Los romanos tenían una palabra para lo que hoy casi hemos olvidado: otium.
No era vaguear. Era apartarse del ruido diario para dedicarse a lo que de verdad alimenta: conversar, escribir y pensar.
Y lo más curioso: el trabajo se definía por oposición a él. Negotium = nec otium (“no-ocio”).
Para ellos, el negocio era la interrupción. El otium era la vida.
No one painted water like Frits Thaulow.
Just look at the river in this painting: it feels like it’s really moving, catching the light and swallowing it at the same time. He painted it in 1892 and called it Water Mill, a picture that does the hardest thing in all of art… it makes water look alive.
What made him so extraordinary is that he could paint several kinds of water at once: the pale reflections of the buildings on the surface, the green tint of the water itself, the ripples running across the top, and the rocks sitting on the bottom, all of it layered together, melting into one another the way real water actually does.
Most painters can manage one of those things. He gave you all four in a single glance.
Thaulow was Norwegian, born in 1847, and he grew up in a country made of fjords, rivers and waterfalls, and he chose to spend his life on the single hardest subject a painter can attempt, the one thing that will not sit still and will not hold a shape. And in doing so, he made the fleeting beauty of water eternal...
Ni a Xabi le gustaba ni a Mourinho le gusta Vinicius, es un jugador que lleva 3 años en los que resta más de lo que suma.
Mou llegó haciéndole la pelota y cada vez que puede hace el teatro para tenerle "contento", pero a la mínima que se pone un partido complicado le manda al banquillo porque no confia en él.
El problema aquí no es Vini (que también), es la directiva mediocre que tenemos y que decidió que era buena idea darle 6 años más de contrato a este tio, 6 eh.
Los Vinilovers lejos de admitir que está mal, han estado montando relatos de que era un doble, luego que era culpa de la novia.. y bla bla bla, la realidad es que está acabado.
Lo que nos queda por aguantar no se lo deseo ni a mi peor enemigo.
Mi pronóstico para el 29N
PP y VOX forman gobierno y se comen la peor crisis de la democracia. Inflación, recortes y corte de financiación de europa.
Sánchez encabeza la oposición, pone las calles a arder y para 2028-29 volvemos a votar.
Es el plan Sánchez. Es que es de cajón.
La mayoría PP y Vox parece inapelable.
Entonces, llegados a este punto, ¿no sería mejor una mayoría absoluta del PP, si aquellos con los que tendría que pactar son más extremistas que ellos?
Derechos como el aborto o los derechos lingüísticos no parecen molestarle tanto al PP.
El problema silencioso y que llegará en diferido.
¿Hay alguien de los que se presentan a las elecciones que tenga alguna idea realista de como abordar este asunto?
España no tiene solamente un problema de pensiones. Tiene un problema de geografía económica. Los pensionistas permanecen donde vivían; los trabajadores se concentran donde encuentran empleo.
Y eso genera un círculo complicado: una provincia pierde jóvenes → pierde cotizantes → envejece → pierde consumo, actividad y servicios → resulta todavía menos atractiva para trabajadores y empresas.
This is one of the most famous images in the world, and almost no one knows that the man who made it was over seventy, and believed he was only just getting started...
It's The Great Wave off Kanagawa, by Katsushika Hokusai, made in the early 1830s. A wall of water rises over three narrow boats, its crest breaking into claws of white foam, while the men inside bow their heads and hold on. And far in the distance, so small you might miss it, sits Mount Fuji, the most sacred mountain in Japan, framed by the curve of the wave as if it were just another pebble in the sea.
By then Hokusai had already been drawing for more than sixty years.
He had made thousands of prints and illustrated hundreds of books, more than enough for most people to call it a life's work, but he saw all of it as little more than a warm-up…
At seventy-five, he wrote that "until the age of 70, nothing I drew was worthy of notice," and that if he lived to a hundred and ten, "every dot and every stroke will be as though alive." He signed it "Old Man Mad about Painting."
He didn't make it to a hundred and ten. He died at nearly ninety, still working, still sure his best was ahead of him. And his last words, recorded by his daughter, were not about what he'd done, but about what he still wanted to do. He asked for five more years of life, "then I'll manage to become a true artist."
Most of us spend our lives believing our best years are behind us. The man who made the most famous wave in history spent his believing they hadn't arrived yet…