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My Christmas Dress

Christmas Dress, originally uploaded by loscuadernosdejulia.

As I’m writing this post, it is raining outside, and I’m elated that the winter season as we know it in the North West, with strong winds and endless rains, has finally started. I almost began to feel depressed when the sun was still dazzling at the end of October.

We know now that I love knitting, and this lovely dress is one of the latest creations. I’m not even going to care if I sound immodest because I love it myself. It’s cosy, funky, sexy, unique, and ended up being very stylish. It is designed by me and was inspired by the stripy tights I have that feature the same green, blue, and red colours.

That’s how far one can go when they have different colours of yarn at home.

I was having a lot of coffee meetings recently, and the other day I ended up at Costa Coffee in Market St in Manchester. This cafe is located in what used to be a bank or building society, is quite spacious, and this helps Costa successfully withstand competition from Caffe Nero that shares the wall with Costa, and from Starbucks that sits just across the road. They do love coffee in the U.K.

As my coffee mate and I were getting up to leave, a member of staff appeared next to me:

– Oh, I see, you’ve made this dress for Christmas, right? With a bit of green and red…

Well, if truth be told (which I have told at the beginning of this post), this was not designed as a Christmas dress. But there is certainly something about it. So, considering I can wear this dress pretty much any time of the year, except the hot summer days, I’ve created the precondition for having a special Movable Feast all to myself.

Everyone Wants to Understand Art

Pablo Picasso, A Girl with a Book
Everyone wants to understand art. Why don’t we try to understand the songs of a bird? Why do we love the night, the flowers, everything around us, without trying to understand them? But in the case of a painting, people think they have to understand. If only they realised above all that an artist works of necessity, that he himself is only an insignificant part of the world, and that no more importance should be attached to him than to plenty of other things that please us in the world, though we can’t explain them. People who try to explain pictures are usually barking up the wrong tree. 
 
People want to find a ‘meaning’ in everything and everyone. That’s the disease of our age, an age that is anything but practical but believes itself to be more practical than any other age. 
 
I object to the idea that there should be three or four thousand ways of interpreting my pictures. There ought to be no more than one, and within this interpretation it should be possible, to some extent, to see nature, which after all is nothing but a kind of struggle between my inner being and the outer world. 
 
Is there anything more dangerous that being understood? All the more so, as there is no such thing. You are always misunderstood. You think you aren’t lonely, but in actual fact you are even more lonely.

Pablo Picasso (1881-1973)

error: Sorry, no copying !!