The Spirit of Cafe Reggio


      My dad took me to New York for the first time when I was 16.  We went to the Cafe Reggio in Greenwich Village and sat at one of the little tables there. He said, “Biqui, I want you to close your eyes and imagine this place filled with Bebop, Beatniks, and deep thinkers.  Their ghosts are here at these tables and if you sit in the places they once sat, you might just absorb the spirit of their creative genius.”

      Now, still dreaming of the artists who filled their canvases with fields of color and abstract form, who attacked their work with a full force of feeling, who felt the drum beat of everything around them, I hope to discover in this painted series just a bit of what might have rubbed off on me in the Cafe Reggio with Dad so long ago.



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