By Ed Crane
I found this tile painting I did in 2006 while living in the Canary Islands about five years before I knew about ABC. It got me 'dreamin' again......
Living in Portugal with a view of the Atlantic
squeezed between two canary-red buildings
where our wind-chimes annoyed the neighbour.
And she taught me how to say, ‘fuck off’ in Spanish.
Buying deep red peppers in all shapes and sizes with
impeccable taste on the corner minimart named after
Fred Flintstone’s pet. Crusty barras to smear with Olive’s virgins.
Dog walking on Las Canteras watching out for tourist police.
Better to meet the gang at five, and run with them on Catalina grass.
Maybe Linda the Argentinian will be there for our dog to lust over.
Three months out of Portugal we swapped for a harbour view
filling and emptying with floating hotels and an occasional Queen.
Chilling out in the morning under Burro’s Panza hiding bluer than blue.
Drinking in the atmosphere of Catalina waterfront washed down
with ice-cold Tropical. Pity about the noise from the Guaguas.
A move to quieter city garden streets where wayward Monarchs
flutterby dragons in Cuidad Jardin parks (never to see Mexico).
Down in the market buying corn yellow chicken flesh
and tender Cabrita to make the best Irish stew in the World.
Dropping off at the Dutchman’s on the way home for a couple
of not-so-small shots of Arucas. Enjoying a mellow afternoon
cooking for two while she’s at work checking out taxes.
Taking time out to paint blood-red hibiscus blooms and Valencia
oranges to hang on the kitchen wall beside aubergines and sleepy cherries.
So many sad goodbyes at Grand Canaria airport and so many
hugged hellos in Arrecife, where Technicolour volcanos welcomed
us with open – black and jagged – arms and local walled in wines.