tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23019245945739606222024-02-07T19:27:32.359+00:00ophi_3“Live as if you were to die tomorrow. Learn as if you were to live forever.”
Mahatma GandhiUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger304125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2301924594573960622.post-20097859838817425282011-07-06T00:12:00.015+01:002013-08-02T00:39:40.977+01:00Thirty_Three<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<iframe width="420" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/AYSbztCCTlA" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe><br />
<i>speak to me in a language i can hear</i><br />
<i>humor me before i have to go</i><br />
<i>deep in thought i forgive everyone</i><br />
<i>as the cluttered streets greet me once again</i><br />
<i>i know i can't be late, supper's waiting on the table</i><br />
<i>tomorrow's just an excuse away</i><br />
<i>so I pull my collar up and face the cold, on my own</i><br />
<i>the earth laughs beneath my heavy feet</i><br />
<i>at the blasphemy in my old jangly walk</i><br />
<i>steeple guide me to my heart and home</i><br />
<i>the sun is out and up and down again</i><br />
<i>i know i'll make it, love can last forever</i><br />
<i>graceful swans of never topple to the earth</i><br />
<i>and you can make it last, forever you</i><br />
<i>you can make it last, forever you</i><br />
<i>and for a moment i lose myself</i><br />
<i>wrapped up in the pleasures of the world</i><br />
<i>i've journeyed here and there and back again</i><br />
<i>but in the same old haunts i still find my friends</i><br />
<i>mysteries not ready to reveal</i><br />
<i>sympathies i'm ready to return</i><br />
<i>i'll make the effort, love can last forever </i><br />
<i>graceful swans of never topple to the earth</i><br />
<i>tomorrow's just an excuse</i><br />
<i>and you can make it last, forever you</i><br />
<i>you can make it last, forever you </i></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2301924594573960622.post-33570038291932620792011-06-14T02:27:00.015+01:002011-06-14T02:27:00.537+01:00As Coisas XII/XIII<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><b>Hagiologias <a href="http://pt.wikipedia.org/wiki/Iconoclastia">Iconoclastas</a></b>: Concluo aqui um capítulo destas apresentações a partir da construção feita de intimidades e desta vez é com imagens picto_esculptóricas que me acompanharam; primeiro um semi-busto do <a href="http://www.facebook.com/pages/Sagrado-cora%C3%A7%C3%A3o-de-maria/157691314254527?sk=wiki">sagrado coração</a> que sempre transportei, lascado do lado esquerdo, deixando ver por um pequeno orifício redondo, o seu oco interior; entretanto muitos passaram – de <a href="http://pt.wikipedia.org/wiki/S%C3%A3o_Gon%C3%A7alo_de_Amarante">gonçalo</a> a <a href="http://pt.wikipedia.org/wiki/B%C3%A1rbara_%28santa%29">bárbara</a>, da senhora da abadia à do <a href="http://pt.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nossa_Senhora_do_Vencimento">vencimento</a>, de <a href="http://pt.wikipedia.org/wiki/Catarina_de_Alexandria">catarina</a> a miguel, das dores à sameiro, da <a href="http://pt.wikipedia.org/wiki/Trindade_%28cristianismo%29">santíssima trindade</a> ao são <a href="http://pt.wikipedia.org/wiki/S%C3%A3o_Bartolomeu">bartolomeu</a>, de jorge a <a href="http://www.museu-saoroque.com/">roque</a> – termino nesta casa o périplo com <a href="http://pt.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nossa_Senhora_de_F%C3%A1tima">fátima</a> sempre iluminada a meus olhos, aguardando um dia a sua taumaturgia. Esta, como tantas outras <a href="http://pt.wikipedia.org/wiki/Legenda_%C3%81urea">lendas áureas</a>, povoam o meu universo <a href="http://pt.wikipedia.org/wiki/Treze">místico</a>.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUJokBwJpHDEsX7v73ZK1KfGBQ4GLNKkl-69sXNp4JogShDRANyoiQnzVMUEWJgyFBqdNh_YZXhG7zpMZ5nWtwQY1aVzoR2r5fFSKVxoHgk7KlMnxAegVwdRbcljmkxJZlwAu4BUDU1Ulg/s1600/che-santo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUJokBwJpHDEsX7v73ZK1KfGBQ4GLNKkl-69sXNp4JogShDRANyoiQnzVMUEWJgyFBqdNh_YZXhG7zpMZ5nWtwQY1aVzoR2r5fFSKVxoHgk7KlMnxAegVwdRbcljmkxJZlwAu4BUDU1Ulg/s1600/che-santo.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="PT">Como disse <a href="http://pt.wikipedia.org/wiki/Che_Guevara">Che</a> </span>"Há que endurecer-se, mas sem jamais perder a ternura.", <span style="font-size: x-small;">hoje, no 83º aniversário do seu nascimento.</span></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2301924594573960622.post-28658367661107237492011-06-11T23:01:00.014+01:002011-06-11T23:01:00.454+01:00Only the Truth<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div style="text-align: right;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="25" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/wf_3LgoOpCI" width="425"></iframe></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Únicamente la Verdad - Part1</span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: right;"><i>Salieron de San Isidro procedentes de Tijuana,</i></div><div style="text-align: right;"><i>traian la llanta del carro repletas de hierba mala..