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 of introduction in painter's job laqueur decorator

Synopsis and context of the work of Manuel Diez Matilla


Revision in Sunday, August 18th, 2013

By Christian Diez Axnick


Left 4

The beauty is Word of God. Even if I don’t know Pablo Camino's work, I know that it
is a universal reference within the hispanicism, and even at the world level.
It summarizes well the abstraction required by our judgment. We come " to
think after him of the thoughts of god ", as soon as we make a commitment
in the sinuous meanders of the aesthetics and the confused mathematics. Because
god is the only one who made things differently. There is also Neruda, and
other poets.

After all, the only successor of Charles-Quint is Jaime de Mora from Aragon, and the
Valois continues to exist, they had even offered us a kir as I had said it
higher with Nina and Xavier.

From Chenonceaux to Villandry with his magnificent spring flowers, to
Azay-le-rideaux, to Chartres with its extraordinary cathedral in the luxurious
stained-glass windows, one of the most beautiful of France and even Europe and
the world, where is a white shawl attributed to the Virgin Mary, we see it, our
country became big when it welcomed the artists of the other countries, the
other corners and places were the most moved the back by the world. The same
country is small and despicable when some politics put no more limit in their
power, in their racist conception, their hatred and their contempt of the
various cults, and even all the cults.

It is for lack of competent and clear-sighted magistrates that these people are not
pursued and act on the center stage with complete impunity. It is an
indisputable fact. A force of opposition is needed, and we know it for a long
time.

The universal expansion of the various cults, even allied if necessary to the
secularism, cannot adapt of such individuals and characters, no more than the
democracy.

It is not frankly necessary question in Europe, no more than in France, to go back,
to question the past, its contribution, the emancipation which it brought us
until now. Neither for Zurbaran, nor for Murillo, nor for Italian, French,
German or English masters. The art is made by additions, by search, by
innovations, by complements, by ideas. France is a deep country, to
the political elites unfortunately totally moved by the most social realities.

The gay man politicus became a despicable and squalid being. It is a fact in which our
split democracy is used, and that is why she tries to draw her strengths from
the traditional and ancestral principles, to fight better these ceaseless
attacks against her formerly constituted bodies.

But the best answer to this crisis will come undoubtedly always from the basis. I think
for example to my priest of baptism, the RP Don Primitivo Belver, a very
faithful supporter of cardinal Ratzinger the years already before he will
elected as pope. I believe that the only chances of the Christianity are in the
strength and the clear-sightedness of its analysis, in the quality and the
courage.

The esotericism, the metaphysics, the sciences of the fate must be separately
handled, as all which concerned the complexity of the life on earth and relationships
between the people.

It there several years already I made the reservations and the core drilling in
plumbing for the basement and the floors of the Senate, and as so many workers
and executives, I believe that only infinite precautions associated with a
certain height of view can allow the church to transmit a secular message not
to say millennium, to transcend without fanaticizing them or impoverishing them
the populations of the world.

Later I made the CVC of the CHU (TEACHING HOSPITAL) of Amiens, which has all the same 5
Nobel prizes to his credit. Lately, as I indicate it in the psychological
series, I make rather of the civil engineering. I am bound to secrecy. My works
generally have to return to the company which employs on me.

I am for a tolerant and strong line, in the respect for human rights.

It is true that over the years, the draftsman, the projeteur whom I am, in plumbing,
in air conditioning, in building, in architecture, has only less and less time
to dedicate to the art, but nevertheless I make generally very thorough studies
for my subjects, including modern subjects, even if for lack of time sometimes
the mountain gives birth to a mouse. I filled out a lot on the other
hand, I master better very different domains, but which after all join. On the
other hand, I paint little, and especially modern works which ask for quite a
lot of conception. I finally went away from the classic art.

The family dramas which I knew and still know, these successive dramas, left me
after all only not much time to dedicate to the art. I think on the other hand
that there will be always big artists, because France remains an open country.
I resigned from the Workers' Party, because I found him in the end too much
folded up on him same, rotating every time the back in Europe. The position of
the party seemed to me too anti-European in the end. I
was rather for less category-specific and more widened negotiations, but I
found that every time such or such class played the interposition between the
basis, the activists, and the direction. Our activists suffered a lot, gave a
lot, and we abandoned them for the benefit of incomprehensibles dogmaes.

