Barcelona is probably the most lisp friendly city in the world. What’s more, with it’s dark narrow streets bursting with life (so long as you head there at a civilised hour, like after 5) crazy Disney Land architecture and fiercely proud, seriously arty and cosmopolitan people it’s pretty visitor friendly too. The unhealthy rivalry between Madrid and Barcelona plays itself out in more places than the fútbol field. Unless you want to endure at least an hour of one-sided conversation in which you are permitted no input or respite, never ask a Madrileño what they think of Barcelona, and vice versa.
What I will say about Barcelona is this: there seems to be an actual commitment to contemporary art and design with an actual centre dedicated to the stuff – Museo de Arte Contemporáneo de Barcelona – right in the guts of the old town where I spent a tidy afternoon.
If you’d like to know more information about where some of these photos were taken, particularly some of the artwork, don’t hesitate to ask in the comments section!
A larger piece I’ve been working on for the past few weeks is leaning nonchalantly against a wall in my studio, just looking at me asking ‘am I finished? because I’m all like, sick of you working on me already. Yeah, that’s it, just lean me against the wall and think about it later.’ to which I respond: ‘oh my god, a talking painting!’
Artists are often saying that their paintings sort of reveal themselves, as if the paint they put down knows where to go. They also say things like, I wait for the painting to speak to me, and things just seem right. I know that feeling, but at the same time, really?? I don’t know. I’ll see what it says to me next week.