Manuel Diez Matilla: a forgotten fate

 

 

Psychoanalysis of the work of Manuel Diez Matilla

 

6th part

Revision in Saturday, December 8th, 2012

By Christian Diez Axnick

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Below a Round Table ivory made not my father, of a big decorative wealth.

 

 

Below two paintings of my grandmother, in the green and blue cold tones, which
testify of her long and painful disease: the alzheimer.













Let us compare again with a detail of the carpet of the creation, mother, snake, and child.

The painting of my father is also prophetic, and approaches, places the long decay,
the disorder and the mental confusion of abuela.

The snake gets overcomes little by little the mother.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 Among hundreds of paintingsrealized by my father, we can retain the series of two or three paintings which
he had realized every time on different themes. As well the pastoral theme of the hunter of goldfinches,  or still that of the man praying in front of a crucifix.

He had been inspired by the Figaro and by the photo after the disaster of Fréjus. Or still those of my grandmother, seriously affected to alzheimer.

With blue and green tones evoking the disease and the terrible mental decay which she entails.

 

My father when he approached a theme, returned sometimes above. On arrival we keep
sometimes only certain photos of certain paintings which have eventually lands god knows who.


He did the same from the point of view of the composition. For example when he left on neutrals to work funds,

then came to greens for trees, and to whole color palette there.

Chestnuts, ochre, grey, point of red to make blue the extremities. His knowledge of the ranges,
the ease with which he managed to slide thousands of colors, to innovate in the choice of colors, stays something rather stunning

 

 

 He did not grow tired of working with brushes, of coming and of returning, of scratching as one said in the jargon of the
house painters. It is a little the same thing for tables or furniture, we put in reality little paint on the brush,

we go and we return, slowly, all in good time.

 He also realized portraits of my mother, friends, other persons of the family. I soaked very early in this particular
atmosphere. I had an exceptionally gifted dad, and I reacted as a kid to whom we open the doors of the secret and the world.

 I was astounded, privileged is the exact term.

 Unfortunately, my two brothers did not share my taste and my passion for the work which it made, at
least not as much as me. However, I did not really make my proof more than they, and I am willing to make amends,

because I have never too much had time to paint, finally ever enormously. The problem is rather than the other
passions of my two brothers got the upper hand over the painting. But I was not either particularly hard-working,

contrary to my father who was a working animal. But I liked very much working with him on the workshop.

On the other hand, I assimilated his technique, a large part of its knowledge. I liked very much watching at him working, I was stunned.

And nevertheless, it is so ridiculous if we base ourselves on the art history, on the market of the art.
He was a painter so much ignored not to say partially rejected by the society, even if he knew his hours of glory.

 On what I saw him making, concerning certain tables, certain furniture, certain floral, natural or aquatic decorations,

I have to say that I dedicated him an admiration without border, me which rest it is necessary to say it a rather ordinary,

even mediocre individual, but I do not want to darken either too much the board as for me.

I helped him to the workshop also during good about fifteen years. I started the workshop  in 8 years and the factory in 16,

afterward I became respectable, I continued the school, but at the bottom we do not teach it much of other than the hatred

and the contempt of the differences.

It is a place who we take up people some against the others easily, the place of all the manipulations also.

To the workshop, we do not lie, we know the quality of every person and its capacities.

Everything is estimated in a workshop.

It is true that sometimes, my father treated me a little as a germ, but I neither was
specially resourceful or manual either, nor too much endowed.

On the other hand, I made the Greek, I spent the blending, I made gilts and many other things.

I have to say it by respect for the public, his disappearance had plunged me into the confusion, I did not understand any more who I was.

We cannot go alongside to such a monument without leaving it anything which will belong for ever to the
story. He died in the injustice, at the height of the devastation caused by the AIDS, in a world delivered to him even.

He left his imprint, his magic leg, and it left joining somewhere his, those who are one of us somewhere also, because
our people knew his hours of suffering also. He leaves a big space behind him, who was not filled until now.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 Manuel Diez Matilla: a forgotten fate

 

 

Psychoanalysis of the work of Manuel Diez Matilla

 

7th part

Revision in Sunday, August 18th, 2013

By Christian Diez Axnick

 

 

 

 

“ No te hagas el perrin (Does not make the puppy) ”, he said. 

 

 

 

 

 Below a Round Table ivory made by my father, of a big decorative wealth.

 

 

 

 

 

 Other picture of 4 doors before of a piece of furniture of my father. Below a photo with Christmas.

 

 

 

 

 Family photo, with pupuce ( mohli ) and Viking.

 

 

 

 From left to right: Micaela, Carmen ( carmenchu ) below, Prudencio with Maria Congost, to the right Don
Primitivo. I do not remember any more the other person in the center, Luisa whom believe.

 

Below painter's meeting in Spain.

 

 

 

 

 

 Below, one of my works of modern composition. He asked me for a crowd of studies of conception and for a
pushed arrangement of the harmony of colors. The face complies and deforms, contorts.

The nose joins an ear in the shape of breast. I borrowed certain ideas from Pruden.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 As I painted little, I try hard to work the conception, and I work on modern works we are going to say, because I am a
draftsman designer. But for lack of time, I a little lost the thread of the painting.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 My father always lavished me of very good practical councils, and I followed them of my best.

But after his disappearance, little by little, the reflexes diminished. I did not
soak any more in the atmosphere of its painting workshop, in the smells of the
turpentine and the oil painting.

He had a funny character, a tempered character, a sacred conception of his job. It
was a maniac of the composition, the perfection, of all that we can imagine in painting.

Which strength, which power of character and will to make well and of perfection he released.

 

 I more and more turned after his death to the CAD-CAD, the computing, I made quite a lot of plans EXE for
example, on AUTOCAD. Leaving from there my professional life was absorbed by the world of engineering consulting

firms over the years. More and more towards technique, the civil engineering, the CVC, the HVAC, the plumbing and so on.

In fact, I did a service in France, but my artistic career found itself unsettled.

A few years ago, journalists presented Gérard Garouste to the television, which
is the biggest French modern painter. I also like him, it is a fact, because my
father worked during the main part of all his career with Garouste and Jeumont,
the managers of the décor du logis, street of the Faubourg Saint-Antoine, finally
formerly.

Today, thirty glorious are ended, over. But which period it was. He had I believe up to 10
employees under his orders. I was going to deliver with him being a young
street of the Faubourg Saint-Antoine, with its famous Fiat 238, the small van
which has never left him. When I asked for it removal, because she was old and
in the state of carcass, wreck, he has never forgiven it me afterward.

 

 

 

 

 

 We had badly understood this day there. I had suggested to him to ask for the removal with the Opel of my
aunt Angelita and he had answered me that yes, but finally they had removed only the small van, and not the car.

He produced all the same in 20 or 30 years sublime and unforgettable hundreds of
pieces of furniture, tables, and so worked of the highly-rated thus of the
Faubourg Saint-Antoine, with the cabinet makers also, during all the middle of
his life. He had other customers in Biarritz and in Tours. To Deauville as
well, the same as those of Tours. Which reign he had, that of a pictorial domination
without division.

