Blog Tapas - Barcelona, Tres

I made my way through the alleys, looking up at the wrought iron balconies on the buildings to either side of me, to the Picasso Museum. It's located in several connected medieval mansions in an area called La Ribera. The buildings themselves were impressive art.

I'm not that into paintings, really. I have a simple view of them, devoid of the symbolism artists sometimes intend. Colors mean things, brush strokes are communicative. But to me, I just see a pretty picture. I once saw a nice painting in a museum of a young peasant girl with a broken pitcher at a well. I thought it was a good-looking painting. I remember thinking that the girl was going to be in trouble with her parents when they saw that she broke the pitcher. But apparently, the girl represented a country, I think, and the broken pitcher a loss of innocence. Or something. I stopped reading the description halfway through.

But Picasso definitely impressed me. The museum showed paintings and other works from when he was 10 to when he died. There was so much variety: in styles, in color, in subjects. The man could paint. I was amazed that when I looked at a painting from far away, it would look realistic- like a photo- and then up close it seemed vague.

I have always been bored by the titles of paintings though, so I decided to give a few of Pablo's some new names. Two of my favorites were "Nun Asks Jesus for a Light for Her Cigarette" and "Peasant Women Playing Craps" (I subtitled the latter "Mama Needs a New Babushka").