Pentimento
Pentimento
by Ramsés Dávila-Luna at The Writer’s Cavern
In a ballet of easels, Francesco Fellini took swigs of Château Margaux. Canvas watched the painter rave as he prepared his palette to create in fits of rage - techniques and outlooks that masked his true value but heightened his name.
“Pain must be in the sketch, or else it’s nonsense!” Fellini told Fourth Estate.
Brushes dipped into blues and whites to form skies in the abstract. Strokes thickened to yellows and thinned for the umbers. Impasto was etched to convey his torment and complement the essence's chroma. From a distance, the expanse felt like his picture-perfect. He was the only set of eyes that could fly into the source without en plein air, and the rest would see it as obtrusive.
“There’s nothing normal about me. I am complicated because they need reactionary,” Francesco mapped out to the aspiring.
Domaine Leroy uncorked and spilled on a leopard divan. Francesco Fellini slipped into sloppiness as he stared at his obra. In the bottle’s reflection, he retouched his face until it became something unsightly. Beggars for thought and buyers of flair would flock into the studio the next day to pick his brain and find its purpose.
“The true artist controls what’s on the page and stays close to the blood,” Fellini recited what his father used to say.
The boozer was priced like Charles Shaw and ruined his moments.
Silenced cellie in the blackout caused the misses and son to rush in.
Young life squeezed the tubes and knocked braces to the floor.
To wake Fellini from a slumber amongst the strainers that kept his gilded dust.
Crayons were now the pastels that muted.
Innocent life marked the frescoes with tiny footsteps and scribbled contours.
As the reason to no longer wine finally poured in.
Works scattered with doodles were gestures for titles.
Exhibition now called The Son’s Nest for the Father.
To the packed house at the atelier who clamored for his feel, Francesco Fellini chose the sun to turn them all away with two cents:
“I’ve been broken for far too long, and it’s time to let my paint heal.”
Copyright © 2026 The Writer's Cavern by Ramsés Dávila-Luna at The Writer’s Cavern LLC. All rights reserved.