Had a very pleasant day yesterday and went out to Ladybower reservoir for lunch. It was all very nice really eating lunch and looking out over the water.
I have been wondering of late, yet again about whether or not we are alone? It is a staggering thought no matter which side you come down on really. Something the size of our universe and the thought that we are alone in it is simply staggering. If we are not alone that too is quite a thing to have to comprehend.
I was looking through some art works the other day and a few pieces by Salvador Dali caught my eye.
Now he was a nutter and I don’t just mean in his art work either. I think he suffered from what today we would call ADHD.
Born in 1904 he spent his early life trying his damnedest to really piss off his farther who was respectable lawyer. He would deliberately wet his bed till the age of eight and deposit shit all over the house.
He was to his parents a reincarnation of his dead brother who had died at the age of two, also called Salvador. A prodigiously gifted artist from an early age he managed to get himself thrown out of the art academy in Madrid for refusing to sit an oral exam explaining that he was infinitely more intelligent than the three professors who were examining him.
When his mother died his relationship with his farther declined even further till his farther finally physically threw him out of the house. He returned later and handed his farther a condom containing his own sperm saying “there, I owe you nothing”.
In 1929 he met Elena better known as Gala a violent Russian nymphomaniac who became his muse. She was married but this did not stop Dali setting his sights on her and after covering himself in a paste made of fish glue and cow dung he stuck an orange geranium behind his ear shaved his armpits and Gala fell for him. They remained together till she died in 1982. The relationship was never really consummated as Dali like Hans Christian Anderson was addicted to masturbation and tended to offer up the oversexed Gala to his friends.
His decent into his own self absorbed world was catalogued in many ways, he once sent a harp strung with barbed wire to Harpo Marx who in return sent a photograph of himself with bandaged fingers.
His last years were a tragedy, suffering from clinical depression and ravaged by Parkinson’s he took to his bed after Gala died.
Eventually he stopped talking, eating and drinking and died of heart failure at the age of 84.
Freud once called Dali a fanatic, which in psychological terms means someone who over compensates a secret doubt.
That pretty much sums up Salvador, however it could also apply to many other people, Leonardo, Anderson, Lovelace or even Freud himself.
It is strange paradox that all these famous people had a relentless drive to succeed or be famous, they all had emotional and/or sexual hang-ups and failed to please either an absent farther or a disapproving one but their over compensation has brought about a world in which we have the Mona Lisa, Psychoanalysis, space travel and computers.
My word I have been rambling again haven't I interweb. Sorry.
Right then interweb it looks like it may be time for some drivel, so here you go, It is not advisable, to venture unsolicited opinions. You should spare yourself the embarrassing discovery of their exact value to your listener. And if that is not enough for you let me give you some advice, Do not keep on with a mockery of friendship after the substance is gone - but part, while you can part friends. Bury the carcass of friendship: it is not worth embalming.