Thursday, January 6, 2011

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-

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.

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

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)

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.

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.

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...



Wednesday, December 29, 2010

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




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.)

Tuesday, December 28, 2010

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

Wednesday, December 22, 2010

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.)