</i></div><div style="text-align: right;"><i><a href="http://youtu.be/xSNYaZXQud8">Eran Emilio Barela... Y Camelia la Texana...</a></i></div><div style="text-align: right;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="text-align: right;"><i>Pasaron por San Clemente, los paro la emigracion,</i></div><div style="text-align: right;"><i>les pidio sus documentos, les dijo de donde son?</i></div><div style="text-align: right;"><i>Ella era San Antonio.. Una hembra de corazon...</i></div><div style="text-align: right;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="text-align: right;"><i>Una hembra si quiere a un hombre por el puede dar la vida,</i></div><div style="text-align: right;"><i>pero hay que tener cuidado, si es hembra se siente herida,</i></div><div style="text-align: right;"><i><a href="http://carmentellez.com/unicamentepremiere_000.htm">la traicion y el contrabando...</a> Son cosas incompartidas..</i></div><div style="text-align: right;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="text-align: right;"><i><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/E2kMMePZrBc" width="425"></iframe></i></div><div style="text-align: right;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="text-align: right;"><i>A los Angeles llegaron, a Jaliguanes se pasaron.</i></div><div style="text-align: right;"><i>En un callejon oscuro, las cuatro llantas cambiaron</i></div><div style="text-align: right;"><i>hay entregaron la hierba, y hay tambien les pagaron</i></div><div style="text-align: right;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="text-align: right;"><i>Emilio dice a Camelia, hoy quedas por despedida</i></div><div style="text-align: right;"><i>con la parte que te toca tu puedes reacer tu vida,</i></div><div style="text-align: right;"><i>yo me voy pa' San Francisco, con la dueña de mi vida...</i></div><div style="text-align: right;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="text-align: right;"><i>Sonaron siete balazos Camelia a Emilio mataba</i></div><div style="text-align: right;"><i>la policia solo ayo una pistola tirada,</i></div><div style="text-align: right;"><i>del dinero y de Camelia...</i></div><div style="text-align: right;"><i><a href="http://www.jornada.unam.mx/2010/03/08/index.php?section=cultura&article=a11n1cul">Nunca mas se supo nada.</a></i></div><div style="text-align: right;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: right;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="25" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/_c70WQ68KVg" width="425"></iframe></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Únicamente la Verdad - Part2</span></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2301924594573960622.post-73813952808376725462011-06-09T01:53:00.009+01:002011-06-09T01:53:00.540+01:00Buried_Knife<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><i>Can I explain this to you? Your eyes</i><br />
<i>are entrances the mouths of caves</i><br />
<i>I issue from wonderful interiors</i><br />
<i>upon a blessed sea and a fine day,</i><br />
<i>from inside these caves I look and dream.</i><br />
<i><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="217" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/wcv3v6XfEvM" width="250"></iframe></i><br />
<i>Your hair explicable as a waterfall</i><br />
<i>in some black liquid cooled by legend</i><br />
<i>fell across my thought in a moment</i><br />
<i>became a garment I am naked without</i><br />
<i>lines drawn across through morning and evening.</i><br />
<i><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="217" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/gKhjaGRhIYU" width="250"></iframe></i><br />
<i>And in your body each minute I died</i><br />
<i>moving your thigh could disinter me</i><br />
<i>from a grave in a distant city:</i><br />
<i>your breasts deserted by cloth, clothed in twilight</i><br />
<i>filled me with tears, sweet cups of flesh.</i><br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="217" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/-WhQ5TiBHVk" width="250"></iframe><br />
<i>Yes, to touch two fingers made us worlds</i><br />
<i>stars, waters, promontories, chaos</i><br />
<i>swooning in elements without form or time</i><br />
<i>come down through long seas among sea marvels</i><br />
<i>embracing like survivors in our islands.</i><br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="217" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/617ANIA5Rqs" width="250"></iframe><br />
<i>This I think happened to us together</i><br />
<i>though now no shadow of it flickers in your hands</i><br />
<i>your eyes look down on ordinary streets</i><br />
<i>If I talk to you I might be a bird</i><br />
<i>with a message, a dead man, a photograph.</i><br />
<br />
