Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Nadie se muere jamás
"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).
Monday, January 24, 2011
Sunday, January 23, 2011
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
Friday, January 21, 2011
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
Thursday, January 20, 2011
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.
www.aminmaalouf.net
Ando a ler o seu livro "Um mundo sem regras" e é muito interessante. Recomendo.
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
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
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
Monday, January 17, 2011
Friday, January 14, 2011
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Monday, January 10, 2011
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.
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.
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.
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.
Friday, January 7, 2011
killing winter
killing winter
cold is a killer, something you can't carry inside
cold is about crystals and rigidity, cold is about wind.
Thursday, January 6, 2011
one thing leads to another
Não sei porquê a foto que tirei, faz-me lembrar a foto do Cartier-Bresson...
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-
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-
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
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.
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.
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
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
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)
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» —
«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» —
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.
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.
Monday, January 3, 2011
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.
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.
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
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.)
Die fröhliche Wissenschaft, Zweites Buch, Aphorismus 125 „Der tolle Mensch“ (KSA 3, S. 480 ff.)
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
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
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
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
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
Rothko pede silêncio (para mim este é o primeiro grande Rothko que testemunhei).
Monday, December 20, 2010
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