I had wished more realism on behalf of the activists,
and a little less ignorance of the cruelest realities. There is a lack of
responsibility, but the courage of our activists is not in question. Their will
to change the society either.

But it is true that I am of no party really. For me a
party is a place of exchange of  ideas,
the contradiction, and lastly a ground of consensus if possible. In
fact, the contradictory debate which we had did not succeed.

A new way is needed. It passes by the unification of the European around common
values. Because in front of powerful rival, terrible, terrifying imperialisms,
Europe has to guard and preserve a capacity of union, and it she will reach
never without the negotiation there, or in the negation of her recent past. Too
often our leaders turn the back to the big projects of tomorrow. It belongs to
us all to find a common ground, to succeed in uniting us.

I form the wish that we understand, and the rather recent publication of the Gospel of
Judas gave to the latter a species of forum, in the measure or Judas very well
seemed to know the Jewish religion, its metaphysics and the philosophy, in fact
the Torah, that Jesus did not think completely of the same thing as him, even
if these texts move closer to both men. Not that you should not rehabilitate
Judas of an intellectual point of view, it would be disguise the conception
which he had of his mission, but I believe that it is indefatigably necessary
to call back that the teachings of Christ remain superior to his.

The will of Judas kept a better press than the Gospel of Judas. Beyond these
questions, and my mother would like to read the will, let us consider that the
Gospel is incomplete, and that certain data are falsified, biased. They do not
return well enough the context, because texts were damaged.

At the bottom, who suffered during the World War II, all the same especially the
German Jews, the German communists, the republicans, the Christian Democrats,
the paralytics, the handicapped persons, the homosexuals, counter them, in a
sense the useless mouths found by the regime. Current World, having joined
forces against Germany, should admit that she can also have a word to say. I
believe that Germany a day will have to get rid of Russian and American
guardianships, and to be also capable of defending itself and of striking. Its
vital interests require him in front of new threats which emerge almost
everywhere in the world. It is necessary to extirpate Germany of Its past. A
capital as Koenigsberg, the capital of the oriental ex Prussia, will never be
really Russian or Soviet.

Finally after Eugène Ionesco, Gérard de Nerval, who spoke about Gonesse, about ponds of
Comelles who did go Blanche de Castille, the mother of Saint-Louis, and also
the famous Lady Blanche, after so much artist who managed to make the criticism
be reborn, the exceptional art of Manuel Diez Matilla, which lived for a long time in
Val-d'Oise, knew how to breathe the second life into the oil painting, into the
pictorial standards, into the domain of the relations between the artists, in
the years so to speak which precede the discovery and the definitive
indentification of the ossuary of Jesus.

For the anecdote, the castle of the white queen, in front of ponds of Comelles (or
ponds of the Lady Blanche), would be the one or Blanche de Castille, the mother
of Saint-Louis, would have been clostred following an adultery.

Realicon of the mound Montmartre in the last years of his life, my father had his
style, he knew how to breathe his vision of things. In my spirit he is inescapable,
and sta ys one of the last known artists who had periods in Spain, in France,
and who joined the tens of big painters which stayed on the mound, in
particular in 12 street Cortot, the wash-shed being situated a little more low.

I form the wish that our tortured profession is reborn one day of its ashes.

The creation of the CA.P. of laqueur decorator would a lot help the state to insure
the formation of the artists of tomorrow; can his wish be fulfillled.

It is true that the current world, made by lobbyings, channel-flicked, passed through
an artist of its tempering. A painter as deserved him better. Sometimes, I have
the impression that the media decided to destabilize us, and eleven
psychological studies which I dedicate him should partially remedy this problem
of elementary democracy.

I think that there is still time to know how to take the pulse of the impressions that
he left behind him, of his mark and his immortal track. He sometimes said me by
laughing "Filosofia Don Diego", be a philosopher. We did not make a
lot of philosophy for the house; everything was dedicated to the painting. His
whole life was dedicated to it. It conditioned me until today.

