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The house oI Port Lligat: "Our house has grown exactly like a real biological structure, by

cellular budding. To each new growth in our liIe corresponds a new cell: a room. The nucleus
was the paranoiac delirium oI Lidia, who made us a giIt oI the Iirst cell. Its blastopore was Dali's
genius. Its divine protein was Gala; it is thanks to her that the whole rest oI the structure was able
to proliIerate. Thanks to Galadesoxy-ribonucleic acid, the memory oI our structure, instead oI
sinking into the void oI romantic tragedy, rises to the classic category oI the royal Ieast."
-Salvador Dali, The World OI Salvador Dali

August the 1
st

Tonight, Ior the Iirst time in at least a year, I am looking at the starry sky. It seems small. Am I
getting bigger or is the universe shrinking? Or a combination oI both? How diIIerent Irom the
painIul contemplation oI the stars in my adolescence. They overwhelmed me because oI what
my romanticism made me believe at the time: the unIathomable and inIinite cosmic immensity. I
was possessed by melancholy because all my emotions were undeIinable. Whereas now my
emotion is so deIinable that I could make a cast oI it. At the same time, I decide to order one in
plaster that will represent with maximum accuracy the emotion prompted by the contemplation
oI the celestial vault.

I am grateIul to modern science Ior corroborating by its researches that most pleasant, sybaritic,
and anti-romantic notion that 'space is Iinite'. My emotion has the perIect shape oI a Iour-buttock
continuum, the tenderness oI the very Ilesh oI the universe. When I go to bed, dog-tired aIter my
day's work, I try to preserve my emotion even in bed, Ieeling increasingly reassured and telling
myselI that, when all is said and done, the universe - expansible, even with all the matter it
contains, however abundant it may seem - is nothing but a simple and straightIorward matter oI
adding up marbles. I am so happy to see the cosmos Iinally reduced to these reasonable
proportions that I might almost rub my hands iI that abominable gesture were not typically anti-
Dali. BeIore going to sleep, instead oI rubbing my hands I shall kiss them with the purest
enjoyment, repeating to myselI that the universe, like every material thing, looks petty and
narrow iI compared, Ior instance, with the breadth oI a Iorehead painted by Raphael.

the 20
th

They have Iinally delivered the plaster cast oI my emotion and I decide to take a photograph oI
this Iour-buttock continuum. There are some Iriends down in the garden, and then a society
woman climbs up to where I am. I look at her - I look at all women - and suddenly I have an
insight: the person who is now beIore me, turning her back to me, has two oI the very buttocks oI
my continuum. I beg her to come closer to the cast and I tell her that she has my vision oI the
universe at the bottom oI her back. Would she consent to my taking a photograph? In i " the most
natural manner she accepts, pulls up her dress, and while she Mi'' leans over the little wall to chat
with Iriends who are on the terrace below and have no idea what is going on, she oIIers me a
view oI her buttocks to enable me to compare the cast and the very Ilesh oI that cast. The Four
Buttock Continuum - Five

When I have Iinished she straightens her dress and hands me a lhin!!om`t9 A V"9in'
magazine which she has been keeping in her bag Ior me. It is an old magazine, dirty and tattered,
in which I Iind, with an intoxication that can be imagined, a reproduction oI a geometric Iigure
identical with my cast: a surIace with a complete and constant curve obtained by experiments
with the mechanical segmentation oI a drop oI oil.

So many typically Dalinian events in so short a time conIirm my conclusion that I have reached
the summit oI my genius.