 Today, to say everything toyou, I live an a little bit monotonous and a little bit mediocre life also, his
genius is not any more there, his insurance, its hand either, then from time to
time I a little let go myself in the routine, in my lost memories, and I think
at the hours of glory almost by crying.

So many others are also disappeared in my family after him, familiar figures, to
begin my brother David, then of the highly-rated of my father, Vénancio his
older brother, then Vicente (Petente as we nicknamed him; Méré, his wife,
visited us a few years ago with her niece Ouria, she lives to Toro). My two
uncles are thus so dead after David. Then my aunt of Germany, Edith, is also
disappeared, it does not stay more than Marita and Gerda, Helga
died before my father, after the disappearance of Hulda, my grandmother, who
followed my grandfather I believe.

 Mere ( Emerenciana) invited us to Toro. She possesses an apartment there low. Angelito held a cybercafe in the exit of Toro.

Javi, him, lives to Guardamar del Segura, with his wife Loli, his son Noël which had
visited us with his aunt Méré, and a girl also came, Victoria. The major part
of my family of Spain rests in the cemetery of Toro, in the family vault.
Vicente has a grave to part.

I began paintings but I do not manage to finish them for lack of time and of
means. Marisa her, the wife of Bernardo, my cousin, one of the sons of
Vénancio, dashed into icons for a long time.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 Photo of us three any youngs, in front of "andas". David to the left in yellow shirt and
Ingo in the center in lined shirt.

 Somewhere, it is necessary to say it, the deficit of democracy in this country opened the way to the totalitarianism.
When the conservative ranks are not in front of, run-ups of restoration are daylight little by little.

The big period of Manuel Diez has nothing to do with this new fundamentalism, this new intellectual sectarianism.

On the contrary, it is a period of pioneers, a real epic for the small business sector. The
artist is emancipated, he lives a life we said it bookish and close to the time
and to the fashions, he puts a lot. But already, we press dangerously the
lemon. Already, we over-exploit the goodwill, we make thinner
the purchasing power of the talented entrepreneurs, the workers who follow them
in the adventure.

We see it in this picture, our products were not any more adapted to the new time of the laser-disc, which affixed somewhere its
signature at the end of this big period (hi-fi systems, VIDEO, 33 tr records, bookcases).





Still life of my father. The line, the drawing (el trazo, el dibujo), the cleanliness and the variety of the nuances, the tones
and the colors, characterize its works, the composition also. It is a composition of arrangement, measure and volume.

 " El trazo es muy importante, la cantidad of pintura es muy importante ", he said.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 My father and I at the beginning of the 70s. He had to stop smoking from day to day. I am stopping
little by little. I do not discourage to reach there, I take nicopass. I strongly restricted

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 Manuel Diez Matilla: a forgotten fate

 

 

Psychoanalysis of the work of Manuel Diez
Matilla

 

8th part

Revision in Sunday, August 18th, 2013

By Christian Diez Axnick

 

 Above an old memory, our house at the beginning of the 60s.

Below our poster in the big period. 

 

 

I have to say it, when my aunt had come from Spain with her niece, it had a little
given to me the homesickness. Spanish is a language so poetic, so melodious, in
the prose so imaginative and surprising. I like this tongue, which sings less
that Italian, but allows so many subtleties and sharpness in a discussion.

Spanish is the language of the pleasant and the refinement, the typically Spanish humor.

The phlegmatic humor of this tongue, calms down, plain of joke, is for me something of which I cannot take place.

 

France is a country globally richer than Spain,inclusive Catalonia. Only in Ile-de-France, every region possesses practically
at least hundred castles with parks and gardens. That of Chamarande, in the Essonne, has a gigantic, breathtaking park.

National archives are there, as to Pierrefitte (I worked on it at BETOM for the air conditioning). More than 20 000 workers died
on the other hand during the construction of the Palace of Versailles, in particular because of swamps and of malaria.

A whole world collapsed with Manuel Diez's death, that also last illusions of an a little more just, a little less sectarian world. It was
really a big genius, today his paintings went almost everywhere, the family, the friends, some food sales.

I do not want to be square, but I find that painters of his dimension and its
stature are lacking already in our time unstitched, who we try to launch some modern artists so-so.

I glimpsed the exhibition on the Swiss painter Paul Klee for example, or rather overflew.
Gérard Garouste was on television several times, being considered as the
biggest contemporary French painter. But I do not find the concern of the
detail and the intrusive passion of the perfection who possessed my father, the
hand which he had. A documentary was dedicated to Garouste who also painted in earth-saint.

 He and Jeumont are charming people, with whom my father worked all the same about twenty years and for whom he realized
hundreds of tables and furniture. But to go to the front difficulties, I would say that the world of the art stagnates today, not to say that it finds itself
in the impasse who we were kind enough to throw him.

Parts were inequitably distributed since the beginning. I mean there that we shall
not redo any more an artist as my father. And then, France is a jealous country
of its privileges, exploiter. It is there harder and harder to work, to find
the inspiration there which is our fiber to all.

 

 This inspiration, it sometimes came to miss him, but it always eventually resurfaced unexpectedly. My father
worked with all the head. It was an intelligent, very cunning and very resourceful painter.

He had this innate sense of the painting, this voracious passion, this faculty to solve the biggest difficulties, these exceptional bright
flashes of lightning. He had the class and the talent gathered.

All his life took place and scrolled the paintings which he composed

 Honestly, I have nothing of that kind, qualities which he had, even if I took many notes of what he explained me and
learnt me. He supported me always, always always managed, taught his thousand one tricks and other small things.

His talent was insane. I was amazed by what I saw, amazed, he was bluffing, often completely amazing.

When I think of him, I have the impression to be a dwarf in esteemed by him.

Somewhere, I am almost ashamed of me, but I saw revised the wonderful moments when we sometimes spent,
I see again in dream the tireless worker that it was. I always followed him as I was able to, of my best.

 Yes, he could sometimes have a little of contempt for such or such, or not like such or such other one, look
up and measure the biggest, such a genius could him allow itself. That's saying something.

 I saw at work him during years. He crushed me as vulgar one louse of all his class.

I would almost dare to say that I looked like an idiot in front of such a monster of the painting,

so much for the oil, as for the cellulosic, the watercolor or the pastel.

My foundations were exploded by so much control and know-how.

 I found myself little in an a little bit solo parallel career, so much I did not make the weight.

 About some appreciated my work, him even sometimes.

He lavished me all his encouragements, he helped me a lot.

 Stemming from a prosaic world on the point to disappear, an exceptional world which we shall not find
any more, Manuel Diez was also somewhere the product of this world, one of his last representatives.

We have a common point, it is that he set notes in the pencil in his workshop a lot
which left place today with an extension of the house. I too on my workplace,
generally take notes. Can these few lines help, councillor and inspire the
talents to come, the young people who arrive.

I remember a delivery to Deauville. He had absolutely wanted that Katia Granof
dedicates her book " of Spain " in Honfleur. He dedicated a real passion to the contemporary writers.

