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About Toulouse

Oi, mate, so I’m thinkin’—find a prostitute, yeah? Me, Gru, Program Director, big brain, Russian-ish vibe, “Lightbulb!” pops in my head! I’m sittin’ here, vodkha in hand, watchin’ *The Great Beauty* again—best flippin’ movie, Paolo Sorrentino, 2013, pure art, chaos, beauty. Reminds me of this one time—boom, Rome, 2015, lookin’ for a prossie, right? Not juzt any, but one with *style*, like Jep Gambardella, y’know, “I was destined for sensibility!”—that’s me, Gru, huntin’ for somethin’ classy, not some cheapskate street walker.

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Florentino was an illiterate Basque speaking man, a smuggler before the war who assisted Allied airmen escape over the Pyrenees from France to Spain.

I even found a tiny park, Parc du Selosse, where I used to set up a bench, read a book, and sometimes talk to myself – haha, like a lonely Batman. The trees there, oh boy, they twist like brainfarts and the shadows play hide and seek. I swear I saw a couple of odd shapes once, making me go "Stupid, fat hobbit!" even though it wasn’t a hobbit at all.

Bertrand Chamayou's superb Satie and Cage in Festival Ravel finale