an afternoon with alfie

Today I went to el monumento de rey alfonso XII. It is located inside the beautiful parque de retiro, which means the park of relaxation. This is precisely the correct name for such a meditative place. I have never felt such reverence by being in the presence of anything man made before. Not ever. The feeling of spirituality that had overcome me this afternoon is a feeling I have only felt when stricken with all the glory of nature. However, observing the sheer elegance and artistic beauty of the monument left me in such a trance that only my soul was present to sense the outside world. The location of the monument was once where a palace the rey y riena de espana lived. It fell a long time ago. Rey Alfonso was the last king before the second republic took power of espana and forced him to leave, leading to the civil war and the rise of Franco. That aside, the monument was one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen. It sits in front of a gigantic man made lake/pond. The length is 200 yards tall and the width is 500 yards wide. Boats are available to rent and paddle around the monument. The monument itself is a large platform which has stairs in the front leading down to the water and four lions on the waters edge, which I imagine to be protectors of the king. On the outer edges of the platform, two large walls stand. They are reminiscent of the roman coliseums with giant pillars and decorated at the top with cherubs. In the center of the platform stands a giant vertical statue, I’m guessing 100 ft tall, with Rey Alfonso sitting on his horse. The four sides of the vertical statue each contained a smaller sculpture that the monuments creator had asked other respectable artists to create. One sculpture is the reason for me plummeting into such reverence at the holy site. It contains five characters. The center character is naked man who looks famished and his ribs show dominant through his skin. Behind him is an angel pulling his body up to heaven. His face looks pristine, as I imagine anyone who is looking upon the face of god would look. As though all pain and worry and strife had instantly been removed from his head and his heart. The angels face is look of compassion like the task was redundant but rewarding each and every time. To his left, a friend of the man with strong muscles and a splendid figure appears to be left behind on earth, and is allowing his friend to lean on him for strengthen, as though he was helping him stand, helping him ascend to his final glory, helping him through the struggles of life. Lying at the feet of the ascending man is a miserable looking human. His face, looking up at the rising man, is discontent and sour as though he was enraged with despair. Lying at his feet are shackles though he nor the ascending man nor the strong friend appear to have ever been locked into their clutches. The final figure I can not figure out. He appears to be a priest holding a bible, but his expression perplexes me. At first I thought he was simply raising his hand to say goodbye to a soul he may have helped but his eyes appear empty and his mouth is far too frowned. Perhaps he is jealous, perhaps he is distracted, no not distracted. He may be pondering when his time for heavenly assent will come. I just do know. I can’t place his look.
So, after pondering this monument I walked down the stairs that lead to the water, sat and wrote in my journal and then smoked a cigarette. A couple rowed near me in a boat and stopped to look at the king’s monument. The woman leaned her head back and the soft breeze swung her hair up, faintly exposing her ears, and she closed her eyes and the look on her face was like the look of the man ascending to heaven. She was perfectly content. Perfectly blissful. It was beautiful and I knew exactly how she felt.

jake.