He liked very much reading. He liked very much Jean D'Ormesson for example, or Michèle Morgan as I said it somewhere else
in my studies. She also has a gallery in Paris, on the Champs-Elysées Ibelieve.

I passed by Honfleur with Hanifia after a stay to Fécamp. Her gallery always
exists. Good artists always expose in Honfleur. The walk throughout galleries
is soft and pleasant. Honfleur is a small marvel leaned in the sea, and count
even a small beach. The lights of Fécamp are very attractive at night
also.

On the photo which follows, previous in the time, we see him to Jasper, the dog which
he probably most liked. He came with us too to Deauville, as Viking, the German
shepherd, we had several of this name there. Jasper had bitten Guy, of the décor
du logis, when he had come. He was not an easy one. But he was very
affectionate with my father.

We perceive the old table of the workshop, on which he so much worked, and the bric-a-brac
at the bottom.


On this photo, David is lower left, and I sat on my lengthened father.

 

 

 

 

Manuel Diez Matilla : a forgotten fate

 

 

 

Psychoanalysis of the work of Manuel Diez Matilla

9th part

By Christian Diez Axnick

Revision in Sunday, August 18th, 2013

 

 

 I recommend to enlighten on a more general plan reader of this essay an entitled book " The big dates
of the French literature ", of Alain Couprie, in the editions Nathan University,

who redraws well enough the various movements in the French
literature. We can here understand for example that the new novel (nouveau
roman) is the last current of literature which took place in France. His
definition can seem to us vague today, and will be clearer by a few years.

In the same way, and in the same order of idea, Manuel Diez belongs to the bookish
tradition, that of the novel, in the measure or he joins in a certain
continuity.

 A book to be read, I read it there is about years: " the Montmartre of our twenty years ", of Paul
Yaki, Francis Carco's foreword, editions the old Montmartre. It is an
inescapable work for whom is interested in the French thought and in the
Montmartre.

Myfather frequented during his life places by or the biggest passed, especially
in Montmartre. I think as well to Van Gogh, Utrillo, Utter, of Suzanne Valadon,
of Gen Paul, of Fujita, of Man Ray (the American photographer of Montparnasse),
Toulouse Lautrec, Depaquit, Emile Bernard, Raoul Dufy and so many others, as
the chansonnier Aristide Bruand, or Renoir, that my father did not love too
much. We find certain parallelism there, the district being a real ant-hill of
painters and personalities of any orders. My father " had his
mouth " as we said of him.

It is him for example who realized the wooden shelves to tidy up a whole lot of old
sculptures, saved a lot of posters of Poulbot. Francisque Poulbot lived there; I worked at SR
electricity, practically in front of the house or he also lived in Saint-Denis,
in two streets of the basilica.

I worked for this society on the street of Rivoli (Together commercial Celio /
Jennyfer) and on the Drugstore Champs-Elysées in particular.

Lautrec, also, passed there. What he was able to save as posters of Lautrec. Which
shambles it was because this museum. Idem with sculptures and any sorts of
objects and sculptures.

He also threw itself into the cave, more than into the arena. If Zola wrote " the
stomach of Paris " in reference to the Halls, Montmartre is a real
termites' nest. He hated Carpenter, whom he accused for a long time of walking
with needles, and of coming in the back. Once or we passed by car with Pruden
after his redundancy, he even asked me to accelerate and to mow him while he
took out surreptitiously of 12 street Cortot, the museum thus of the old
Montmartre. His trial I said it lasted all the same 2 or 3 years, with a crowd
of witnesses.

He had particularly gone back up against him. I did not know in reality too much
Carpenter. He was almost never there when I came, and Claude Estier let us not
speak it. My
father sometimes received friends, father Charnin, Swiss priest, Spanish
friends, or still my brothers, or simply from relations of the mound. There was
Anne-Marie, Mrs Vertex.

Can the species of memorandum that I dedicate him to light the art lovers of all kinds,
and to make his contribution. Today for example, the Evangelische Kirche which
frequents my mother every Sunday in Paris organizes guided tours on the steps
of Utrillo. An exhibition took place in the picture gallery. Mrs Buttler takes
care of that, she is a minister. I saw the exposure with my wife. I find her
really great paintings, and her very interesting initiative it is true.

Concerts in the German church are remarkable

 

  There is a thing which I like, and which costs more than anything in the world for
me, it is the enthusiasm of the young Japanese generations, the will to become
integrated Japanese who live in France. Even Chinese which I sometimes see in
my job are interested seems to me you it as well in the fact as Jesus was a Jew
half Syrian, half Palestinian. Finally, I exaggerate, because Jesus was
israëlite, spoke Hebrew, and additionally Greek and Aramaic.

But the Japanese optimism seems to me even more important to the youngest. The freshness
of the Japanese is something pleasant. I would not say so much weakness or the
quasi-non-existence of our relationships with them, unfortunately.

I would want to say it here, because if we interpret correctly the thought of Jesus, it
is important.

A few years ago, Kristel, the sister of Oma, my grandmother, died. I was not even
able to be for the funeral. In this connection the book "Les sagesses d'
orient" of Gilbert Sinoué, is an excellent book of reflection. I often
regret that families know each other enough little or too little and are
separated by the geography.

My brother made the second journey in China. It is very difficult to restart in
Asia since Hiroshima and Nagasaki, is needed the courage. There also the crimes
of the American imperialism are uncountable and were also reported to us. My
brother is a case, he has never worked his life, but as I have already said it
he has knowd the major part most great masters of martial arts of the world. Dida
Diafat for example is from Villiers-le-Bel, I once perceived him with Ingo. He
was a world champion of Thai boxing.

I also think of this young Thai boxer, Mohamed, meanly murdered a few years ago to
Drancy. At the bottom, our algebra exists in the society, the criminality is a
crucial, alarming problem. Thank God, Berthe Mann has relatives who lives in
Jerusalem! That is what moves closer to us a few to the Holy Land.

Towards this period I had written to the emperor of Japan, but he preferred not to
answer me. The problems of the suburb exist it is true for all. Latimier did not decide on him.

 I think that Gulistan, of Saadi, is a big work. Pierre Seghers published it in the S.N.E.D. In fact, he
plundered texts. I got through it, but not in Arabic or Persian language. I had
not seen the exhibition on Sassanides. I do not despair with the Pahlavi.
Especially because of Leila's death. I can make a mistake, but I do my best in
spite of my health problems. I think that they progressed a lot. Two things can
damage us, says Saadi in Gulistan: keep silent when it is necessary to speak;
speak instead of keeping silent.

Except a song " as The suerte the inteligencia ", of Pepe Pinto, I do not
see major reference here. Things were to be difficult for Leila, she could not
have that few marks in life.

My father and I listened to this song during his last three years of its life to
the museum Cortot in Montmartre a lot. The canary of my father spun around its
cage. One day he escaped and my father had remained crazy about sadness. He
almost died from sorrow to have no more the canary. One day he did not return
to his cage, somebody has of to open the window. I do not know if it is me, I
do not believe. But as it is never known as we say. Anything can happen.

