#art, Don’t Want to Lose My Head for Art…

(Photo by and property of Francisco Bravo Cabrera/All Rights Reserved)

Francisco is conversing with Bodo Vespaciano…

You want to talk about art?

No, I want to ask questions…

The more we talk about art, the more the questions…

Why are there so many questions? Is it because people want to know what art is? So tell me…

There is abstract art. And now you will ask what is abstract art? There is figurative art. And you’ll ask what is figurative art?

What the feck is art? Come on man, you know what it is…

Is there a message in your art? Are your paintings a language?

Hell no! No message at all! Who the hell would want to send a message!

My paintings are to be pleasing to the eye.

And mine are a complete mystery, to me…

(All photographs by and property of Francisco Bravo Cabrera/All Rights Reserved/C.2025)

CHEERS

#poem, Sulphur Breath and Nicotine…

(Photo by and property of Francisco Bravo Cabrera/All Rights Reserved)

SULPHUR BREATH AND NICOTINE

Sulphur breath and nicotine

No more water, no more beer,

The snake you wrap around your neck

Has kissed you,

Two times,

One kiss per cheek,

A little growl

And you grab your keychain from the rain clouds

That blew past

Like scoundrels on dark alleys

And junkies that crowd your living room

Shooting candy canes

And listening to Buck Owens

You grow hair on your back

And why does whiskey come out of your bathroom sink

When you asked for vodka?

And Ringo knew a man who sailed the seas,

And Mick went down on a Black chick,

Brown sugar’s always sweet,

Like monkeys on gorillas

So don’t believe it when you see it

Your eyes are filled with marmalade

And your skin is stained with the toxic fumes

Of that man’s cigar

The one that’s stomping on an insect

Crawling on the kitchen walls

And the band is raging in the street

Next to your auntie’s little brothel

Where lives your brother

And we are the brotherhood of man,

No?

No!

There’s no space you gullible sardine!

We’re all alone,

If you don’t believe me, ask the little girls from Sweden

Locked in your pop’s garage,

They saw a Hollywood movie

And a tour took them to the basement where the

Men landed on the moon before

Sipping on a Cola Light

And smoking Camel cigarettes without filters

Because the filters were stained with your moma’s lipstick

Red

Because you’re tired of soft porn,

Soft soat,

Soft cushiony seat on the station wagon

Rescued from the memories of well dressed couples

Seeking admission to the cleanest toilet that a roadside

Gas station can provide.

I fill my lungs with air to scream your name

But you’re so deaf…so still…remain,

But the sulphur rises from the tears and holes on your

Halston jacket

While you still savour the flavours of 1974

Thinking it’s still around that dark corner where a

Paranoid orang-utan dances wildly to a tune by

James Brown

While Obama looks through the trash bin he managed to save

From the next one to occupy the house

And he finds a watermelon seed

And considers his next good deed…

And we all ran

Because it looks like rain

And when it rains

It all remains the same.

I mean, John said it man,

Got to be true…

C.2025 – Bodo Vespaciano – 25 AUG 2025 –

#art, Greats of Art History: Dora Maar…

(A self-portrait of Dora Maar from 1935. Photograph: Dora Maar Estate / Courtesy of Amar Gallery)

The only thing I can say is that she is one of my favourite artists and personalities of the art world…

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CHEERS

#art, Featuring the «Forgotten» Surrealist, Artist Kay Sage…

(Kay Sage/1922/Public Domain/Wikimedia Commons)

Of course, for the Surrealists it was easy to forget a woman since they were all macho, macho men… So, here is what I have found out about Kay Sage, one that was never taught to me at uni either…

Kay Sage, Albany, New York, (1898–1963), North American Surrealist painter and poet. She is known for her haunting, architectural dreamscapes. Sage studied art in Rome in the 1920s, later moving to Paris where she became associated with the Surrealist movement. In 1940, she married fellow Surrealist Yves Tanguy, and the couple relocated to the United States during World War II.

