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

To Gabriela, on our  45^Th 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…

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She is sixty-five
And she is magnificent
She plays with her grandchild
like a little girl
And smiles at her husband
with an intensity
that makes those watching them
look away, reddening

It feels just as grey as the grey rain
That the rain shall still be here
when I am gone
That the birds that cower in the trees
shall be here as well when I am gone
For each rain is the same rain
each bird the same bird
Building blocks of the perennial
“Rainy day with bird” tableau
And every observer is the same observer
as it watches the rain fall
from behind a pane of glass
There are endless iterations
of watchers, feathers and droplets
But merely a single flicker
of our particular soul
A miraculous self seeing the world
in a particular manner
Loving, hating other miracles
in a particular way
At the particular end
of a miraculous journey

Victor Alejandro Wainer
Victoria, BC
August 30th,2025