Avenida da Liberdade

jardins

Emil_Nolde

Coffee

C

When I awoke with cold
And looked for you, my dear,
And the dusk inward rolled,
Not light or dark, but drear,

Unabsolute, unshaped,
That no glass can oppose,
I fled not to escape
Myself, but to transpose.

I have so often fled
Wherever I could drink
Dark coffee and there read
More than a man would think

That I say I waste time
For contemplation’s sake:
In an unencumbered clime
Minute inductions wake,

Insight flows in my pen.
I know not fear nor haste.
Time is my own again.
I waste it for the waste.

Found at http://shigekuni.wordpress.com great blog !

seminal

O anjo da história

"Há um quadro de Klee intitulado Angelus Novus. Representa um anjo que parece preparar-se para se afastar de qualquer coisa que olha fixamente. Tem os olhos esbugalhados, a boca escancarada e as asas abertas. O anjo da história deve ter este aspecto. Voltou o rosto para o passado. A cadeia de factos que aparece diante dos seus olhos é para ele uma catástrofe sem fim, que incessantemente acumula ruínas sobre ruínas e lhas lança aos pés (…)".
Walter Benjamin, Gesammelte Schriften, I, 2, "Über den Begriff der Geschichte", p. 697 (tradução de João Barrento, in O Anjo da História, p. 13). 


encontrado aqui

Lisboa

deep blue

Nadie se muere jamás

                                                            25 January 1882 – 28 March 1941


"Nadie se muere jamás, siempre queda detrás el lugar desde el que viene su eco. Escucharlo es el tributo."
encontrado aqui

love this

"Like most of Hodgkin's work, this painting refers to a particular place and to memories of a specific moment. Hodgkin paints from memory, often working on a picture over the course of several years. His sweeping brushstrokes are expressive, almost violent. Although the painting is abstract, there is a dark, cave-like area in the middle of the painting, towards which the 'figures' in red paint appear to be leaning. This gives the appearance of depth. Hodgkin often paints the frame, as is the case with this picture, making the painting like an object in itself."

more here

Manhã

The sun over the river is not only pretty today,

it is very pretty.

The girl holds the boy's hand,

kisses him on the cheek and arranges his cachecol.

It is very cold.

(These are the things I choose to keep.)

morning

O sol sobre o rio não está só bonito hoje,
está muito bonito.
 A rapariga dá a mão ao rapaz,
beija-o na face e ajeita-lhe o cachecol.
Faz muito frio.
(Estas coisas escolho guardar).

XXth century blues

a bit of an explanation

inner city blues

re-usable

Water

Water

If I were called in
To construct a religion
I should make use of water.

Going to church
Would entail a fording
To dry, different clothes;

My litany would employ
Images of sousing,
A furious devout drench,

And I should raise in the east
A glass of water
Where any-angled light
Would congregate endlessly.

Philip Larkin

Mandaeism

Nem só espécies animais ou vegetais correm o risco de extinção hoje, também gente, culturas, línguas sofrem a mesma ameaça...só a nossa inteligência nos pode salvar, porque no fim morremos todos.


"Mandaeism or Mandaeanism (Mandaic: Mandaiuta, Arabic: مندائية‎ Mandā'iyya, Persian: مندائیان) is a monotheistic religion with a stronglydualistic worldview. Its adherents, the Mandaeans, revere Adam, Abel, Seth, Enosh, Noah, Shem, Aram and especially John the Baptist. They are sometimes identified with the Sabian religion, particularly in an Arabian context, but actually Mandaeism and Manichaeism seem to be independent – to some degree opposing – developments out of the mainstream Sabian religious community, which is extinct today.

Mandeans seem to be indigenous to Mesopotamia and are certainly of Pre Arab and Pre Islamic origin. They may well be related to theAssyrians who are also Semitic, Aramaic speaking indigenous Pre Arab and Pre Islamic inhabitants of Iraq. They are Semites and speak a dialect of Aramaic known as Mandaic.

Mandaeism has historically been practised primarily around the lower Karun, Euphrates and Tigris and the rivers that surround the Shatt-al-Arab waterway, part of southern Iraq and Khuzestan Province in Iran. There are thought to be between 60,000 and 70,000 Mandaeans worldwide,^[1] and until the 2003 Iraq war, almost all of them lived in Iraq.^[3] Many Mandaean Iraqis have since fled their country (as have many other Iraqis) because of the turmoil of the war and terrorism.^[4] By 2007, the population of Mandaeans in Iraq had fallen to approximately 5,000.^[3] Most Mandaean Iraqis have sought refuge in Iran with the fellow Mandians there. There has been a much smaller influx into Syria and Jordan, with smaller populations in Sweden, Australia, the United States, and other Western countries.

