“San Francisco de Asis Orante” — Diego Velázquez
One — I always loved San Francisco among Catholic saints, and the affective weight of the name triples in tonnage through, two — a deeply loved, truly, sweet, saintly Neapolitan friend that goes as Francesco — or Franceschì to me, and, three — the other F. who was the terrifying amour fou of my life who got away and left me like a piece of roadkill. Look out for him in the videos I’m posting soon…among all the other beautiful Mexican faces.
I thought of posting the usual airy-fairy Giotto images of Saint Francis, the bright early Renaissance pastels of Francis preaching to the birds, images that are more a spoon-full-of-sugar and palatable for the New-Age squeamishness we call religion.
But after this past Sunday’s “CATALAN PRIDE” celebrations, I’ve been in a Counter-Reformation mood: dark, High Catholic, mysterious Spanish, Castilian and Andalusian…and am kinda immersing myself in paintings of the above and below type, with skulls and crosses and not enough blood as I would’ve wanted.
“San Francisco” — Francisco de Zurbarán
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