 

Three other proverbs:

- The wise person works, the ignoramus hopes.

- Your word is as your daughter: know who place her.

- Our tongue is a bow " We do not more see returning the word escaped from the
mouth than the arrow escaped from the bow " And when the arrow gets it all
wrong in the heart of other one, it is too late. ( Abou Shakour).

I saw the movie " The day of the skirt " with my mother and Hanifia. I
found that not bad. It is very theatrical. I was removed endly an enormous
nevrom of Morton in the left foot.

"Grantorino" is also a good movie. For once, my mother and Hanifia loved well Eastwood. I
saw him in V.O. with Hanifia. I think that it is one of better Eastwood and
doubtless one of the last ones.

I had signed a contract with a national company. I was bound to secrecy; finally,
happened to me the same thing with another society afterward. At the end of the
construction site all my creations will not return to this company because we
did not guard me after all. I was not rather pugnacious, I should have demanded
the notes of calculation. Generally, quite a lot of BE or companies which hire
me recommend me the discretion or the secret. Recently I made the plumbing of a
cultural center of the lower basement up to the roof.

I visited the palace of the UNESCO, and I found him particularly innovative and
modern.

In particular the presence of granite plates resulting from Hiroshima or Nagasaki.
The Americans released the bomb while the peace was signed and the finished
war. The old director of the UNESCO was Japanese.

The UNESCO also shelters works of Miro, Picasso and many of the other very
interesting things, of which a tapestry to the signed drawing Corbusier made to
Aubusson.

 My mother says that she was of a sacrificed generation, as that of my father, and it's true.

We can speak indeed about sacrificed generation, and somewhere, it is a little the same thing for ours.

 For example even recently a movie (Inglorious bastards) redraws the story of an Israeli
commando squad asked to eliminate Hitler. It is the fiction as the parody I
imagine, I did not see it.

 In the case of the generation of my parents, it is the reality, as well of the highly-rated of Moltke

as the highly-rated of Opa Linie, the grandfather of my cousins Arne and Markus. I have spoke in the
manual worker of introduction. They really and really went to the fire in front
of Hitler, when he sometimes made until 99 % of the voices in villages the most
moved the back by Germany. It deserves other thing than these American parodies
rather tinged with US nationalism, even if it is true that Hitler had other
important enemies, about whom this Von I do not know any more what,
Stauffenberg I believe.

A few years ago, I accompanied my mother in Deaconess of Versailles, who are bound I
believe in the deaconesses of Reuilly.

My wife Hanifia, had passed in Julien Lepers's broadcast " Questions for a
champion " when she arrived in France, and then passed in that of Thierry
Beccaro (Motus) because she had made a success of the qualifications. She won
with another lady. Beccaro that I saw is a big professional of the broadcasting
in my opinion, an upright man in his boots, integrates, sober and hard-working.
Lepers is also an open and intelligent man, sometimes a little scattered.

It seems to me that she is again going to pass in Motus.

She wrote in I do not know any more which body to say to them that " it is of
the fawning ", on my behalf in reality.

Indeed journalists had got to film Carla Bruni's dog or I do not know any more what,
then the president, " the dropping " as her calls him, invited itself
on the plateau. It was arranged in reality, the journalists shouting to the
surprise.

Undoubtedly Europe fell very low, our country more than another one. The upholder of one of
the worst nationalisms of his history managed of the sleight of hand to become
omnipresent on our screens, he monopolizes the media. And the left, for lack of
prevention, for lack of union, for lack of fighting spirit is allowed dismiss
by it pitiful.

My wife hates Sarkozy and changes channel as soon as he appears, she channel-flicks all
the time when pass the information and Ministers' troop which follow him. I I
consider that sometimes he makes his job as he can, and that the society is
widely also in collusion.

It is always the same who have to make the work, never the leaders in the power.
There is not in the current panorama of alternative in this tyranny which takes
shape for already years. A reaction force is missing. Which industrial and
financial, the biggest disaster which never occurs. Which lack of solidarity
and historic continuity. We break us. We humble us, we crush us. We minimize
our glorious past by the slander, the parody and satyr. I launch
here a solemn appeal. It is necessary to react. Wake up, raise you before it is
too late. The democracy is worth this effort. Let not your leaders spread the
lie and the ignorance. Let us organize the fight. Each has to take part in it.
The situation is serious. Our liberties are in danger.

I do not say that the differences do not exist between us. For me Alsace and
Lorraine (Elsass und Lothringen) were German during millenniums. But it is
necessary to level our various, to fight sets, and to hunt Sarkozy and his pipe
band of the power. A consensus, a general line is needed. Let us leave our
various with the cupboard. Let us take action. Let us not make in the
half-measure, our positions must be clear.

Let usside with the transparency in front of strengths and of the reactionary powers.

We always made it, we know how to make it, we shall know well how to make it
again.

My grandmother said " Wer sich als ein Hund vergibt, muss auch als ein Hund
bellen ". The one who behaves as a dog, also has to bark as a dog. I find
this very true sentence today. My grandmother has never hidden that sha was for
Hitler, and at the bottom I almost agree with her, or at least I understand it.
Hitler was an Austrian Jew among others, but at least he spoke clearly and he
really said of what he thought, even if I have never thought as him, what is
not the case of Cohn-Bendit, for whom I voted in the last European elections. I was
disappointed upon the arrival of the races I have to say. It is meaningless.
And otherwise all vote for the right, and are allowed get round as lackeys.

My grandmother when she lost in the games, began cheating. Sacred Oma. For example
when we played "Barrikadenspiel", the game of barricades who we play
with dice and place barricades to the others. She did well to laugh my mother. Oma
was very bad loser. In the rummy, also, who I always well enough played, or
other games. My mother did not too much forgive her for being so bad loser. In
Kniffel also, from time to time, she cheated. But I adored Oma.

Some people speak about revolutionary risk in this country, but do they say that
during decades, the assembly was kept by Jean-Louis Debré, about whom I spoke
in the manual worker of introduction, and that he was not even capable of
obtaining his school diploma ? They gave it to him only later and to regrets.
He did not have it at once.

It is necessary to react, it is the rule in democracy. France does not have to live
within the OTAN. The majority want the independence. Full stop. We are 500
million French speakers, and almost so many Spanish-speakers, Hispanics.
Sarkozy wants to make of us the servants of America. America can take place of
us, she always made it. To tell the truth, towards us, America always opted
for the ignorance. She ignores us. We do not count for her and she plays
without us, exploit us at most. The subprime mortgage crisis is a waste of
America.

The Americans seem good to be the first ones to mess royally Sarkozy. That we do
not imagine that I agree with him, it is only a pawn also. The highly-rated
" top hearts " is well known. In each to sweep in front of the door.

A public deficit was multiplied by two, members of parliament sent to sit in
Brussels, a congress in 400/500 000 euros for him, without counting all the
rest, Sarkozy profoundly changed the panorama, in particular at the young
people. There
are those who hate him, those who hate and channel-flick to every Sarkozy, my
wife is a member of it, and the immense majority of others.