<a href="http://theknife.net/">The Knife</a> - <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Keith_Douglas">Keith Douglas</a> (no sexagésimo_sétimo aniversário da sua morte)</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2301924594573960622.post-80412630577995665222011-06-05T02:37:00.000+01:002011-06-05T02:37:00.560+01:00Rubis_Nopces<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">Post nº 300</span></span></div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"> </span>S)he says "wake up, it's no use pretending"<br />
I'll keep stealing, breathing her|him.<br />
Birds are leaving over autumn's ending<br />
One of us will die inside these arms<br />
Eyes wide open, naked as we came<br />
One will spread our ashes 'round the yard<br />
<br />
S)he says "If I leave before you, darling<br />
Don't you waste me in the ground"<br />
I lay smiling like our sleeping children<br />
One of us will die inside these arms<br />
Eyes wide open, naked as we came<br />
One will spread our ashes round the yard</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="225" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/1xGlRnYSRG8" width="250"></iframe></div><i>"The story of <a href="http://artist.christies.com/Pierre-et-Gilles-1976-55065.aspx">Pierre et Gilles</a> - Pierre Commoy and Gilles Blanchard - bears the same fairytale characteristics as much of their work: the young men, both born in the early </i>1950<i>s in western France, fell madly in love in the mid-</i>1970<i>s after meeting at a party and going home together.<br />
They soon began collaborating artistically, Pierre bringing the fruits of his formal training as a photographer, Gilles bringing his talents as a painter. Together, they have created a prolific body of work that now numbers into the several hundreds, including several flamboyant self-portraits.<br />
In today's world, where unearthly visual effects are increasingly achieved with a computer, it may seem as though <a href="http://www.rioecultura.com.br/expo/expo_resultado2.asp?expo_cod=1390">Pierre et Gilles</a>'s images are further results of digital dream-weaving. But make no mistake about it: their works are one of a kind, handmade objects, a fact that belies their frequent reproduction for use as magazine covers, advertisements, CD covers, and the like.<br />
Artifice is central in <a href="http://www.jeudepaume.org/index.php?page=document&idArt=257&lieu=1&idDoc=405">Pierre et Gilles</a>'s work: their human subjects are set in frontal, didactic poses against alluring, but deliberately fake-looking backdrops. Drawing equally from portraiture, tableaux, fashion photography, and the celluloid media, their pictures serve as fanciful documentation for an array of subjects, each with its own discrete story." </i><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><i> <iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="225" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/mq9r3I0MLiQ" width="250"></iframe></i></div><div style="text-align: right;"><i> Description by Jason Goldman taken from <a href="http://www.glbtq.com/arts/pierre_gilles.html">here!</a></i><br />
<br />
Também no trigésimo aniversário da <a href="http://www.publico.pt/Mundo/perto-de-2500-jovens-sao-infectados-pelo-hiv-por-dia_1496961">descoberta da doença</a><i>.</i></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2301924594573960622.post-63102927424216813332011-06-03T00:23:00.015+01:002013-08-02T00:42:59.076+01:00Nuit(et)_Brouillard<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="25" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/dey3HRTJKEM" width="425"></iframe><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Paroles et musique : <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jean_Ferrat">Jean Ferrat</a></i></span><br />
<blockquote>1<br />
<i>Ils étaient vingt et cent, ils étaient des milliers</i><br />
<i>Nus et maigres tremblants, dans ces wagons plombés</i><br />
<i>Qui déchiraient la nuit de leurs ongles battants</i><br />
<i>Ils étaient des milliers, ils étaient vingt et cent.</i><br />
<i>Ils se croyaient des hommes, n'étaient plus que des nombres</i><br />
<i>Depuis longtemps leurs dés avaient été jetés</i><br />
<i>Dès que la main retombe il ne reste qu'une ombre</i><br />
<i>Ils ne devaient jamais plus revoir l'été.</i><br />
2<br />
<i>La fuite monotone et sans hâte du temps</i><br />
<i>Survivre encore un jour, une heure obstinément</i><br />
<i>Combien de tours de roues, d'arrêts et de départs</i><br />
<i>Qui n'en finissent pas de distiller l'espoir</i><br />
<i>Ils s'appelaient Jean-Pierre, Natacha ou Samuel</i><br />
<i>Certains priaient Jésus, Jéhovah ou Vichnou</i><br />
<i>D'autres ne priaient pas mais qu'importe le ciel</i><br />
<i>Ils voulaient simplement ne plus vivre à genoux.</i><br />
3<br />
<i>Ils n'arrivaient pas tous à la fin du voyage</i><br />
<i>Ceux qui sont revenus peuvent-ils être heureux ?</i><br />
<i>Ils essaient d'oublier, étonnés qu'à leur âge</i><br />
<i>Les veines de leurs bras soient devenues si bleues</i><br />
<i>Les Allemands guettaient du haut des miradors</i><br />
<i>La lune se taisait comme vous vous taisiez</i><br />
