Monday, February 22, 2010

Madonna




Funny, everybody reminds him by a scream...but he also whispers.

people who loves people






Personal Best

me at 50




On se perd sans s’être vu,
on se voit et on se perd.
On se voit à peine,
on s’est à peine vu,
on ne sait plus,
on ne sait plus.

On se perd à peine vu.
A peine vu, on se perd.
A peine perdu, on se voit.

On ne se perd plus.

Dominique Cagnard

Obrigado a todos, os limonenses não passam sem o açúcar dos amigos.

Thank you all, we lemonese can't get by without the sugar of friends.

Sunday, February 21, 2010



old king cole




Old King Cole was a merry old soul
And a merry old soul was he;
He called for his pipe, and he called for his bowl
And he called for his fiddlers three.
Every fiddler he had a fiddle,
And a very fine fiddle had he;
Oh there's none so rare, as can compare
With King Cole and his fiddlers three

ladies of the road

Sarah







site here

jeunes


The swing

(A minha mãe guardava as coisas de costura dela, numa lata preta, com decorações em dourado e quero crer uma reprodução de uma pintura semelhante a esta na tampa. Nunca esqueci.)


Tête de jeune fille avec bonnet - Crédit Dessin: © Jean-Honoré Fragonard & Musée des Beaux-Arts et d'Archéologie de Besançon

vera vereda



Nel mezzo del cammin

Dante Alighieri

INFERNO

CANTO I (trecho inicial)

No meio do caminho desta vida
me vi perdido numa selva
escura,
solitário, sem sol e sem saída.
Ah, como armar no ar uma
figura
desta selva selvagem, dura,
forte,
que, só de eu a pensar, me
desfigura?
É quase tão amargo como a
morte;
mas para expor o bem que
encontrei,
outros dados darei da minha
sorte.
Não me recordo ao certo como
entrei,
tomado de uma sonolência
estranha,
quando a vera vereda abandonei.
(...)


Nel mezzo del camin di nostra vita
mi ritrovai per una selva oscura
che la diritta via era smarrita.
Ahi quanto a dir qual era è cosa dura
esta selva selvaggia e aspra e forte,
che nel pensier rinuova la paura!
Tant 'e amara che poco è più morte;
ma per trattar del ben ch'i' vi trovai,
dirò del altre cose ch'i' v'ho scorte.
(Opening lines of Canto 1. Translations are all literal.)

In the middle of the journey of our life,
I found myself again in [or through] a dark wood,
[so dark] that the straight way was utterly lost.
Alas how hard it is to say what it was like,
this savage and sharp and strong forest,
which even in thought renews my fear!
So bitter was it that death is little moreso;
but in order to speak of the good that I found there,
I'll tell of the other things I saw there.

Lemonese

Sou um limonense,
venho de um pequeno país, chamado Limão.
Somos doces e amargos.

Muitos adoram-nos com açúcar e tragam-nos
em saborosas limonadas, mas se por algum azar
o açúcar falta, então podemos ser
bastante amargos.

--------


I'm a lemonese
I come from a small country, by the name of Lemon.
We're bittersweet.

Most love us with sugar and have us
as splendid lemonades, but if for some misfortune
one is caught sugarless, then we can be
quite bitter.

Thursday, February 18, 2010

Tiresia




At the violet hour, when the eyes and back
Turn upward from the desk, when the human engine waits
Like a taxi throbbing waiting,
I Tiresias, though blind, throbbing between two lives,
Old man with wrinkled female breasts, can see
At the violet hour, the evening hour that strives
Homeward, and brings the sailor home from sea,

from The Waste Land by T.S. Elliot

Calling Spring



Dorothy, 2007

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

gimme shelter

les nouveaux communistes

Que veulent les “nouveaux communistes” ?

La mobilisation collective doit porter sur les communs, ce qu’on partage comme notre bien commun. L’écologie en est un, où notre substance naturelle est en jeu. La propriété intellectuelle en est un autre, qu’on ne doit pas privatiser. La biogénétique en relève aussi car il est impensable de spéculer sur notre héritage biologique. Enfin, le nouveau communisme doit lutter contre les nouvelles formes d’apartheid qui empêchent le libre usage des biens communs. La chute du mur de Berlin avait symbolisé la débâcle communiste, or les murs se dressent de partout : USA-Mexique, Israël-Palestine, entre les inclus et les exclus. Ces nouvelles frontières créent un état latent de guerre civile. Même ici, en France, avec les émeutes en banlieue parisienne, il y a trois ans. Dans cette nouvelle scène on ne peut plus isoler un agent, comme naguère la classe ouvrière, et dire avec Marx : c’est ça la singularité universelle, le groupe social particulier à même d’incarner l’émancipation de l’humanité tout entière.


L’appartenance au prolétariat ne serait plus une question de classe ?

Il y a plusieurs modes de prolétarisation. Face aux catastrophes écologiques par exemple, nous sommes tous prolétarisés, privés de notre substance naturelle. Il y a aussi quelque chose comme un prolétariat psychique. La philosophe Catherine Malabou a développé, dans Les Nouveaux Blessés, la thèse selon laquelle la figure prédominante du malaise psychologique aujourd’hui serait le personnage posttraumatique, un mort vivant psychique privé de sa propre histoire. Lorsque Marx dit : “Prolétaires de tous les pays, unissez-vous !”, il faut entendre désormais le prolétaire à tous les niveaux. Prolétaires psychiques, prolétaires écologiques, victimes de manipulations biogénétiques, bien sûr l’ouvrier traditionnel et le moderne travailleur numérique mais aussi les nouveaux pauvres et les centaines de millions de migrants...


Bio express SLAVOJ ZIZEK
Né en 1949 en Yougoslavie, Slavoj Zizek est philosophe. Ancien dissident, il fut l’élève de Jacques-Alain Miller, le gendre de Jacques Lacan. Lacanien fervent, Zizek l’est resté et entend relire Hegel et Marx à la lumière de la psychanalyse. Critique passionné de cinéma, il fait paraître, en même temps que son manifeste pour un nouveau communisme, Jacques Lacan à Hollywood et ailleurs, chez Jacqueline Chambon.

Sundays

Penso na razão porque nos dias de descanso, estão carros parados na beira dos caminhos, ao sol.
Na maior parte deles, um homem só, sentado ao volante, parece deixar passar o tempo, noutros um casal já idoso, está também assim, no fluxo do tempo.
Será que não sabem para onde ir ? Estão cansados de tudo e já não querem ver mais nada ou tão só, agrada-lhes ver o passar dos outros, lestos estrada fora, gastando os seus domingos ?


I wonder why on Sundays, there are these cars parked on the side of the roads, on the sun.
In most of them, a guy sits alone at the wheel, just letting time pass him by, in others an elderly couple sits in the same way, just letting time go by.
Is there that they don't know where to go ? Are they tired of everything and don't want to see anything else, or it's just that they just want to see others, wheezing by the road, wasting their Sundays ?

Untitled (Little James)




A child will change your life.

Men


Robert Longo (b. 1955)
Untitled from "Men In The Cities" Series (Frank)
Untitled from "Men In The Cities" Series (JoAnn)