Guernica. BORREGOOOOOOS ... BORREGOOOOOOOOOS ... shouted ... Upon noticing my presence, I said,
- Come child, come, you tell the true story of Guernica, which nobody wants to tell, which is silenced!
Astonished at such a proposition, leaned against me, hoping perhaps a great messianic revelation which was to change my conception of time and space, history, art, or even my sexuality. Or it all together.
- And what is it? I asked curious.
- Do you know that Picasso was Franco and in fact the Guernica was a denunciation of the atrocities committed by the Reds in the war? He asked as if nothing had happened.
- Lies Wereerdoshijoputasrojosseparatistas! He shouted.
One of the teachers, seeing my physical jeopardy, came running. Whole class and teachers had heard our short conversation and laughter were quite shocking. The teacher grabbed my arm and led me without giving me a chance to reply, along with other colleagues within the museum. BEEEEEEE .... BEEEEEEEE ... RED SHEEP .... Baa ... Beeeee .... (Someday compose a song with the psychedelic lyrics)
After an hour, we left all of the museum, and the type was still there. I leave with a gentle "bastard!". The most surprising thing is that after a week in the glamorous world famous Calle Montera, when went on the most luxurioushotel where we stayed (someday I will speak of such a distinguished place), that freak superlative passing by, saw me and without me saying anything he said with apparent calmness: "You're still a bastard." I went away and never seen again.
Now, over the years, I wonder what would happen if I were to find that great master. Can I call back you bastard? ...
Maybe it's a famous geek in Madrid ... Has anybody ever seen, pamphlets in hand, shouting at the Reina Sofía museum visitors? Will I live? If anyone knows anything, let me know please ...
The picture does not come to mind. But cool, yes or yes?
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