<i>En regardant au loin, en regardant dehors</i><br />
<i>Votre chair était tendre à leurs chiens policiers.</i><br />
4<br />
<i>On me dit à présent, que ces mots n'ont plus cours</i><br />
<i>Qu'il vaut mieux ne chanter que des chansons d'amour</i><br />
<i>Que le sang sèche vite en entrant dans l'histoire</i><br />
<i>Et qu'il ne sert à rien de prendre une guitare</i><br />
<i>Mais qui donc est de taille à pouvoir m'arrêter</i><br />
<i>L'ombre s'est faite humaine aujourd'hui c'est l'été</i><br />
<i>Je twisterais les mots s'il fallait les twister</i><br />
<i>Pour qu'un jour les enfants sachent qui vous étiez.</i><br />
<i>Vous étiez vingt et cent, vous étiez des milliers</i><br />
<i>Nus et maigres tremblants, dans ces wagons plombés</i><br />
<i>Qui déchiriez la nuit de vos ongles battants</i><br />
<i>Vous étiez des milliers, vous étiez vingt et cent.</i></blockquote><iframe width="420" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/l8qTFuMcDLs" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe><br />
Ao seu <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alain_Resnais">octagésimo nono</a> aniversário, a um mês deste Blog comemorar o seu terceiro...</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2301924594573960622.post-9871540815071828962011-05-31T00:57:00.003+01:002011-05-31T00:57:00.530+01:00Death_Fugue<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><i>Thus with the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Discordian_calendar">year</a></i><br />
<i>Seasons return; but not to me returns</i><br />
<i>Day, or the sweet approach of ev'n or morn,</i><br />
<i>Or sight of vernal bloom, or summer's rose,</i><br />
<i>Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine;</i><br />
<i>But cloud instead, and ever-during dark</i><br />
<i>Surrounds me, from the cheerful ways of men</i><br />
<i>Cut off, and for the book of knowledge fair</i><br />
<i>Presented with a universal blank</i><br />
<i>Of Nature's works to me expunged and razed,</i><br />
<i>And wisdom at one entrance quite shut out.</i><br />
<span style="font-size: xx-small;">Lines 40-50. Book III</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/JbM3VTIvOBk" width="425"></iframe></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Unfinished Contrapunctus 14 in JS Bach's <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Art_of_Fugue">The Art of Fugue</a> BWV 1080</span><br />
<br />
<i>With thee conversing I forget all time,</i><br />
<i>All seasons, and their change; all please alike.</i><br />
<i>Sweet is the breath of morn, her rising sweet,</i><br />
<i>With charm of earliest birds; pleasant the sun</i><br />
<i>When first on this delightful land he spreads</i><br />
<i>His orient beams on herb, tree, fruit, and flower,</i><br />
<i>Glist'ring with dew; fragrant the fertile earth</i><br />
<i>After soft showers; and sweet the coming on</i><br />
<i>Of grateful ev'ning mild; then silent night</i><br />
<i>With this her solemn bird and this fair moon,</i><br />
<i>And these the gems of heaven, her starry train:</i><br />
<i>But neither breath of morn when she ascends</i><br />
<i>With charm of earliest birds, nor rising sun</i><br />
<i>On this delightful land, nor herb, fruit, flower,</i><br />
<i>Glist'ring with dew, nor fragrance after showers,</i><br />
<i>Nor grateful ev'ning mild, nor silent night</i><br />
<i>With this her solemn bird, nor walk by moon</i><br />
<i>Or glittering starlight, without thee is sweet.</i><br />
<span style="font-size: xx-small;">Lines 639-656. Book IV</span><br />
<br />
<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Paradise_Lost">Paradise Lost</a> by John Milton </div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2301924594573960622.post-69321564356976565372011-05-30T00:49:00.000+01:002011-05-30T00:55:08.786+01:00Twins<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Congratulations, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Devendra_Banhart">Ban_h</a>(e)<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gemini_%28constellation%29">art</a> and your be_loved <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Adan_Jodorowsky">Adan</a>!<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/ENawAstRGB0" width="560"></iframe></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2301924594573960622.post-52474427769175392422011-05-24T00:15:00.000+01:002011-05-24T00:39:21.369+01:00Next_Generation<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div style="text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="25" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/S08KonZiew4" width="425"></iframe></div><div style="text-align: left;">Pois é, a aventura está a chegar ao fim! Há dez dias cumpriu-se a promessa do <a href="http://ophiuchus-threedecades.blogspot.com/2010/08/vatretro.html">verão passado</a>: cantou-se, dançou-se, fumou-se, comeu-se, bebeu-se e conviveu-se ainda melhor - o <a href="http://bragaromanamarcas.blogspot.com/2009/05/subura-bar.html">subura</a> foi à quinta do smith; sem dormir e com o sol a nascer-me