Laura and Coca Cola
It was the dogs´ fault for having met Mrs
Brenda. Or rather the fault, in truth, was an inopportune oversight on the part
of Mrs Brenda.
She had taken her pets for a walk as
usually does every day, only on this occasion and after spending a few minutes
recreating herself in the wonderful landscape offered by the waterfall on the
outskirts of the town, she forgot the dogs leash. I -like you- keep wondering
how the hell she could leave both leashes behind if that is what she is been
doing since she arrived in town four years ago. Isn´t it a gesture that becomes
automated by repeating it regularly?
The path that goes down to the Salado
stream is a delight at this time of year. The first drops of water have fallen
and the environment smells of freshly washed fennel and wet soil.
At the end of September and beginning of
October, the grouping of many speccies of birds that are going to cross the
Strait looking to spend the Winter in Africa takes place in the Iberian Península
and mainly in the south; it is the right time to observe incredible flock of
Sand Martin like the ones I saw while arriving at an abandoned quarry about two
or three kilometers from Pruna.
There was also an elegant black wheatear
nearby, which was entertained by the aerial show of its neighbors since its
task as a male committed to raising its offspring had concluded and it no
longer needed to carry more stones to its nest.
And there, she was without taking her
reyes off me.
It was a beautiful short-toed Eagle that
took advantage of the rise of hot air that collided with the rock wall and
produced a chimney effect. It was flying over my head at about fifty meters and
I was able to identify it without any problema because this lady spent a few
minutes hovering in circles with centric points without apparent effort. What a
joy to behold?
The other lady had forgotten the leashes…
And I wanted to sit for a while on one of the benches at the Cascade viewpoint
and there I found what you already know. A few days later Mrs Brenda knocked on
my door asking if I had anything that was hers.
That´s how we met.
Y. a.
Mary
Dis Manibus Sacrum
Dear Fran,
I just arrived from the Carmona Necropolis.
I have been taking some photos of those tombs where they allow you to enter, because I have in mind to make a series of paintings related to this archaeological site. At the end of the tour I also stopped at its small museum since I want to paint several still lifes with the objects that are exhibited there.
Intimacy in feminine
If you want to know me
completely, you have to know my garden, because my garden is my heart.
Hermann von Pückler-Muskau
Dear Fran,
I met Francisca not very long ago.
knowing that she had an exhibition planned,
I appeared at the Faculty of Fine Arts in Seville on the appointed day.
I have to clarify that on the afternoon of
the inauguration I was not able to fully enjoy her paintings; the number of
people in the room was such that I could not stand at the distance needed to
contemplate the images, especially the largest works.
But even so, the first thing my eyes saw
reminded me of some paintings I saw a few years ago in a book that our painting
teacher brought to class. Those images had, I don't know how to express it, a
subtle touch of Luc Tuymans. And I know I haven't been the only one who has
noticed it.
Secondly, the artist's paintings
transported me, I don't know why, to the American
Dream, to the movies of the 60s: families with their two-story houses, with
a garden, swimming pool, lawnmower and two cars in the garage. Husband who goes
to work in the city center and wife who stays doing ‘tasks typical of her sex’,
that is, cooking and taking care of the children.
And here Francisca's paintings delve into
the intimacy of these women to provide them with a way out of that golden
loneliness. It may seem silly, but one of the pieces reminded me of Mia Farrow!
Dear Fran, of all the inaugurations I have
attended – some more glamorous, others less – this has been the one that has
touched me the most. Neither short nor long, neither exultant nor bland.
Intimacy in the feminine is an
enriching experiment that we should experience more frequently. As was said in
the presentation, we should never confuse intimacy with identity, much less
with sexuality. The intimate, fortunately, embraces sexuality and identity and
makes us look inside ourselves, towards who we are.
A sincere, clean, delicate work.
Y. a.
Mary
Weekend in Pruna
What I like most about this small house is
its solarium and spending the night here for two days is the best gift they
could give me.
Godoy and his wife come here on vacation,
on weekens and when caring for their Little grandson allows.
The solarium (there are truly many hours
in which the sun is present) occupies the space that was previously the hayloft
and it´s amazing to be reading or writing, as I´m doing now, to look up and
watch a couple of vultures hover in circles above my head.
