I'm in Spain and say "OK." I mean ... "OK." I do not say "ok" but "worth." Anyone. If my friend Juli hear me laugh more than when I heard about in portuñol. I think also a bit outraged because I think I want to do English, but not, I get naturally. I always stick regionalism.
On days like today, Madrid shit makes you cold.
Note: Mom, stay calm I went out with jacket and hat.
Today I went to the Museo de Arte Reina Sofía. I saw many works of Picasso and I realized that I love.
have a whole room where only Guernica, many spectators and two people all the time scrutinizing the public and shout "No photo!" No photo! ". I was curious and asked why no one could take pictures and djo me that people always forget to remove the flash and the work "has deterioriado considerably." That'sa.
My conflict with the painting resurfaced. Mind you, I know I get for post ignorant but I do not generate anything when I see a blank canvas with a black stripe. Let's see ... I know that is not "a blank canvas with a line black "is probably the distress of the painter by the infinite distance from the realization of utopias of oppressed peoples while the indifferent universe expands galaxies leaving in its wake, condensed into a black stripe. And maybe the type looked for hours canvas and had a profound introspective process, cut off his leg to his daughter, forced her to eat a woman celiac toasted ham and, in all their anger, guilt and anguish came to his shop and "bam!" gave the brushstroke.
Ponele. But I can not think that.
Still, eye, I realize I am ignorant and more, if I hear one that says something like "fuck, uncle, who could do that to me! "I packed for the guy. No, silly. No, brainy nuts, little, shit. You could not do even that. I do not say anything, eh, but I think some terrible things that long story.
The Miró Museum, everything was different. I had a guide, explained everything and all the lines on the canvas made sense.
That's good, I like it.
I'm freezing. Until later.
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