nos olhos, só parei na praia e larguei a âncora na outra margem, depois o eterno camarido que me fez de caminha; a cálida encosta atlântica de cristas graníticas acompanha-me, amorosa, por entre <a href="http://pt.wikipedia.org/wiki/Castro_de_S%C3%A3o_Louren%C3%A7o">castros</a> e vales, <a href="http://www.cm-barcelos.pt/noticias/rodape/exposio-201chistrias-e-estrias-no-feminino201d-e-tertlia-201cconversas-no-feminino201d-na-sala-gtica">barros</a> e bouças. A meio da semana desperto directo aos museus com que já aqui terminei: as <a href="http://mdds.imc-ip.pt/pt-PT/sitiosarqueologicos/ContentDetail.aspx?id=97">termas</a> atrás da casa (com pessoas virtuais) e os <a href="http://www.correiodominho.com/noticias.php?id=47958">biscaínhos</a> repletos de escolas em reboliço; o mundo abre-se ali como um <a href="http://www.se-braga.pt/tesouro_museu.php">tesouro</a> e, para além da odisseia do <a href="http://www.schaubuehne.de/en_EN/program/repertoire/420875">circo no exterior</a>, esperam-me ainda a feira e <a href="http://www.pontocom.pt/actividades/2011UltraTrailGeira/percurso.php">geira</a> romanas; os passeios e banhos pelas terras de bouro encenam o cenário perfeito para a partida, depois de um <a href="http://www.abocanhado.com/">farto repasto</a>. <br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://pt.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vilarinho_das_Furnas_%28filme%29">Vilarinho das Furnas</a> há quarenta anos</span><br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="212" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/hzWqhgPx7jk" width="320"></iframe></div>É provável que chegue a <a href="http://www.arte-coa.pt/index.php?Language=pt&Page=Museu&SubPage=Edificio">foz_côa</a> mas depois as restantes mensagens estarão programadas para a glória dos últimos momentos (tenho de decidir para onde vou a seguir, preparar as convulsões_revoluções que se avizinham; serão por certo sustentáveis, tal como a certeza de um novo encontro - mas por agora despeço-me com o habitual "Até Já")</div><div style="text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="25" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/5-xRaxdxEhA" width="425"></iframe><br />
<b><span style="font-size: x-small;">"Para mim, a liberdade é a mais nobre e a principal condição da vida."</span><span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span></b><br />
<a href="http://pt.wikipedia.org/wiki/Henrik_Ibsen"><span style="font-size: x-small;"> Ibsen</span> </a><span style="font-size: x-small;"> a 3 de Janeiro de 1882 - Introdução do livrinho de teatro </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">"Breves textos para a liberdade"</span></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2301924594573960622.post-16811842167771575802011-05-22T00:12:00.003+01:002011-05-30T01:09:33.057+01:00Lag_BaOmer<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><i></i><br />
<div style="text-align: right;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="180" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/8gA8SQI4bCE" width="240"></iframe></div><div style="text-align: right;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="text-align: right;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="25" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/UUF-jHyEuNg" width="425"></iframe></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Esther Ofarim - <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Oyfn_Pripetshik">Oyfn Pripetchik</a></i></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>At the fireplace a little fire burns</i></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>And in the room it's warm.</i></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>And the Rabbi teaches little children</i></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i><a href="http://es.wikipedia.org/wiki/El_Aleph_%28libro%29">the aleph</a>-bet</i></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i><br />
</i></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>See you children-dear,</i></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>remember dear, what you're learning</i></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>here.</i></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Say once again, and then once again,</i></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>"Komets-alef: o!"</i></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i><br />
</i></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Children, learn with happiness,</i></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>learn the aleph-bet.</i></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Lucky is the jew who <a href="http://www.jewishvirtuallibrary.org/jsource/vjw/Portugal.html">knows the Torah</a>.</i></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>and the aleph-bet.</i></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i><br />
