a preto e branco com uns laivos de prata

galeria-sao-mamede-lisboa.html

Christmas eve 2010

España 2

arlequin-con-espejo-de-picasso

España

goya_black_paintings

A gaia ciência

„Wohin ist Gott? rief er, ich will es euch sagen! Wir haben ihn getödtet, – ihr und ich! Wir Alle sind seine Mörder! Aber wie haben wir diess gemacht? Wie vermochten wir das Meer auszutrinken? Wer gab uns den Schwamm, um den ganzen Horizont wegzuwischen? Was thaten wir, als wir diese Erde von ihrer Sonne losketteten? Wohin bewegt sie sich nun? Wohin bewegen wir uns? Fort von allen Sonnen? Stürzen wir nicht fortwährend? Und rückwärts, seitwärts, vorwärts, nach allen Seiten? Giebt es noch ein Oben und ein Unten? Irren wir nicht wie durch ein unendliches Nichts? Haucht uns nicht der leere Raum an? Ist es nicht kälter geworden? Kommt nicht immerfort die Nacht und mehr Nacht? […] Gott ist todt! Gott bleibt todt! Und wir haben ihn getödtet! Wie trösten wir uns, die Mörder aller Mörder?“
 Die fröhliche Wissenschaft, Zweites Buch, Aphorismus 125 „Der tolle Mensch“ (KSA 3, S. 480  ff.)

day after Christmas

Politness

The Polite Man. — "He is so polite!" — Yes, he 
has always a sop for Cerberus with him, and is 
so timid that he takes everybody for Cerberus, 
even you and me, — that is his " politeness." 

THE JOYFUL WISDOM

the road

“We follow the turn of the road, and it leads us on.”


jornal entry, 1949

Feliz ano novo - Happy new year

Lá fora continua o grande espectáculo das nuvens, abrigados dos elementos esquecemos o tempo, enquanto o tempo se esquece de nós.
Põe um pé na porta, pede uma mão...ainda vamos a tempo de escolher e lançar a pedra perfeita.

A pedra perfeita voará sobre a água e antes de se afogar nela fará 8 peixinhos ligeiros, deixando círculos a alastrar até ao infinito.
O universo, o universo é onde cabe tudo.

(Happy new year

Outside the great show of clouds goes on, protected from the elements we forget about time, as time forgets about us.

Leave a foot in the door, ask for someone to give you a hand...we still have time to choose and throw the perfect stone.

The stone will fly over the water and before it drowns in it, will achieve 8 light fishies, leaving circles going on into the infinite.

The universe, the universe is where everything fits.)

silêncio

                                                            Gren Maroon - Rothkoreen on Maroon - Rothko

Rothko pede silêncio (para mim este é o primeiro grande Rothko que testemunhei).

Atalanta and Hippomenes

                                              Atalanta and Hippomenes 1612

DA2, Salamanca

bach

approaching a city

"Approaching a City conveys a paradox of contemporary life. The railroad made faraway places accessible to ordinary people, but it also made those places less distinctive."
http://www.phillipscollection.org/research/american_art/artwork/Hopper-Approaching_City.htm

sway

Paisagem

S/título, 2005/06. Óleo s/tela, 190x250 cm

we know, we know...now, now

Tribute to Alexander McQueen by Nick Knight, music by Björk from SHOWstudio on Vimeo.

Braço de Prata

À saída da estação de Braço de Prata a posição elevada do comboio permite ao passageiro uma visão privilegiada sobre o estuário do Tejo. A Norte, a ponte Vasco da Gama delimita o estuário, que se estreita para  Sul. Em frente, o que em dias de névoa passa por um mar, é hoje, nesta manhã de Outono tardio, um estudo em tons de cinzento - mais claro, quase transparente o do céu, depois mais escuro, quase negro, o da Serra da Arrábida, entre esta e a prata do rio - a outra margem.

O dia. Os dias passam.

Na viagem de regresso vi um velho reflectido na janela do comboio. Com um meio sorriso devolvia-me o olhar, pensei que a sua boa disposição seria devida à tensão erótica evidente, quase palpável, partilhada pelo jovem casal sentado em frente a mim.
Com um calafrio percebi que o velho era eu. O velho já sou eu.

Curtas viagens fazem uma vida longa.

I'm liking Haydn more and more...

The fate of the animals

Franz Marc (1880–1916)
Title	Deutsch: Tierschicksale English: The fate of the animals
Date	1913
Medium	Deutsch: Leinwand
Dimensions	Deutsch: 196 × 266 cm
Current location	Deutsch: Kunstmuseum Basel
	Deutsch: Basel
Notes	Deutsch: Künstlergruppe »Der Blaue Reiter«

rainy day off (pela margem do Tejo)

oddities...or reality keeps outscoring fiction

"Like any good pop diva, Lady Gaga is constantly reinventing herself. First she tried the club kid chic look, then took to pyrotechnic hosiery – but it looks like her newest incarnation is military-themed: she was the commander-in-chief of an all-male naked army in her video for “Alejandro,” and soon after she appeared on the cover of the General McChrystal-ousting issue of Rolling Stone with heavy ammunition on her chest. And now a new implication in the developing Wikileaks investigation is adding some credibility to her army shtick.
The New York Times revealed that Pfc. Bradley E. Manning, the 22-year-old soldier being charged with leaking classified intelligence information to Wikileaks, used discs disguised as Lady Gaga CDs to smuggle the information – including 150,000 plus diplomatic cables, secret videos, and a PowerPoint presentation – from secure military computers.
Logistically, how did Manning use Gaga to pull of his data heist? Since November 2008, computers operated by the Pentagon or the armed services have had their external hard drive portals disabled to prevent occurrences like this. However, Defense Department personnel are still permitted to use the CD players that are built into the computers, and Manning popped in a disc capable of holding data files and told everyone he was just a devoted Little Monster. To make his story more believable, Manning “hummed and lip-synced to Lady Gaga songs” to appear as though he was actually listening to music rather than covertly stealing government records.
According to the article, “Another line of inquiry is expected to look at whether digital red flags were raised, or should have been raised, by Private Manning’s actions.” It’s funny that in this day and age, a soldier singing aloud to Lady Gaga while fiddling around on an army computer chock full classified government data is not considered to be suspicious at all until he gets caught stealing top-secret information."

found here

Nu

Adorei este nu, do arquitecto e pintor Frederico George, pode ser visto no Museu Municipal Abel Manta em Gouveia

Palm Springs, 1960

about the book

avós

(- Vou fazer qualquer coisa irracional e desligar-me da máquina - só para provar que sou humano...)