The Mandaeans have remained separate and intensely private—reports of them and of their religion have come primarily from outsiders, particularly from the Orientalists J. Heinrich Petermann, Nicholas Siouffi, and Lady Drower. An Anglican vicar, Rev. Peter Owen-Jones, included a short segment on a Mandaean group in Sydney, Australia, in his BBC series "Around the World in 80 Faiths.""

Wikipedia entry

le déréglement du monde aka as punch

Acho extremamente apaixonante esta ideia de seguir as palavras, de saber donde elas vêm...

www.aminmaalouf.net

Ando a ler o seu livro "Um mundo sem regras" e é muito interessante. Recomendo.

love, let us be true

"...
Ah, love, let us be true
To one another! for the world, which seems
To lie before us like a land of dreams,
So various, so beautiful, so new,
Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light,
Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain;
And we are here as on a darkling plain
Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight,
Where ignorant armies clash by night."


Matthew Arnold: Dover Beach


once again found here

Consolation

Andalucia y Sorolla

mais aqui

noite

2 pianos

a little night music

great

passeio nocturno

sometimes you feel like this

Cathedral

Late Echo

John Ashbery: Late Echo

Alone with our madness and favorite flower
We see that there really is nothing left to write about.
Or rather, it is necessary to write about the same old things
In the same way, repeating the same things over and over
For love to continue and be gradually different.

Beehives and ants have to be re-examined eternally
And the color of the day put in
Hundreds of times and varied from summer to winter
For it to get slowed down to the pace of an authentic
Saraband and huddle there, alive and resting.

Only then can the chronic inattention
Of our lives drape itself around us, conciliatory
And with one eye on those long tan plush shadows
That speak so deeply into our unprepared knowledge
Of ourselves, the talking engines of our day.

found here - Obrigado.

Heigh Ho

more foreplay

foreplay

"A lot of my pictures are foreplay but the best ones are orgasms."
Nobuyoshi Araki

traveling with the king

now read this...

Elvis-Mexico-Directions-Pearls

killing winter

killing winter

cold is a killer, something you can't carry inside
cold is about crystals and rigidity, cold is about wind.

der tag

one thing leads to another

Não sei porquê a foto que tirei, faz-me lembrar a foto do Cartier-Bresson...

from Art Inconnu

    "Study for a nude in a landscape" Jean Jacques Henner

As if the Sea should part

As if the Sea should part

And show a further Sea-

And that-a further-and the Three

But a presumption be-Of Periods of Seas-

Unvisited of Shores-

Themselves the Verge of Seas to be-

Eternity-is Those-

nós

por vezes o ar fica dentro dos pulmões.

por vezes não conseguimos desprender o ar que entrou nos nossos pulmões,
agiotas vorazes ficamos intoxicados pela volúpia da pertença, o agarrar
daquilo que não nos pertence, o ar ao ar apenas pertence.

encenamos pequenas mortes, que nada têm a ver com a morte
a Morte chega sempre pelo seu pé e anuncia-se com um arrepio gélido
imobiliza-nos a meio do gesto.

a morte liberta-nos do mundo, do agarrar e do ser agarrado.
a morte é como o ar e o mundo,
o ar é do ar, o mundo do mundo e a morte da morte.

nós somos do momento.

winglike

The Irascibles

Hedda Sterne, Portrait of Frederick Kiesler, 1954, oil on canvas, 72×42”. Courtesy The Queens Museum.


"And I believe art to be a form of knowledge. This is what one does, or what life is all about, an effort to understand."


found here

hush hush

plant lavender for good luck

I was looking for this Shakespeare quote : "And worse I may be yet: the worst is not 
So long as we can say 'This is the worst." 
— William Shakespeare (King Lear)

but fell for this one instead...
«There's a few things I've learned in life: always throw salt over your left shoulder, keep rosemary by your garden gate, plant lavender for good luck, and fall in love whenever you can» — William Shakespeare

Hope is the thing with feathers

Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.

I've heard it in the chilliest land
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.

protopoema-1

A mãe caminha rápida levando o filho pela mão, vão a caminho da estação e o comboio não espera por ninguém.
O menino caminha inclinado para trás e para o lado do brinquedo que leva na mão livre, a mãe vai decidida em frente, um vive o tempo dos sonhos, a outra vive em tempo real, com horários de comboio e fins do mês para cumprir.

le dur désir de durer

                                                     La nuit verte

dreams

"Dead Blackbirds fall from US sky"

So said BBC news a while ago

ainda do ano passado...