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

 

The Coca Cola can

‘I never asked myself what freedom meant until the day I hugged Stalin.’

This is how Lea Ypi's magnificent book begins.

The first thing I thought was that the author was really hugging, physically and in the flesh, the Soviet dictator, when in reality she was hugging a statue of the man made of steel.

The first part of the book, its 150 pages with which the story starts, describes the life of a family and a girl, Leushka, in the death throes of the communist regime in Albania.

A bright eleven-year-old girl that didn't understand why the statues of Stalin and Uncle Enver were being torn down. But the most painful thing for the protagonist is that, with the monuments, secrets and lies also fall; words are put to the silences and the whispers gain volume until they become clearly audible in the living room of the house... And she begins to distrust her family.

By the way, the fifth chapter describes a situation that I would say has a mix of surreal with a slight touch of magical realism that I leave to the reader's free interpretation. The spotlight goes to a disputed can of Coca Cola.

From my Borstal

LDR

Lea Ypi.- Free. Coming of Age at the End of History. Allen Lane. London 2021

 

 

Dicebant mihi sodales, si sepulchrum amicae visitarem, curas meas aliquantulum fore levatas

 

A feeling, for which I have no name, has taken possession of my mind…