Spring 1990 • Vol. XII No. 2 April 1, 1990 |

The Notebooks of Pablo Picasso

I Before a rendezvous with Margaret in her apartment on the outskirts of Siena, Italy, I dropped by the pharmacy and asked for a condom. When Odette arrived in the middle of the day, I virtually tore off her clothes in front of the opened door. Odette, whose bosoms I cannot stop nuzzling, is wildly jealous of Margaret. Odette lies about her past and present but at the end of several long hours, in which much wine is consumed, I always make love to her from the rear. Oh she is seductive, wildly seductive, and after teasing me a bit she gives in. I give in. Days pass. Or so it seems. When I returned to Margaret I was brighter, better looking, more beautiful. There I painted a nude in a seaside apartment belonging to her ill lover. I stared and stared at her breasts as if love were a single thing. II I think of betrayal the moment I think of pleasure. III There is always self-deception, Louise told me last night, shirt open, cigarette hanging from her mouth. It's true

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I Before a rendezvous with Margaret in her apartment on the outskirts of Siena, Italy, I dropped by the pharmacy and asked for a condom. When Odette arrived in the […]

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