</i></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="25" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/1Qd2Nb-oh4I" width="425"></iframe></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Mike Patrinos - <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Misirlou">Misirlou</a></i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i> </i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i> My Misirlou (Egyptian girl), your sweet glance</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i> Has lit a <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lag_BaOmer">flame in my heart</a>.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i> Ah, ya habibi, Ah, ya leh-leli, ah (</i>Oh, my love, Oh, my night<i>)[2]</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i> Your two lips are dripping honey, ah.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i> </i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i> Ah, Misirlou, magical, exotic beauty.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i> Madness will overcome me, I can't endure [this] any more.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i> Ah, I'll steal you away from the Arab land.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i> </i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i> My black-eyed, my wild Misirlou,</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i> My life changes with one kiss</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i> Ah, ya habibi, one little kiss, ah</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i> From your sweet little lips, ah.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i> </i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i> <iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="25" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/ZUVEq6NC7mM" width="425"></iframe></i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i> the budapest klezmer band - <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bei_Mir_Bistu_Shein">Bei mir bist du schein</a></i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i> </i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i> Of all the boys I've known, and I've known some</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i> Until I first met you, I was lonesome</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i> And when you came in sight, dear, my heart grew light</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i> And this old world seemed new to me</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i> </i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i> You're really swell, I have to admit you</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i> Deserve expressions that really fit you</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i> And so I've racked my brain, hoping to explain</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i> All the things that you do to me</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i> </i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i> Bei mir bist du schön, please let me explain</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i> Bei mir bist du schön means you're grand</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i> Bei mir bist du schön, again I'll explain</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i> It means you're the fairest in the land</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i> </i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i> I could say "Bella, bella", even say "Voonderbar"</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i> Each language only helps me tell you how grand you are</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i> </i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i> I've tried to explain, bei mir bist du schön</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i> So kiss me and say you understand</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i> </i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i> Bei mir bist du schön, you've heard it all before</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i> but let me try to explain</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i> Bei mir bist du schön means that you're grand</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i> Bei mir bist du schön, it's such an old refrain</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i> <a href="http://www.cbc.ca/news/arts/story/2011/05/19/cannes-lars-von-trier-hitler-comment.html">and yet I should explain</a></i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i> It means I am begging for your hand</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i> </i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i> I could say "Bella, bella", even say "Voonderbar"</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i> Each language only helps me tell you how grand you are</i><i>[2]</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i> </i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i> I've tried to explain, <a href="http://www.dvrbs.com/swing/SholomSecunda-BeiMirBistDuSchoen.htm">bei mir bist du schön</a></i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i> So kiss me and say that you will understand</i></span><br />