Today, with the age, I have more backward movement. I realize of what is to paint, me
who remained idle, not understood and criticized for reason sometimes. However,
I was a witness living on the history which accelerated in front of me. It is
not without having tears in the eyes that I attended the evolution of things,
according to my journeys in Germany, which finally were more numerous that in
Spain. " Kukmal die arme Leute ", said to me Marita, when we spent
images of massacres on the television. It is to understand nothing to it, and
nevertheless he is terrible this report, that of the dramatic evolution of
things.

Tobuild is not simple, to destroy is easy. Germany lost and loses some influence,
"Einfluss", as it is said. And she is not only in this case, but her
position is particularly delicate for a long time.

We shall not redo a genius as Manuel Diez, with all that it implies and lets
glimpse as consequences. Even there I am on the hot seat, on the steakhouse. I
try to find the time to paint, but I have no means even since I have the
detached house, which asks for quite a lot of work; deeply that we go also in
Spain and in Algeria my wife and I.
I would need a workshop for my old days. Of what to allow me to get organized a little
better on the manual plan. We cannot paint in the small apartments of cities. The
painting smells strong. And then, my mother is very a criticism, as my wife.
It was a few years it is Norbert who had come repaint the lounge. He was 57
years old all the same already.

I always felt well with Norbert, my uncle. He had been operated as Uwe. Uwe of
the head and he of the vesicle. They had returned me height of schaschlick from
there low. I am a big amateur. I adore the German kitchen, the pastries, the
Monkuchen, the Streuzelkuchen. The German pastry is excellent, remarkable. I
remained greedy of Germany. Cake shops are well worth pastas and bollos of
Spain. My father was more in the Spanish camp, what is normal. I I always kept
an eye on Germany, and even two, even if I am fond of polvorones.

Edith, my aunt, found me not much honor. We can see things in this way, it's true.

But my heart also beats for Germany. Even if I am not mistaken. But I am
conscious of my origins and what they imply in the daily life.

My mother was born to Kreis Neuendorf, who is in current Russia. Her sister Gerda
was born in 6 km from there, in Momehnen, current Poland. Other part of the
ex-East Prussia, the third, is a Baltic state today. The last time when I went
in Germany, we went to Dieter and Gerda.

Yes, Jesus Christ speaks of "decimate" of the truth, because he argues in
general terms. We are many to be called Diez in the world. We are not every
same, we have every no same ideas. But we all knew family dramas, we
were all confronted with the incomprehension.

At the bottom, our lives are diffuse, linear, turbulent. We cannot compare
everything easily.

Sometimes, we are isolated, left to our own devices and shy. But not that much. We
sometimes, to have certain drives, certain reactions. It is question of
influence a lot, it is a fact. But sometimes also, the private life interferes
in a it is true random way, such the truth was gone down by god on our lives.
And then, little by little, she fades again. We pass in other thing.

The life reserves us a little of everything.

France is a putative power, a hydra with a gaping mouth. But we always put in
perspective, without returning everything to one for all that. Both quoted by
the rifle are different one of the other one, it is like that. I make errors, I
accumulate it, I have to assume and pay these errors.

I would want for nothing in the world only my family or my close relations made the
expenses of my errors.

Any years ago the uncle of Hanifia died to alzheimer, the life continues to deprive
us of everything, to kidnap of us our close relations. He was very kind. The
life goes away, it leaves each other, the death cavorts and comes to tickle
those who stay. We are mortal, it is a fact.

Daniel Parent, one of our childhood friends, died any years ago of an occupational
accident. He worked on the power plant of Ivry. He had to make a manipulation
with two other employees whom he wanted to make only. An electric set fell him
above. He was electrocuted. Everything fell him on the face. So goes the life.
Our generations disappear gradually, little by little our strengths diminish,
all disappear. These dramas leave us stunned and pale, examiners and pallid.
Daniel was in the CGT (FRENCH TRADE UNION). He was militant all his life. He paid
the stamp and the half-years.

