Whenever there's a chance to see his art, I'm there. Salvador Dali makes me feel so happy, always.
Decades ago, before he died in '89, people still spoke about his art as much as whimsical antics. He was a serious surrealist, a technical virtuoso then a question mark was quietly put alongside his name.
Doubt he cared, a superb draftsmen, technician, master artist.
All those primary colors, the female form always divinely worshipped by Dali, brought to the canvas with the clearest lines.
I've seen exhibits in the past where there's dozens upon dozens of perfectly drawn black curves to illustrate the female figure in the as if the exercise of drawing the same thing over and over again might produce something different. And it does, each compact image lovelier and more colorful than the one before.
This exhibit in the town center was full of energetic images of horses, dashing, playful, everywhere...
His famous "Persistence of Memory" wasn't there of course and yet recent dreams have focused on my distant past, when I was a child...I love dreams, especially when as vivid as they've been since the move. And I love Dali, so novel in the way he presented images, ideas, form...he makes me feel so happy...
