstances that lead him to that image, as every creator does.

My painting “The rocking Mona Lisa”, which the young viewers liked so much, was inspired by Eva. They called her La Mona Lisa, she was introduced to me by José, one of my friends from the Café “Buenos momentos”, with whom I used to meet every Friday to listen to live music, usually rock. Sometimes covers, sometimes original songs, we shared that fury that rock awakens in the soul, that accelerates your heart rate a little.

Eva didn't live in town, but she came to sing with her band in the summer. I didn't know her because I had just moved in a few weeks ago. That Friday when I saw her for the first time, besides her tanned skin and her good body, her tight blue jeans and leather top, her curly brown hair tied back, I was struck by her look; she seemed to be smiling, she was watching everything with attention, but she didn't make a fuss, she was doing her own thing, not talking much, checking that everything was in order. When I asked about her, José answered me: ꟷIt's the Mona Lisa, she's coming to play in the summer. Do you like her, do you want me to introduce her to you? ꟷNo, I'm just curious, I answered.

José introduced her to me at intermission. Mona Lisa, come I want to introduce you to a new parishioner. This is Leonardo, a painter who just moved to town, but he's not a brush painter, he's one of the others, the ones who paint on canvas. ꟷHello Leonardo, I hope you like the music of my band. If you're around here on Fridays it's because you like rock. ꟷYes, I liked it. Shall we buy you a cold beer, Eva? ꟷOkay, thanks. That's when I heard her name and regretted not being the one to buy her a drink.

During the following weeks I anxiously awaited the arrival of Friday to see and hear Mona Lisa. When she took the microphone she transformed herself into the goddess of the band, into the rocking Mona Lisa, full of energy, with a force that dragged us all along, making us vibrate loudly. When she let go of the microphone, she went back to being the Mona Lisa, enigmatic, insightful, with little to say. We'd toast her a beer and she'd chat a bit with the group of loyal parishioners. How did I sing today?

Three weeks later she left, continuing her tour of the summer beach bars. And although I didn't think it could happen, I missed her. I had to wait for the following summer to see her again. When she came back I was happy to see her again, that good energy she brought with her wherever she went. Although it seemed to me that there was a shadow on her face, something that had her worried. I convinced José to follow her to the nearby town, where she would play when she left ours.

No matter how much you run away from it, destiny always catches up with you. Fate caught up with Eva. The second night she was supposed to sing did not come. A jealous lover she had in Madrid had come looking for her. She, of course, had to tell him no, that she was going to continue with her tour, that he should leave her alone. They argued violently and at some point the guy pushed her, her head hit hard against the edge of a wall and she fell lifeless. Then he left her there, without telling anyone. When the other members of the gang noticed that she did not come down they went to look for her and there they found her, with her eyes open, staring into eternity.

We don't know how much time we have left each morning. When I learned what had happened I felt a deep pain and had that sudden awareness of the fragility of life. I was speechless. I hugged José and began to cry. I would never see the Mona Lisa again, never, never hear her voice again. Memory would erase her features, her tattoos, her slight smile. A few days later I started the painting, “The rocking Mona Lisa”, in her homage. Although it may not seem so, it is the testimony of an irreparable absence, an emptiness that will accompany me for the rest of my days.

Original story of my authorship for the contest OBSERVA PIENSA ESCRIBE. In the following link you can see the contest rules if you want to participate https://peakd.com/hive-192096/@lanzjoseg/concurso-observe-think-write-58fbf4f3645ea I invite friends @germanandradeg @numa27 and @nanixxx to participate.