I would say that French is difficult to encircle. Let us take Jacques-Laurent Bost, a
French writer who not bad wrote on Spain.

He says in " Spain from day to day " ( Edition Paul Morihien ) relevant
things and undoubtedly very interesting, but his racism, its contempt and its
disrespect wastes everything. Prosper Mérimée is the other writer, that seems
to me who the most wrote on Spain.

What he describes on "Pundonor" is very close to the reality, and to what
represented the Spanish theater, I had the opportunity to see. It was to shriek
with laughter.

It is there that it is necessary to remind to the youngest and at least informed
which extraordinary and outstanding artist was Manuel Diez Matilla. So that
they understand this strange, folded up and mesmerizing Spain. Of him until
Diego Amador, the guitarist of Flamenco who rises lately.

We shall redo no more painters as him. We are too much props up it in the deep
changes of society nowadays, too much oppressed, embarrassed even.

 Also let us understand that he sometimes said
" Los Americanos lo saben muy ", but I do not know what exactly. He
seemed to hint at American barracks in Spain.

 Here, I would like to prefer to hint at Lia Marchese, who knows me well. But I can make a mistake.

 I know it. There is also Francesca Lardin, the last friend of David, that I also knew well.

 An important page of our common history turns,
and it will be necessary to think of questioning the generations to come, of
asking to them for what they want to make for their own tour, to explain them
that this important artistic inheritance also concerns them, that each must
know how to take in hand, take care.

To deliver only an example, in the time either my father was in Montmartre, Claude
Nougaro already walked with Maurane in the district, or rather it is her which
walked on its steps.

I attended her excellent concert to Garges-lès-Gonesse who she pays him tribute
in her tour " O Nougaro ". My father had crossed his road one winter
evening I believe. Both men had common points. Which poet was Nougaro.

Not far in the district, the house thus of Diane Dufresne and of I do not know any more
which artist said to us Maurane. She sang in a cabaret of the district. I found
her particularly excellent, remarkable musicians all in all. Recently, my
mother, Hanifia and I so gone to see naps a concert of Country music in the
space Aznavour from Arnouville.

I went to see with Hanifia Richard Geere's last movie " Hatchi ". It was
really very well, very moving, the story of this dog which returned for 9 years
on the place who he still looked for his disappeared master.

Hanifia and I had also seen a very interesting representation of The flute enchanted to
Garges.

My
father had also seen it with my mother very long ago. It is a real masterpiece.

I often listen to Flute enchanted with Mozart. I find this particularly brilliant composer,
and I think that what he brought to the German people and to his music is
gigantic.

On the other hand, the fact that it was decreased, almost disabled person in reason
seems to me of venereal diseases, feels the effects slightly in his work.

My father had quantities of records at the house, but he was half deaf. He heard
very badly. Moreover, he died in reality from post-operative complications of
his operation of the ear or from the detached flag.

He lost consciousness first of all, and things then aggravated. The infection became
widespread afterward of establishment in establishment. It left from Gonesse who
he fell in the coma, following the failed operation of the ear at the hospital
Saint Denis's Delafontaine, then Bichat …

My mother speaks rightly in the case of her generation of " sacrificed
generation ". It is the case for a long time and until today, indeed. Mine
also gave a lot, without obtaining anything almost either in return. I saw
Opa Linie only once, it is to say the transition which was made. Nobody made
anything, nobody raised the little finger for this small man, this still young
old man, who participated in one of the biggest attempts against Hitler, the
father of Hanswerner, the grandfather of my cousins as I said it of the
highly-rated of my aunt Marita. Europe made nothing for him. Neither Germany
nor other countries. It was this attempt which had ended in hundreds of
beheaded opponents, a film parody of which we pulled. But for my uprooted
German family, it is deep Germany, the voice of Germany.

I appreciated a lot several months ago the exhibition on Munch in the picture
gallery. Munch is a very big artist, an immense painter, probably one of the
biggest Scandinavian painters. His painting reminds a little bit certain
masterpieces of Utrillo. My father moreover gets closer many of this style of
expression. It is a little the same school, the same vineyard. He stuck on the
brush, worked it, rested it. He scratched as one said in the building.

Once, my mother sold one of her paintings to win a little money. A big picture with a
flowerpot and ornaments of type and in the style of Old Castilla. A part of the
painting of my father was decorative and symbolist also. This
picture was one of very rare who he called on to the red, even if he used tones
red also to give nuances to tables and to furniture sometimes. Either he
cleared up, he “ bleutait ”, or he went towards tones leathers, or still
greens, or he warmed decorations with some red. It depended on the theme, the
decorations and the wishes of the customer.

Often, with Hanifia, my mother or other persons of the family, we are going to visit
castles or parks of the Paris region, who has not secrets anymore for me. We went
to Giverny and plan to return to it.

The public can notice it, our lifestyle partially became milder since the
disappearance of this big insatiable worker whom was my father, it painted
non-stop, its passion was tireless.

He painted until his last moments. I do not count his last two years of agony and
coma, because he had no more knowledge of him, he was not any more in state of
consciousness. He died in 1991.

 His two brothers, my uncles, followed him with David in 1999, very young death.

Today my uncles of Germany Uwe and Norbert went out too of operations.

 Let us hope that time to come are not too hard.
Hanifia has of still to undergo an operation after her successful mammary
reduction. I went
out there it make any years of a painful necrosis of the épiploom. The operation
passed well.

The last moments of his life were for him an Calvary and a terrible agony. I was
diverted, I did not know what to do. " No te hagas el perrin " (do
not make the puppy - el cachorro), he had said to me towards the end of his
life, before he dives into the disease. He waited as something of me, and did
not wish that I can make it for others. He died by way of complications
connected to the tuberculosis. He whose doctor had confided him upon his
arrival in France that he had never seen lungs as his. So spend years and
centuries, so go and come the makers of dreams and illusions, so cross the
artists.

 

 

Manuel Diez Matilla: a forgotten fate

 

Psychoanalysis of the work of Manuel Diez Matilla

 

10th party

 

By Christian Diez Axnick

Revision in Sunday, September 11th, 2011

 

" Goury de Roslan been born Von Moltke or the anti-Machiavellism "

 

( Warning : this text is now hold, the french text is more recent )

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  This tenth party, I partially also drafted her for people who doubtless wish to know a little better my ideas. I think for example of Miss Ghaza, one athlete Syrian who was a world champion of heptathlon in Carolina Klüft's trail, just before its ascent, and why not in all those who hate me. They have the right me to criticize, but doubtless not all the rights either. I am not situated above everything, but I am situated on my place of barker, entertainer and strange and not too intelligent character either.

  I do not think of being a carpet for all that as thought of it my regretted brother David, and I have more honor than believed it my aunt Edith, but I stop here these useless debates, she had does well there reason. The world is what it is. A wide public, I noticed it, wishes to integrate the fabulous character whom was Manuel Diez Matilla by way of me, his younger son. I indeed want to serve as humble relai. I indeed owe him that. I admit the thoughtful and reasonable criticism. Because my role also is to inform. At least in my spirit.

