Spanglish/Frespagnol
Hola chicos! Benvenido a a mi diario espanol. Ahora hablando mucho espanol turistico. Estoy muy contento. Si no se una palabra, uso una palabra frances, o ajuto 'O' al final. Es muy facile. Soy muy inteligente. Toda el mundo puedan hablar espanol, es verdad.
Los que puedan hablar espanol mas bueno que mi (si, es posible), no es permitio comentar aqui. Gracias. Pero yo se ella sera muy impresionada.
Los madrilenos saben definitivamente como vivir. Estoy muy cancado.
Good, huh? GOD, I'm clever.
I've been here two days but it feels like ages. Research trips always go like that, especially when someone else is organising for you. Today we visited a new gallery called Dos de Mayo, it's out of town, an architectural renovation gone badly wrong. I think the architects were drunk when they designed it, it's bonkers, and not in a good way. Unpleasant postmodernist mess. Later we went to the Reina Sofia, I haven't actually seen anything there yet as we just had a meeting with one of the curators. There is an architectural renovation that is completely inspiring. I loved it. But it makes me realise that art plus architecture equals total and utter megalomania. Other fields commission ambitious buildings, but art - with its need for good vistas, a variety of light conditions, and more open, undefined spaces than most - really makes architecture into this monstrous field.
Getting past the various security guards for the meeting was incredible. you'd have more trouble going to the fucking Gaza Strip. wankers. The guards had guns, bag scanners, databases, and needed photo ID - remember, they knew we were there on the invitation of the head curator - and as the UK doesn't do ID cards and I had left my passport at the flat, they hummed and haahed over it for a while until finally deciding that it would be acceptable for me to leave my passport number with them. Of course I totally made this up.
Then more artist meetings - haven't seen anyone totally inspiring yet, but obviously there is a good scene here.
And food. OMFG. I am going to burst. Little snackettes with every drink, gazpacho, paella, or emperadora fish with wine for lunch, tinto de verano and tapas - pork scratchings, paprika olives, delicious meats on bread, tiny, rich sausages, chorizo and potatoes. Our hosts left me and Sofie a humungous packet of Serrano ham in our fridge. *puts on M&S voice* not just any Serrano ham. This is the richest, most velvety, densest, choicest ham possible. And fuckloads of it. If I'm not the size of a house (or a small, badly renovated gallery building) by the time I return, I don't deserve to eat anything good ever again.
Los que puedan hablar espanol mas bueno que mi (si, es posible), no es permitio comentar aqui. Gracias. Pero yo se ella sera muy impresionada.
Los madrilenos saben definitivamente como vivir. Estoy muy cancado.
Good, huh? GOD, I'm clever.
I've been here two days but it feels like ages. Research trips always go like that, especially when someone else is organising for you. Today we visited a new gallery called Dos de Mayo, it's out of town, an architectural renovation gone badly wrong. I think the architects were drunk when they designed it, it's bonkers, and not in a good way. Unpleasant postmodernist mess. Later we went to the Reina Sofia, I haven't actually seen anything there yet as we just had a meeting with one of the curators. There is an architectural renovation that is completely inspiring. I loved it. But it makes me realise that art plus architecture equals total and utter megalomania. Other fields commission ambitious buildings, but art - with its need for good vistas, a variety of light conditions, and more open, undefined spaces than most - really makes architecture into this monstrous field.
Getting past the various security guards for the meeting was incredible. you'd have more trouble going to the fucking Gaza Strip. wankers. The guards had guns, bag scanners, databases, and needed photo ID - remember, they knew we were there on the invitation of the head curator - and as the UK doesn't do ID cards and I had left my passport at the flat, they hummed and haahed over it for a while until finally deciding that it would be acceptable for me to leave my passport number with them. Of course I totally made this up.
Then more artist meetings - haven't seen anyone totally inspiring yet, but obviously there is a good scene here.
And food. OMFG. I am going to burst. Little snackettes with every drink, gazpacho, paella, or emperadora fish with wine for lunch, tinto de verano and tapas - pork scratchings, paprika olives, delicious meats on bread, tiny, rich sausages, chorizo and potatoes. Our hosts left me and Sofie a humungous packet of Serrano ham in our fridge. *puts on M&S voice* not just any Serrano ham. This is the richest, most velvety, densest, choicest ham possible. And fuckloads of it. If I'm not the size of a house (or a small, badly renovated gallery building) by the time I return, I don't deserve to eat anything good ever again.