My first glimpse into the horrors of war did not come until after college. On a surf trip to the Basque Country of Spain, I asked a local friend what I should do since the waves were flat. He said I should go visit Guernica.
“Why would I go there?” I asked.
“It’s the city depicted in Picasso’s painting,” he said raising both his hands high in the air.
I had no idea what he was talking about. I never took art history at UC Santa Barbara. To tell the truth, all I really cared about as an undergrad was getting “some tasty waves and a cool buzz.”
View original post 464 more words