Whenever I am ambushed by an attack of the common cold my mind concentrates itself completely on the fact that my body is besieged by such an unvanquishable foe - witness this very post, for example. There is absolutely no room within my phlegm-heavy head for thoughts of any other kind, and I often wonder if René Descartes experienced a similar mental stalemate when he came down with a case of the flu: "I sneeze, therefore I am."
It is possible, I believe, that Descartes was suffering with a slight sniffle when he sat for his famous portrait by Franz Hals, now hanging in the Louvre. The artist's method of applying paint implies, if you ask me, an impending and unstoppable sense of gezundheit!
But then I have a cold myself at the moment, so I obviously would think that, because whenever I am ambushed by an attack of the common cold my mind concentrates itself completely on the fact that my body is besieged by such an unvanquishable foe - witness this very post for example. Does somebody have a tissue?
Hals made every sitter he ever painted to look either slightly sniffy or a plain wino. Kids and ladies excerpted, mercifully.
Sorry, I can offer you a thick from-scratch chicken soup only as a virtual idea...
Posted by: Tatyana | January 15, 2011 at 12:18