The beginning of the end

The beginning of the end

A song/poem by Victor Alejandro Wainer. Composed in 2025, recorded in 2026 in Victoria, BC.

The beginning of the end

Which star is that? They shared their wonder with each other
It is so bright, breaking through the cloudy cover!
They stared in silence
Awed by its beauty
Without knowing they had seen
the beginning of the end

Look at the star, said the mother to the infant
How bright it is, clutching baby to her chest
She had a feeling
this was important
Without knowing she had seen
the beginning of the end

See that shiny star? He called out over his shoulder
Look how bright it is, said his friend coming to join him
They stared together
their games forgotten
Without knowing they had seen
the beginning of the end

That will be your star, said the wife to her sick husband
Much too bright for me, he replied with a soft chuckle
And he passed away
While she shut the curtains
Without knowing she had seen
the beginning of the end

The beginning of the end

A Bit of Light

A Bit of Light

A Bit of Light

Far beyond our humble home
Far away from you and me
Light has left a distant star
Without care for any of us
A bit of light
No future and no past
On its way to planet earth
One day that light
Will finally arrive
To this very piece of land
We’ll no longer be of this earth
Not even a memory
And it wouldn’t look for us
Never knew of you or me
A bit of light
Eternal light
We don’t really measure up
And yet for me
My love for you
‘tis the most colossal thing
In the grand scheme of things
We may really not be stars
In the context of our lives
We are all each other has
A bit of light
Shining in the night
That is what you are for me
If love is just
A passing light
There is eternity in that flash

Turpentine

Turpentine - Image: Oil on canvas, Gabriela Premat-Wainer 1995 h: 145cm x w: 135cm

(Image: Oil on canvas, Gabriela Premat-Wainer 1995
h: 145cm x w: 135cm)

To Gabriela, on our  45Th anniversary, with more love that it is reasonable to expect to fit inside a person.
Every single day I think I can’t love you more. That love takes space, and that I have my fill. And every morning I prove myself wrong, even if I do not know where I put it.
Alioscha
30 of May, 2026

A quick look around told me
that, once again,
I was lost.
Lost inside her work
as, every now and then, I would.
I locked onto a single line
– a strong, assertive black line
That drew all eyes to itself,
defining the entire canvas.

It wasn’t a way out
but it was a way in…

Continue reading

Sketch

sketch

This was the sketch, back when it all begun.
The basic concepts:
Vanishing point, parallels
vertical lines, diagonals
Our angles, all goodwill and disobedience
ready for a full day’s toil
with unreasonably good humour
A demanding, none-too well described job
performed in the best company
and fueled by the worst possible diet
We follow the sketch, changing and evolving
The main idea emerging from the chaos
increasingly defined, if somewhat tired
Growing simpler, more focused over time
– although baroque episodes still occur
every so often, without warning –
Then it all changes, the sketch is now a scene
Nevermore a page, but a stage
Two people holding hands
Their eyes fixed at some point behind the audience
Behind them in chronological order
you can see all the stages of the sketch
Their feet sinking in the hazy ground
– In close examination, not a fog
but microscopic copies
of their relationships and their worldly possessions –
In the background a new sketch appears
Opening as a new flower of the present

To Gabi, the hand always in mine,
Victoria, September 20th, 2025