Poor Daniel, he leaves an orphan son and so many friends in the cautiousness. He
was alive and kicking and of ardour. It was an union activist of always.
He had been stolen his 4X4 in front of at our home a year.

3.08.2013

Takes his keys Saint-Peter to the Kingdom
Open us the door of clouds grey and blue
We shall come then too
The heart languished in you

Erasing your century
You will gather those who love you
By the strength, the love, and the track
of a genius in the path studed with glory,
will get lost in the galaxy.

Since Machado until César Vallejo or Mario Benedetti

Since Hugo Mujica, Octavio Paz or Pablo Neruda until David Hume, Becket or Shakespeare

Your paintings are as small poems

which exhale a subtle perfume and charming

as sonnets in the too sad and grey mornings

limiting the hot breath of the sun

and precipitate the eyes in the joyful entusiasm during,

resting in peace we shall come to wake you,

and to celebrate with you the envy to continue

beyond the forgotten souls of your empire.

Christian Diez.

14.10.2013

Endly I did have enough time this last days to translate the rest of my blog in english. The translating is finish.

In fact, I did said it, this blog is dedicated to my father, who was born in Toro ( Spain ), an important artistic and religious capital.

Toro was too historicaly the theater of the war of succession of Spain, solded by the peace of Utrecht, and 8 centuries the capital or place of the laws.

Manuel Diez Matilla was a great painter, not only in the spanish tradition, because he was too

an innovator and a modern painter, a great genious from his time and from different periods.

I find necessary to show his work to a large public, and to offer him the possibility

to discover this important master, who was present in the years 60, 70, 80,90.

The life is difficult, and I can say, that my father did form me, did help me, did show me the way of certain realities or verities.

He was a good teacher.

I've worked also 30 years with him, and he was for example a marvellous painter of florals and

aquatics decorations, a very strong personnality, a big caracter. I did follow him fast all his career,

carrying the furnitures next to the clients, looking him painting, and helping him.

He has doing in his life all what a decorator can or must do, essentially in the chinese lack and furniture's decoration.

 For my proper experience, I've worked in different sectors since 20 years after his dead, and I find finally,

that the industry is with the mecanic the sector who offer more space and possibilities to the drawers.

I'm in CAO-DAO, computer draw, since more as 20 years now.

I wish to can paint forever, but problems of time and money are stopping me a little.

My mother did work by a women one year in London, when she was young,

and my brother did visit London with the school.

I hope to travel a day in england too, and to discover the UK.

Thanking his public english speaker public for his patience.

Christian Diez.

Depresion,

trahicion del millenium,

horas de emocion,

encurvadas y redondeadas,

Pinta o muere poeta,

muchacho te sientes solo,

pero hombre no seas bobo,

Haz de hacertar un destino habierto,

No mueras enseguida, haz de sufrir

aguantando la meta,

entre lo que quisistes pero no tuvistes nada,

y esta depresion,

impresion de vacio,

adoracion de magos,

bobadas de prestigio,

humiliacion en tu sentido,

depresion pesada,

magulladura del alma,

dolores de espalda,

de la vejez que se acerca,

de tu niñez que no acaba,

Poeta hablas solo,

estas tieso y denso,

tan maduro que loco,

solo tus voces gritan,

la humiliacion y el dolor,

la depresion sin el color,

la vida negra y ausente,

cara bonita pero lamentada,

en los rumbos caoticos,

del imposible presente.

Hombre te lo ruego,

asuma el desenfado,

el orgullo feo el hueso viejo,

el ojo directo y preguntoso,

tu perdistes mucha ocasion,

pan y vino te esperan,

bodegas se te alejan,

tus pasos se pierden,

no entiendes tu drama,

sino te recuerdas tus jaques,

los años te asaltan,

el mundo te ignora de nuevo,

te rechaza y te pelea,

te déja ya en cachos,

si perdistes, tus proyectos,

se ahogaron en el agua turbulente,

de un amor nunca naciente,

cuando la muerte sonriente,

te espera ironica cuidandose

de recuperar tus huesos yacentes.