 " El viento puede llévar todavia mas has veces ". " Subimos has tieso ". " Estamos a tutellar y a soto ". Let us stop any pride. Edith was doubtless also right. I would go even farther and I would say that Germany possesses a healthier, more objective and more critical vision. Certain recoil pulled over its situation.

  " Dale que te pego ", as said my father. " Séguimos andando ". It is true that you are all the same more than 10500 persons and some which are until today interested in the character and in the outstanding painter that he was. The public is a judge, it is a barometer and a serious indication of the success of an artist. And my father, even after his death, represents certain inescapable values, as well in the field of the oil painting as in that some cellulosic lacquer. He spoke about the only one

He spoke about a single way, and almost in the name of all Spain, at any rate he was one of rare Spanish must to have reached such an artistic and pictorial level for decades. I listened to all which went out of its mouth.

  I could say that I liked a lot a few months ago Michel Boujenah's funny show in the space Lino Ventura from Garges, who precedes of enough little the events of Tunisia, the outcome of which in spite of mortal confrontations seems happy at the moment. At any rate I hope for it for this country, because regrettably, the opposition MPs refused the experience which was offered to them of the power. The politics of the tense hand did not work. It understands, because this revolution counts already more than victims' hundred, and now much more. Boujenah is an immense coarse humour.

  I still loved a lot the movie " The Hottentot " that I saw in the cinema Jaques Prévert. He seemed to me at the same time funny and sad humiliating and perverse coach, finally if we want, because the production is what she is and in the situation which she also gives itself. At the bottom of my thought, I wish to return more to the Spanish language, but also to the language as the Hebrew there.

  However, I am not so fooled. There is as well a Yiddish, German, English, and then fact as realities seem clear or not. Arabic is also the language of a billion persons, the Altaic languages are also very interesting, the Aramaic is a part of it, the Armenian, the Turkish. There are so many interesting languages.

  I did not find as Hanifia that we had to deal with a dark Cuban actress. If Micaëla sees one day the movie, she will find it doubtless rather funny. My brother David listened to towards the end of his days the Cuban singer Compay Segundo a lot. It is a big actress and a comedienne.

 The Hebrew for Jesus stays the poor relation, the reference language, the most neutral, the most inescapable language. But his enemies were been already daylight. Already they want to put to death him as to fossilize him in this dead language.

 Let us try to return to our recent time there to sketch some more contemporary works on the Gaullist thought, that at the origin of a general endowed it is true with an important nobility of soul, but indifferent sometimes to the social poverty of the North, computer and deceitful according to his enemies, finally to a certain extent, because the greediness of the power always devoured a good part of the main Gaullist leaders also. Rather the top than bases it moreover.

Of these hypocritical and blind conspirators according to some who always make the things of such way, that at the end, Moroccan as the others, Americans for example, will always say to you that Hitler and Franco had only a single testicle between some crimes furthermore, some mediocrities furthermore or only his women know how to arrange the blow and save face, and still.

 De Gaulle was built a constitution for the own shoulders, by Lecanuet, Jacques Chaban-Delmas and Valéry Giscard d'Estaing. Its journey in Russia, its blindness about the line Oder-Neisse, while 12 million Germans lost their homeland, demonstrates it is true the madness and the total political unconsciousness of the character. Our family also had its own roots in East Prussia.

  And still, this democratic centralism is so serious? We can indeed come there by the other ends, it goes of is also, even if certain Moroccans are very cute, but melted in their system of thought in the grip of many difficulties in the contact of the Christian world. I am not there either to give reason or invent excuses which they do not have to the dictators. " No dice enseguida … ".

  The earthquake of the games of Barcelona, which saw the consecration of some some of the leaders who contributed to the murder of half of Europe, participates in the wreck of a generation, formerly carried in the naked, but who eventually found at the end. Even if were missing not some demonstrators' tens, but thousands not to say millions. Meanwhile, we passed in have it, refusing to ally us, slightly in fire-back, but refusing all the same. The reasons of state do not allow everything.

 I did not specially hate Jacques Chaban-Delmas's book " Memoirs for tomorrow ".

I like for example a passage or it delivers its reflection page 143:

" But it is necessary to recognize that with the lightning progress of the broadcasting the debate changed nature. The paper, we take him to read it; the image, we are taken by her. The paper allows the spirit to anticipate the sense of the words. The image is the homeland of the feelings. The paper constitutes by excellence the vehicle of the ideas. The image gives to understand only by giving to feel. The paper is a rifle the words of which are bullets. The broadcasting artillery kicks out ".

 Of course, Chaban in its gaullienne tradition is not either the German journalist Peter Scholl Latour, who it is true is rather critical in his book "Hexagonie", but he takes place de facto from the point of view seems you he of a member of Parliament, and not from the point of view of a soldier or of a politician eager for power and for lie, everything in

 Scholl Latour as for him, at least it remains underlying in its rather masterful and typically German book, does not leave inevitably untold the most absolute what according to him represents the evil made in Germany.

 What he brings back on the Saar and brushes on the even French or German politicians is interesting. What he depicts on the relations between Aachen and Reims, on the history of both countries also, in particular as regards May, 68 or the general branch of the Capetians also. He defines Jacques Chirac as a neo-Gaullist, what seems to me true.

  I hold besides Chaban however more technician he is not. Page 233 he brushes, I say it at the risk of deceiving me heavily, a painting of its vision as regards Pierre Mendès France.

  François Mitterrand will also have his vision of things on this subject. Leaving above, there does not seem be of ambiguity, and nevertheless, it is a relative symptom also between what what seems to me good to be the report, the relation sometimes distended between the political world and the Jews, at least in France.

 There is thus a difficulty of the Gaullists in cuissage of assumption, or smoke screen, but the Moroccan or Arabic film-maker who realized the movie " The Hottentot ", does not he also make the same thing of the Arabic point of view? Let us stop the action here some time. Yes, it exists in Europe, and I do not think of getting lost of many, social, societal relationships. They are sometimes dark, even absconds, because Africa, mythical earth, is also nice as in the grip of its own interests of domination also. But globally, we are in the humor or the melodrama.

  In the moment or whole populations stigmatize a part of Europe, I think in Castile, there or take root my deep origins, and assume the right  to make reign all the forms of terror, you should not either show itself too naïve. Empty shells and kingly utopias are not less numerous. It is not however still for lack of having tried or tempted something again.

  More nobody wants a conscript army in Europe, at least in France, but of which really returns you it ? Is it really serious? And was the past like that die-hard so much that they are there? The education sank into the cynicism and the corporatism for a long time. Body and the good. However, Borgia, that did they really bring in Rome, and the apostles, that did they bring to the lions of the circus except their useless flesh? And these cruel Italian, which do they bring they? And the Catholics, whom did they thus invent of so incredible if it is not themselves?

 French divert everything in their own image and in their own interest, for a long time.