Sage’s mature works are characterized by vast, desolate landscapes filled with scaffold-like structures, draped forms, and monumental architectural elements that convey themes of isolation, waiting, and melancholy. Unlike the biomorphic imagery of many Surrealists, her style leaned toward the geometric and architectural.

After Tanguy’s sudden death in 1955, Sage’s work became even darker, marked by a profound sense of grief and emptiness. Struggling with depression and declining eyesight, she took her own life in 1963.

Since, of course, she was usually overshadowed by her male contemporaries, she is now recognized as one of the most important women of Surrealism.

+++

(«I Saw Three Cities»/1944/Image source: Wikiart)
(«Small Portrait!/1950/Image source: Wikiart)
(«No Passing»/1954/Image source: Wikiart)

CHEERS

#poem, Sulphur Breath and Nicotine…

(Photo by and property of Francisco Bravo Cabrera/All Rights Reserved)

SULPHUR BREATH AND NICOTINE

Sulphur breath and nicotine

No more water, no more beer,

The snake you wrap around your neck

Has kissed you,

Two times,

One kiss per cheek,

A little growl

And you grab your keychain from the rain clouds

That blew past

Like scoundrels on dark alleys

And junkies that crowd your living room

Shooting candy canes

And listening to Buck Owens

You grow hair on your back

And why does whiskey come out of your bathroom sink

When you asked for vodka?

And Ringo knew a man who sailed the seas,

And Mick went down on a Black chick,

Brown sugar’s always sweet,

Like monkeys on gorillas

So don’t believe it when you see it

Your eyes are filled with marmalade

And your skin is stained with the toxic fumes

Of that man’s cigar

The one that’s stomping on an insect

Crawling on the kitchen walls

And the band is raging in the street

Next to your auntie’s little brothel

Where lives your brother

And we are the brotherhood of man,

No?

No!

There’s no space you gullible sardine!

We’re all alone,

If you don’t believe me, ask the little girls from Sweden

Locked in your pop’s garage,

They saw a Hollywood movie

And a tour took them to the basement where the

Men landed on the moon before

Sipping on a Cola Light

And smoking Camel cigarettes without filters

Because the filters were stained with your moma’s lipstick

Red

Because you’re tired of soft porn,

Soft soat,

Soft cushiony seat on the station wagon

Rescued from the memories of well dressed couples

Seeking admission to the cleanest toilet that a roadside

Gas station can provide.

I fill my lungs with air to scream your name

But you’re so deaf…so still…remain,

But the sulphur rises from the tears and holes on your

Halston jacket

While you still savour the flavours of 1974

Thinking it’s still around that dark corner where a

Paranoid orang-utan dances wildly to a tune by

James Brown

While Obama looks through the trash bin he managed to save

From the next one to occupy the house

And he finds a watermelon seed

And considers his next good deed…

And we all ran

Because it looks like rain

And when it rains

It all remains the same.

I mean, John said it man,

Got to be true…

C.2025 – Bodo Vespaciano – 25 AUG 2025 –

#music, And the colored girls goDoo, do-doo, do-doo, do-do-doo… On the Wild Side…

(Image source: El Mundo)

Lou Reed… Transformer… 1972, the decade of the maturity and the greatness of rock music. Music like we have never heard after. Well, I like the 80’s too and the 90’s up to the day that Duran Duran released «Ordinary World«, the last great song by a rock/pop group… So Lou Reed died in 2013… He was born in one of my fave cities of the US, Brooklyn in 1942. He was the leader of the Velvet Underground… So what… He was like the original Hot Rat dude, a monster like some called him. But this song kicks bloody arse… «Take a Walk on the Wild Side«. How many dare?

CHEERS

#art, Don’t Want to Lose My Head for Art…

(Photo by and property of Francisco Bravo Cabrera/All Rights Reserved)

Francisco is conversing with Bodo Vespaciano…

You want to talk about art?