O céu exibe no azul cristalino os rastos dos jactos do dia, está muito frio
as avós regressam a casa depois de um dia na apanha da azeitona.
Acendem os fogos nas salas, para tornar a noite suportável,
olham para a chama, como se não a vissem,
como se fossem apenas um espelho.
Dentro do peito armazenam o calor que  usarão depois como força motriz.
não sabes nada delas só por olhares para elas, sentadas no chão a tagarelar,
a fazer o que há para fazer.
Tens de seguir as teias que elas tecem, entender como seguram o mundo,
como as aldeias morrem com elas.


(Pensas no fogo que tudo transforma em cinza e na força que esmaga os frutos e nos dá os seus sucos, pensas no vinho e no azeite. Pensas que na origem de tudo existe uma vontade, um querer claro e preciso, aguçado como uma navalha. Pensas - escondido do frio e do escuro, opado como um pão.)

Gaga

You say you are an acute assessor of fame. You of all people must know, then, that celebrity is fleeting. Doesn’t that scare the bejesus out of you?
Not in the book of Gaga.
Sorry?
In the book of Gaga, fame is in your heart, fame is there to comfort you, to bring you self-confidence and worth whenever you need it. I want my fans to love themselves. It’s almost like I want to hypnotize them so when they hear my music they love themselves instantly.

all here

In the Midwest

In the Midwest

by Edward Hirsch

Edward Hirsch

He saw the iron wings of daybreak struggling

to rise over the warehouses stacked along the river.

Rotting wharves and bulkheads. Dead tracks   

leading to railroad yards on the edge of nowhere,

the sun toiling in gray smoke on the horizon.   

As if God had crumbled bits of charcoal

in the air and dusted the earth with ashes—

Eyelids of silt, thou shalt not open!

Scourge of asphalt and carbon, of slag heaps   

and oil-stained piers, of soot and smog . . .

He was not a prophet of revision and announcement,   

not the biblical kind, like Habakkuk or Amos,

and yet he wandered through the heartland alone   

and saw the shattered spine of a bridge

collapsing in Gary; he saw the ruined breath   

and gaping windows of a factory choking

in Youngstown; he saw the stench of history   

seeping out of Sandusky and Calumet City . . .

Stops on the highway, stains on a dark map.

Foundries, industrial waste. Stripped quarries,

stripped land, what we’ve done to the sky

curdling over two drunks sleeping on an embankment

and waking up to a late day in the empire.

He kept speaking of Byzantium, of Constantinople.

He saw gulls feasting on garbage.

He saw the gouged bodies of the unborn.

Edward Hirsch, “In the Midwest” from Earthly Measures. Copyright © 1994 by Edward Hirsch. Used by permission of Alfred A. Knopf, a division of Random House, Inc.

Nos mercados impera o mau tempo...

Um grande navio de cruzeiro, estava atracado no cais hoje. Uma chuva miudinha acentuava um frio que nos entrava pelos ossos...para nós os que descíamos do comboio e chegávamos à cidade naquele instante era um dia como outro qualquer, frio e chato...
Para os do paquete, seria um dia diferente - um novo dia, numa nova cidade, será que o sol brilha sempre nos navios de cruzeiro ?

E nos mercados ? Nos mercados impera o mau tempo e as nuvens de borrasca não cessam de se avolumar sobre os céus da Europa, por enquanto vão carregando na periferia, mas tão certo como a chuva cair do céu para a terra vão carregar também no centro.

Primeiro os bárbaros caíram sobre os restos do império decadente, em orgias sem nexo devastaram as suas capitais outrora opulentas e requintadas, quando os festins terminarem e a noite imperar sobre as terras os deuses obscuros de crenças nocturnas terão o seu tempo de novo. O sangue e o suor, a dor, só com muita dor construiremos tudo de novo.

Duvidamos das gerações presentes e das que virão, duvidamos do seu estoicismo e da sua garra, o tempo as moldará, como o fogo e a força moldam o ferro e o aço. O tempo.

O navio de cruzeiro parece uma incongruência aqui na rua, uma ruína já, mas move-se, move-se ainda e seduz com o som das suas sirenes. Vai partir, vai partir...

Prosperity

be yourself tonite

a força das nossas pernas

deliver me

                                        And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.
                                                                         Matthew 6:13

Water

Wendell Berry: Water
I was born in a drouth year. That summer
my mother waited in the house, enclosed
in the sun and the dry ceaseless wind,
for the men to come back in the evenings,
bringing water from a distant spring.
veins of leaves ran dry, roots shrank.
And all my life I have dreaded the return
of that year, sure that it still is
somewhere, like a dead enemy’s soul.
Fear of dust in my mouth is always with me,
and I am the faithful husband of the rain,
I love the water of wells and springs
and the taste of roofs in the water of cisterns.
I am a dry man whose thirst is praise
of clouds, and whose mind is something of a cup.
My sweetness is to wake in the night
after days of dry heat, hearing the rain.