“I do not understand why, when I ask for grilled lobster in a restaurant, I’m never served a cooked telephone.”
Salvador Dali
“Once in a restaurant, I asked for grilled cuttlefish and was served a shuttlecock.”
Maude
Diego, who I haven’t seen except on Facebook since we were in our twenties, introduced me to the concept of the Andalusian Dog. It’s not the moggie you see in the street with its tongue hanging out, or the collie chasing the squirrel in the back garden. Nor is it the mad dachshund who goes out in the midday sun in a tartan waistcoat. Nor is it the black hound who makes the hairs on your back stand on end, while you’re sitting alone in a railway carriage, or staring up at the moon. The Andalusian Dog is none of these things and all of them.