This time they wanted to go to the Algarve
and they offered me the possibility of spending a few days in the town.
Invitation that I had declined the previous times: it´s a shame that the house
is closed so you can enyoy it, they convinced me.
Yesterday, Saturday, I was wlaking with
binoculars along the Cascade path that leads to a stream that was loaded with wáter
from the mountains.
Dear Fran, you can get an idea of plants,
flowers and birds, always birds, that I could find: the blonde wheatear, the
Bonelli´s eagle, the acentor and countless trills among which I could recognize
the oriole and the nightingale, just by name the ones I hadn´t seen or head in
the longest time.
Y. a.
Mary
Chaos
and ether
Dear Fran,
If you pass near Morón de la Frontera you
should stop along the way and visit the exhibition of two young artists who
show their works at the Espacio Santa Clara.
One of them is Daniel Sánchez Palomo. He presents
paintings where the human body is the main protagonist and that the author
places in the center of classic constructions, such as ancient churches or
mysterious enclosures. Using blue, he offers us a vision of the characters that
blur in a mystical space. This artist has a perfect command of drawing women
and men.
I´ve been following Diego Lozano since I
started painting and I´ve met him at several inaugurations. Affable boy who
offers intimate contemplation of birds in the room. It was a refreshing
surprise to see how he has captured the difficult world of birds in a few
successful brushstrokes. These paintings range from those where the animal is
perfectly recognized to others that border on the abstract and only an eye
accustomed to observing nature can decipher.
You will have already understood that, due
to my love of birds and my effort to learn to paint, Diego's selection of works
attracted me irresistibly and for a long time.
It´s a style of painting that I´d like to
get closer to, but I´m afraid that will be very difficult.
Fran, I'm sending you some photos so you
can enjoy and encourage yourself to enter this space. It remains open until
April 28.
Y. a.
Mary
That other pain
This country welcomed me with open arms
many years ago when I had to flee the land where I was born and raised.
That is why what we are experiencing in
recent times hurts me. After forty years in Spain I think I have some right to express
my feelings.
All the people I have interacted with
since I arrived here, the señora I served until recently, the friendships I
have forged, Juani, the woman at the grocer´s, my painting teacher, my
colleagues... They have made me feel that I had my new home here, that I was
one more, that I could count on them; however, I am perplexed by the evolution
that society in general and politics in particular are having.
Dear Fran, I ask you: How can an
Autonomous President publicly call the president of the government a son of a
bitch and quedarse tan pancha? But the worst of all are those who laugh at
the insult and applaud her. How can a bully brothel bouncer become an advisor
and trusted man of an entire minister? How can the Catalan issue be dealt with
by deceiving citizens again and again? Why keep giving examples.
In this corner of the world they don't know what they have and they run
the risk of losing everything.
Y. a.
Mary
Do
not cry
The second part, the
disappointment.
All the hope that Albanians had
with the arrival of the new system was blown up overnight.
In exchange for a can of Coca Cola
and avoiding lines to get food, corruption and deceit, scam and fraud were
established in Albania. Young Lea saw with her own eyes that what the people
had dreamed of, that what her parents expected had been a chimera. Thousands of
families were ruined when a form of savings spread throughout Tirana and other
cities that was in reality a hidden theft that was only discovered — as is
usually the case — when this activity collapsed. An economic scheme that
everyone knows and in which, however, many continue to believe.
Democracy also brought to Leushka's
world the terrible and unjust Structural
Reforms, in capital letters, the loss of jobs and the bankruptcy of the
country; while she had her own torments…
My teenage
years were, for the most part, unblessed, something that was made even worse
whenever my family insisted on convincing me that I had no reason to feel that
way.
(It is clear that a teenager is not
helped, on the contrary, his feeling is reinforced by telling him that he has
no reason to feel bad.)
Tears came to my eyes when I read,
in this chapter, Lea's volunteering at the orphanage and the life of little
Ilir.
A great book.
From my Borstal
LDR
Lea Ypi.- Free. Coming of Age at the End of History. Allen Lane. London 2021
