Pinned on my desk is a Dali painting which repeats the image of Venus di Milo against the background of a bullfight, littered with flies. There is something that draws me to this image again and again. I don’t know what it is … the myriad dots that create the a dreamy coastal inlet with the cliff face forming the decaying skull of a wounded bull; the lonely boy, holding a horn; the face of Venus, the woman who lost her arms because she didn’t brush her hair (according to my mum); the Spanish colonnades.
There is something magical about this image.
Maybe it is inspirational. Maybe it fulfils my subconscious desires.
I looked away from Dali’s image and watched Manic Miner delve into his nostril for ten minutes.
Maybe I’m just bored.