Gaudí tapped me on the shoulder in the nearly-finished Casa Batlló and asked me if I liked the center atrium. Having been raised in a farmer’s stucco house, I thought I’d say it was beautiful. Artists always seek beauty, right? Before I could remember how to say beautiful in Catalan, he started up again about the blue tile and was it the blue of the ocean or of the sky. And that’s when I knew he meant to find truth, and that beauty was just a house that he saw from the train that went by too fast to see.
Jill Bronfman is a professor, lawyer, non-profit worker, and parent. In recent years, her work has been accepted for publication in The Decadent Review, The Halcyone, 82 Review, The Passed Note, Storgy, Verbal, Kallisto Gaia, Main Street Rag, High Desert, Flying Ketchup, Carcosa, Genre: Urban Arts, Ripples in Space, Mothers Always Write, Talking Writing, Coffin Bell Journal, Flock, Wanderlust Journal, Quiet Lightning, and a variety of law and technical books and periodicals. She has performed her work in Poets in the Parks and LitQuake and had her story about a middle-aged robot produced as a podcast.
