Today we went to the Picasso museum. It was extraordinary. There were no photographs allowed, but fortunately the museum shop had most of the collection in the form of postcards. I was pleased to see such a comprehensive collection of his early work; from age 14-20 in particular.
After he went to Paris and lost his mind and became Picasso, well, it was like another painter. Another person. It was good to see and love the first one, the boy who trained formally. Of course I thought of Liam, and want to bring him. There isn’t anything like seeing the old sketches, the little paintings on wood, in person.
This was my favorite portrait from the blue period. There was no postcard, but I dug it up online. It is a portrait of Sebastia Junyent, whom I gather was one of his friends. The painting was mesmerizing; the canvas so fragile. I could not tell whether this was age, or deliberate, and mean to find out.
We walked, and talked, and saw Roman ruins and street art and fabulous shops and ate beautiful tapas and drank cava and let the blinding sun blind us.
Doriot took a freaky and genius photograph.
Here she is taking it.
And here it is:
photo Doriot Lair .