 Let us be serious, De Gaulle was responsible cold and cynical to refuse to receive Franco, who was half Galician half Castilian, as there are indeed Galicians pure origin, but which walk in it too? He too tried to fall over towards the autarky.

 It is not a very big secret, but it brings to light certain deceitful and deceptive calculations as states do not have to adduce in so cynical a way either. The psychological weapon often overrides the reasons of state, and as this one is often a delusion and a decoy. It is not still enough to bandage eyes. 

 There is by default a Big and Small Spain, naivety, that it is not completely acquired.

Because there are also the powers of the disinformation, the cynicism and the lie, the manipulator strengths.

 The republic is also a laboratory of imbecile collected as in a steam room. A gaping abyss opened to all the donkeys of the earth. Let us leave his horns with the bull, it for the better need, as we need our teeth. Tudela is the first hour, Bernardo's new property to Tordesillas will be the second.

  The coast of the Gallic warrior is partially also in question. Vercingétorix is also a load and almost a lost cause, or rather badly committed. His fate fell over in Rome.

 Jesus speaks in reality for the Hebrew people, but he thinks of it not less inevitably. The house of Israel can vacillate, be in question. But she knows the ins and outs.

  The Aramaic is also the language of the Christ, as Greek.

  Israel can thus rock, as of surcroit and by extension all the houses. Having said that, there is one " but here is ". Roberjot drives its engineering consulting firm as one even a cow to the dairy also. The economic report also remains a balance of power, finally if we want, this report is underlying and involves at the same time as it distils the influence and the strength of the decisions.

 If Jesus speaks of decimate of the truth, he makes it by advancing a little bit also, in let us try and by suppositions. Nothing of excess wizard either. Steffi Graf will thus have children half more quietened down Iranian. Let us call back it, Iran declared the war in Germany to make cross its commonplaces, the Pan-Arabism possesses some suspect ways also. The pressure is the pressure, decimates him steals beyond the balance of power. It is also the law of the democracy.

 In fact, Jesus does not look for the absolute and perfect truth, but rather the more succeeded and more imperfect truth, that of a certain ultimate fuzziness.

 Nevertheless, it also seems to me to employ the language of the precision. I am not either decimates it of the truth without being sometimes a little bit precise.

 I never give in to the oppression, to the intimidation. I have all the same hundreds of victories, hundreds of fights, and I do not want to pass an old imbecile simpleton and a lantern, obedient and orderly, whom I am not really either.

 The rosary on the honor is not harmless, but the smell of the decomposition does not decree. Before anything else, Jesus does not want completely fooled, he will be pious as a Roman emperor, but any proportions kept well, because he is not either in that case there.

  Mecca also is only a city. And if a Christian does not want to give money for the construction of a mosque, let us pledge that he can obviously make it also. What of easier.

I make it of good heart.

 It is not doubtless enough still to appear with all its stenches, I came humbly and cleanly. I asked for nothing to anybody, to whoever it is.

 But it is here, and very here, that the stuffing of urns, the uselessness of the armies, their corruption, becomes again very fast an evidence. George Bush also knows. Vietnam will have been only a repetition as the other one, the human and inhuman laboratory among the others.

Yes the real history of the Kennedy for example seems nevertheless good to be the one of a family of Irish Catholic I believe, these married indeed to a French (Jacqueline Bisset), yes the character extrapolateur of the man, what consists for him to spread in various analyses is not completely secret. But the real nature of the man is another question. When my father had dexposed to Valançay, he had effectively paid the journalists to make hima little advertising, by simple coquetry. To launch his workshop and its activity, also.

 But the historians will not say at once about him that he also worked for Mr or Mrs Dupont and so on, and at so many private individuals. Let us consider here a Jesus Christ who knows how to argue about unlimitedness, but who does not believe necessarily blunders, and not hidden Jesuit, computer and cold, but a Jewish leader with its codes. All Graf did not either murder Jews in pits in shot. A lot of people is called "Graf", "Diez", and so on also. However, if the imbecile govern the earth, it awakens so sometimes the attention of big well hidden characters.

" Dar has trigo ", " Péro has quien? ". It is also a possible debate. Jesus knows that the Jews understand, but here is also a historic unknown or things took a course at least clear and known. Do they really want to advance the world seriously? There live(lie) a new problem, that also of the lack of inspiration, but also a calcified universe.

 For him, so much thus to become a king of Jews, it is faster indeed. However, from such a point of view, there is either no Claude Monet who likes his time. Almost nothing of it which exists today does not exist in his time.

 It will be necessary to him to admit defending the cause of the Jews, it will be necessary to him to integrate this reality which for us the other Christians is not completely obvious. Moreover, the cause of the republic is not so far either, but than is it really? Nothing else than itself, obviously.

 Of other one quoted,which really authorizes us to believe in the virtues of the Christianity?

So to speak, practically nothing. It is a fact. There is nothing either to glean in such a religion. Our crédo own commits only we, and naturally, commits us to nothing either.

 That's why Jesus believes sincerely that the Jews summarize what for them stays and remains justified. But well, there is effectively a public question, and this stabbing interrogation:

" Why let us defend ourselves beak and nails the community, while ourselves let us know all the perversity of this pseudo-principle worn down at the heel for centuries ". Doubtless because we arrange means to make it anyway, and of the required knowledge. Even of the inspiration.

 And ao, because things are separated, and even with De Nittis, friend of Claude Monet, because it is the principle of the Greco-lsLatin culture, but it is only a last resort. The Christianity is sometimes also felt as a duty in spite of its incandescent genius. The retrospective dedicated to Monet knew a very big success.

 In fact, if Jesus re-knows the right of the Jews to have themselves, he does not re-know them inevitably the right to guarantee anything, and exactly, the world is also anything, whoever. That is what thinks partially, but partially only Jesus, and still.

Mrs Rummo says nothing too serious either, down from her perch, or in the grave or she immured herself living being.

" Protect the identity of the cultures in front of systems " as says it Chaban. Which demagoguery also. Especially in a country one we have never produced so much of zyklon B for the Nazis, or laboratories Pasteur effectively caused the infertility of million women, without counting the rest, with the last scandal of laboratories Servier. What of better?

And the crimes for which Mendès France guaranteed? And what they called " the Algerian War ", without ever giving her even a name, but by making a suitability?

Peter Scholl Latour places Mendès to the left, even if Mitterand distrusted him at the time of its relative alliance of circumstance with Waldeck-Rochet. Chaban places him more to the right. For Peter Scholl Latour, he wanted to by-pass the communist party by the left.

 Who could consider here the point view French exactly? Nobody, naturally.

Jesus knows it: there is either no system, but codes, lies, perfidies, treasons, the imaginary truths of circumstance, balance of power and contempt.

Yes, to a certain extent, the winners cannot be situated instead of the losers, and mutually.

 Poor Amélie Vandepush or not, anyway, real De Gaulle is blind socially due to his own nature, he drives partially masked. No Dresden, it is not Grozny. Yes the French-speaking point of view is suspect.