No, I want to ask questions…

The more we talk about art, the more the questions…

Why are there so many questions? Is it because people want to know what art is? So tell me…

There is abstract art. And now you will ask what is abstract art? There is figurative art. And you’ll ask what is figurative art?

What the feck is art? Come on man, you know what it is…

Is there a message in your art? Are your paintings a language?

Hell no! No message at all! Who the hell would want to send a message!

My paintings are to be pleasing to the eye.

And mine are a complete mystery, to me…

(All photographs by and property of Francisco Bravo Cabrera/All Rights Reserved/C.2025)

CHEERS

Quote of the Day…

(Photo by and property of Francisco Bravo Cabrera/All Rights Reserved)

“Some people want to understand and decipher everything about nature, but for me, I prefer to leave it an absolute mystery.”

#art, Featuring the «Forgotten» Surrealist, Artist Kay Sage…

(Kay Sage/1922/Public Domain/Wikimedia Commons)

Of course, for the Surrealists it was easy to forget a woman since they were all macho, macho men… So, here is what I have found out about Kay Sage, one that was never taught to me at uni either…

Kay Sage, Albany, New York, (1898–1963), North American Surrealist painter and poet. She is known for her haunting, architectural dreamscapes. Sage studied art in Rome in the 1920s, later moving to Paris where she became associated with the Surrealist movement. In 1940, she married fellow Surrealist Yves Tanguy, and the couple relocated to the United States during World War II.

Sage’s mature works are characterized by vast, desolate landscapes filled with scaffold-like structures, draped forms, and monumental architectural elements that convey themes of isolation, waiting, and melancholy. Unlike the biomorphic imagery of many Surrealists, her style leaned toward the geometric and architectural.

After Tanguy’s sudden death in 1955, Sage’s work became even darker, marked by a profound sense of grief and emptiness. Struggling with depression and declining eyesight, she took her own life in 1963.

Since, of course, she was usually overshadowed by her male contemporaries, she is now recognized as one of the most important women of Surrealism.

+++

(«I Saw Three Cities»/1944/Image source: Wikiart)
(«Small Portrait!/1950/Image source: Wikiart)
(«No Passing»/1954/Image source: Wikiart)

CHEERS

#opinion, Dear Diary, Page 61 – Querido diario, P.# 61

(«Magical Mystical World»/Francisco Bravo Cabrera/All Rights Reserved)

SO WHAT IS THIS ALL ABOUT, DEAR DIARY, THAT I HAVE BEEN HEARING? CAN IT BE TRUE…

Well, I have been hearing a lot about the so-called simulation hypothesis—the idea that our reality might be an advanced computer simulation—has been taken seriously by many important people like philosophers, e.g. Nick Bostrom* and even technologists like Elon Musk.

Well, they say that if a civilization lasts long enough and develops advanced computer power, they will be able to simulate entire universes. Hmm… And that they will do many simulations, so many that at one point they would totally outnumber the «base reality.»

But… where’s the bloody proof? I mean, dear diary, I love to imagine these things and philosophise about them, but are they truly real? Physics does have some weird hints like quantization at Planck scales, limits to information, the strangeness of quantum mechanics), but nothing conclusive and certainly nothing that a non-geek can understand.

Then there is also so much talk (even in good films) about the multiverse. Dear fecking diary, is that real? I mean it is just as phenomenal as the simulation hypothesis, but completely different and I think I can subscribe to something like this. And the multiverse has been «proven» by physicists and cosmologists. I mean the quantum multiverse where it is known and proven that particles can exist in multiple states and in multiple places simultaneously. Why cannot we?

And dear diary, you know that I do not believe in limitations and I do not believe that we have to prove something in a laboratory. It is great if we can, but I don’t believe we (I) need that to believe that something is real or not. So even thought the multiverse is something not empirically verified, I think it is real.

Dear diary, another popular topic that interests me a lot is the Mandela Effect, but I think I will leave that for another day…


CHEERS