Mystery of the hidden figures on St Paul mural

Dr Abe V Rotor

Mystery of the Hidden Figures on St Paul Mural. St Paul, a former Roman general, before he became saint, falls from his horse on Damascus Road, and heard a voice, "Saul, Saul why do you persecute me?" Mural painting the size of two plywood boards (8ft by 8 ft), 1995. 

This mural is the most popular of seven murals of the former St Paul University QC museum. It was removed (together with the other murals) from the museum after 15 years of controlled atmospheric condition and strict museum rules. In its present location the mural has shown signs of deterioration from sudden change in temperature and relative humidity, more so to damage by molds, insects and other vermin, including humans, force majeure notwithstanding.

But there is something mysterious appearing of the mural since it was transferred from its original home.

I was surprised at what I saw recently. I took photos of the mural which revealed the details which I did not intend to include when I painted it in 1994. What are these figures? Have they been there before incipiently, and that it is only now that they are being noticeably expressed? What have the damp air and fungi to do with the figures? Or dirt and uncontrolled lighting? And hands touching the unguarded murals?

I prayed hard on my knees before the sacred icon:

I am deeply sorry for abandoning you after fifteen years of companionship at the museum.
I know you understand, I am now very old, I cannot take care of you anymore.
I can no longer climb the scaffolding to wipe off the dust and grime, and let Heaven always shine. 
I have lost the fine art of painting, my sight cannot put back your colors and holy expression.
I can only visit you once in a while - until I am gone; just don't die in the cold, on another Damascus Road - unknown, forgotten. 

Could this be the Blessed Virgin Mary and St Paul (right) talking. The mother of Christ must be indeed very thankful to Paul who died for the sake of her Son and His church. 
It's a colored man's profile found at the upper left corner of the mural. Isn't God the Father often represented as a colored person? (Examples: the movies Evan, the Almighty, and God). Note the rays of light emanating from the corner,creating a mysterious veil; it is the breathe of life that made man the image of God's likeness. 
Red heart. I never saw it before as red as it is now - 15 years after. I painted St Paul's heart, red all right, radiating from an inner source. It has lost that radiance, I can feel the pain in his heart. 
This is another version of the Blessed Mother: she is holding baby Jesus tenderly on her breast - indeed a symbol of sacredness in mother-child relationship, and unity of the family. 
 
It's a dove. White dove. But how far, how faint! How difficult it is to realize. It is peace. Peace is the primordial message of God on earth.


Closeup. The paint I used is acrylic. I used marine plywood, twice thicker than the standard. Although I coated it with latex primer, the wood absorbs moisture from high humidity especially during the rainy season. The paint is starting to crack and scale off due to shrinking and expansion caused by alternate hot and cold, dampness and sudden gusts of wind.

Let me continue to pray to you, dear St Paul, in my simple and humble way.

I did not create your image; an unseen hand just guided the paintbrush and colors in my hand,
and guided me to paint other murals as well, which I never attempted before.

I was visited by a kindly nun while I was up on the scaffolding painting in an unholy hour; I came to know there were others who died on the campus during the war; I lived among their spirits.

I am blessed. I was never afraid. I saw them at the corner of my eyes passing, sitting.
On opening the museum I greeted them and bid them on leaving, how happy they were,
so I imagined. Three nuns kept the museum - when I wasn't around, and at night.

Pilgrims would come, prominent ones, infirmed, well-wishers. Why the museum was always alive! Workshops, stage play, poetry reading, poster making, temporary laboratory and classroom with construction work going on. It was refuge.

I did not create your image - I only tried to make a symbol of your martyrdom, and of your teachings. A self-taught painter I am, yet you trusted me, you chose me to be your disciple, to bring to you the sick and lonely, and you made them well; those facing the uncertainty of the future - examination, business, family - you made me to take them to you. And you rewarded them.

You trusted me as guardian to the young. Above everything, to trust myself of your trust.

I am deeply sorry for abandoning you after fifteen years of companionship at the museum.
I know you understand, I am now very old, I cannot take care of you anymore.
I can no longer climb the scaffolding to wipe off the dust and grime, and let Heaven always shine. 
I have lost the fine art of painting, my sight cannot put back your colors and holy expression.
I can only visit you once in a while - until I am gone; just don't die in the cold, on another Damascus Road - unknown, forgotten. ~