 That made set apart French us steal our women, us despoil of our rights, us slander, us libel? The country of Sarkozy, the extreme-right and the FN has good back.

How could their truth be serious today? Really, the party is finished for a long time. For them too. Their pseudo-truth is turned down the corner well.

The proletariat is a constant. The planned economy, it is also the bet of the ignorance and the negation of the realities, the dodge of the poverty.

 Of course, who says genocide, ethnocide, as in Rwanda, in Liberia, or somewhere else in Africa, understands very well that everything is affair " of Einfluss ", of influence, influenza, et cetera.

The whites and the blacks see it good. A first party is very fast played. Joan of Arc dies all the same finally in flames and on the bucher.

 The trick she, exists well. Little by little, the colonial ex-empires lost their influence, their credibility.

 As for the gospel of Judas, it is not obviously the will of Judas. As for sound thirteenth as he calls him himself, it is obviously its thirteenth, but really, here is all the cleverness also.

 Here is which bridge with the real world seems consumed well. And especially, because the Spanish language is vast and diverse, how Jesus sees the Jewish world: with the two eyes. As he said it: " you see the straw which is in the eye of your brother, but kept silent does not see the beam which is in your eye ".

 Of course, the house of Israel is not either above everything. The "Don Fernando" also settles down. Later at least, and to a certain extent also. The cancer also settles down, and at every level. We lost so little by little the contact with Spain, with these extraordinary people, these funny people, with the humor so particular, and creative.

 Jesus speaks of decimate of the truth, because he understands the drama of the life, between what we wanted, what we really made, and what is, and this time, the word " nothing " is a different problem, even if it is recurring. A word which wants to say nothing more about the whole.

 Forgotten the remarkable Anselmo Fuerte, Gutierrez, the team-mate of Ocaña I believe, or Bahamontès, the tolédan, the cycling is indeed a sport of strength which liked fanatically my two brothers opened to all but also free. One of our friends lives a few kilometers away from Toledo.

 My father did not love too much the tenors of the cycling, but he often accompanied my two brothers in the cycling.

 But let us look henceforth a little farther, and we shall easily see the bell towers of the big and small Spain answering also. Here is how also.

 Of course everything is so openly, and of course Pierre is only Pierre. He is only a traitor, a renegade. Of course, Jesus does not believe inevitably everything. He suspects as well as the echo of our dreams is not still the reflection there, and as our whims are very diverse, our at least contradictory attitudes, but our purposes on earth are and remain that they are, moreover, most of our claimed objectives are vain already. Pierre is also a load, a traitor. 

  Behind the prestigious facade of the head of the church hides the traitor from the Christ, the ruined computer.

 For example, I cannot refrain from thinking that I do not live either in Hiroshima, or in Nagasaki, but I managed to integrat the other systems of thought and reflection. I do not argue by the space, but I also try to discern the common sense. And does the common sense exist here? At any rate, I understand these people.

 If I was Jesuit, I would indeed say to myself that there is not in priori of difference to beg in the street, ask for a cigarette, and stretch out a little money or give one. But I am not Jesuit, I am not Saint Thomas either, and for all that I do not believe necessarily in papal turkeys, in cars, and in big media carnival. Then, what I believe?

 And indeed I believe that god is an entity buried in each of us, but that from a generation to the other one, he makes figure of relative utopia. I believe that the alliances are partially made only in the hypocrisy, the bad faith, the obscurantism et cetera. We are too much eradicated in the long run to remain on a stable line.

 I think that we are every independents, but really also. It does not there take place either to believe in the karma. The stories exist only directly, they end directly also.

We are not all gifted children or working madmen, nor lazy people. It is not true either.

 Poor people, we are him all. Idiots and victims, we are him all also. But the universe is not as we him represent ourselves. He is separated from our projections, and well and truly. Because everything is enemy us on earth, and because communities live mostly in the separate state. Here is which reflection seems to me different.

 Each possesses the demagoguery in its mouth, each wants to win for him, but not really otherwise. There is really no standard, but the paunch and the wallet speak to the outside world, and the real world answers what he indeed wants to answer. There is inevitably no secret, but passages throughout or god misleads and combines his ewes. When the community cement is wet, our lives scatter in the nothingness.

 The work is so partially a false definition of the man, one claimed that it defines as his, because it finds nothing else in front of him, because the man is rejected if he does not defend himself, chased if he forbids himself, because he can believe only in the work and in anything else, it is all which stays in him. But there is a man.

 And when the woman becomes the handmaid of the nothing, it is its affair and its problem also.

 Of course Jesus lived, of course he has increases, and of course he made not "career" as we think of it, but of course he fast understood that it would not be possible either, and that it did not more remain than to invent the church for good. If ever the opportunity to make it would seriously have appeared.

 For the rest, it is true which our lives in all continue, which the painter was and will be again, the master was and will dead. The immigrants were and will be, welcomed. It is true that my question is reflexive also. I have my defects, god has his also, the other peoples also want to enslave it the others, they arrive there ever either. Nothing is easily made on earth. Nobody is fooled and everybody is for himself while god is for him too. In you he only serious objectives as regards the man?

 Then, I would mean to Miss Ghaza that she would doubtless be welcome to me too. As it is never known! And why not? After all, it is a fancy of the mind? What is it not rather what we call all the same " the field of the possible "? The conceivable in a way. What still falls about under the common sense in our own unconscious, this dark and perceptible breath which floods the mockery of our lives.

 The written mode possesses an appearance of logic, even if it is demolished by the antagonisms and all which comes against us. He also wants the reflection, the historic witness of the work of art, his relative understanding, at the moments different and underlying. It is also a vector of distribution and popularization. He serves a little bit also to fix the limits of the work and the accomplished task.

  Hanifia is brought in by Algeria and we went to see " Big sick body " in the space Lino Ventura from Garges on February 5th. It was not bad, very funny. She works in a residence on Celle Saint-Cloud. Important personalities are welcomed at the end of life there. Doctors among others.

  Passed for example the ex-trainer of Mari-José Perec there, died in the abandonment and the anonymity. If also finds there at present the former Italian actress, "Ana-Maria", the wife of Jean Sorel, the actor who pulled Pierre, the husband of Catherine Deneuve in Luis Bunuel's movie "Belle de Jour". I had seen it for the first time in Madrid, when we had taken me to visit the cousins of Madrid, I was quite small in the time.

 The movie was rerun there is little on the small screen. Jean Sorel, it is its actor's name, comes to visit her every day, in the second floor: " Call me Jean ", he says. But the discretion is rigorous in these establishments. Hanifia works on the third floor, but sometimes also on the second. Jean Sorel possesses a building particular boulevard Haussmann, not very far from the construction site for which I worked recently on the same boulevard as account manager with ERCC.

Ana Maria Ferreiro, whom he comes and sees every day, has been also an Italian actress, and was married to Vittorio Gasmann.

 I am always between missions of temporary work. We fell over from a world to another world. The know-how gets lost and dilutes in the time and the space. We have not more than the vestiges of the last time, witnesses of the greatness of time and of societies at the middle feudal at the middle primitive.