<i> </i><br />
<i> <iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="180" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/tCTUaTBpNQ8" width="240"></iframe></i></div></div><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Comunicado de João B. Serra na apresentação da obra <a href="http://www.cidadeimaginaria.org/bib/JudeusCaldas.pdf">Judeus em Portugal durante a II Guerra</a> de Irene Pimentel</li>
</ul></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2301924594573960622.post-83781912519123724572011-05-21T00:49:00.003+01:002011-05-21T19:02:49.914+01:00Homme(X) au(X) Bain(X)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDKHM-gTfH1g7ydw-WvBUB5rvVpBYVy-KLqJ7j9l24HJYaaUbc3zFmgQQCkKukFgjy1_Qh4Zn_3GCiYsd6mvlv-methNKA-H9MZ-8eLhMJiTMSfqfI3oXkM6T0dV1GM-03rd85R3VGzjFj/s1600/454px-D%25C3%25BCrer_-_Das_M%25C3%25A4nnerbad.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDKHM-gTfH1g7ydw-WvBUB5rvVpBYVy-KLqJ7j9l24HJYaaUbc3zFmgQQCkKukFgjy1_Qh4Zn_3GCiYsd6mvlv-methNKA-H9MZ-8eLhMJiTMSfqfI3oXkM6T0dV1GM-03rd85R3VGzjFj/s200/454px-D%25C3%25BCrer_-_Das_M%25C3%25A4nnerbad.jpg" width="151" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Das Männerbad - <a href="http://pt.wikipedia.org/wiki/Albrecht_D%C3%BCrer">Dürer (1471-1528)</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>As eleições são daqui a quinze, exactamente no aniversário <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Fq0GEKlsRl8">deste senhor</a>! Como sei que me vou esquecer (posso estar a_banhos!), programei para reflexão um primeiro vídeo belissimamente musicado e quatro outras opções de produção (para o melhor e pior dos cenários), bem como as previsões de António Rosa na <a href="http://cova-do-urso.blogspot.com/2011/03/portugal-eleicoes-legislativas-5-junho.html">Cova do Urso</a> para decidir o dia das nossas partidárias personalidades.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><object height="360px" width="425px"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"/><param name="wmode" value="transparent"/><param name="movie" value="http://mediaservices.myspace.com/services/media/embed.aspx/m=43565161,t=1,mt=video"/><embed src="http://mediaservices.myspace.com/services/media/embed.aspx/m=43565161,t=1,mt=video" width="425" height="360" allowFullScreen="true" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent"></embed></object></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Lips, ripe as the berries in June</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Red the rose, red the rose</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Skin, pale as the light of the moon</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Gently as she goes</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Eyes, blue as the sea and the sky</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Water flows, water flows</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Heart running like fire in the night</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Gently as she goes</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">la, lalalalalalala</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">la lala, la lala</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">la, lalalalalalala</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.arabesquethemovie.com/raging/arabesque/scene10/index.html"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Gently as she goes</span></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Lips, ripe as the berries in June</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Red the rose, red the rose</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Skin, pale as the light of the moon</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Gently as she goes</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Eyes, blue as the sea and the sky</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Water flows, water flows</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Heart running like fire in the night</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Gently as she goes</span></div><br />
<ul style="text-align: left;"><li><i>Photoshoot <a href="http://vimeo.com/20374269">by Terry Richardson</a> to celebrates the repeal of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Don%27t_ask,_don%27t_tell">DADT in USA</a></i> </li>
<li><i>Teaser Clip of Bruce LaBruce's film <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t0DQDlm6bYI">L.A. Zombie </a><span style="font-size: x-small;">with France De Griessen's music "I want to be you." </span></i></li>
<li><i><span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span>"Re-dressing himself" is an <a href="http://vimeo.com/15123107">Elvis di Fazio</a>'s anti-porn & fashion statement <span style="font-size: x-small;">(I feel you - depeche mode)</span></i></li>
<li><i>Video Clip<span style="font-size: small;"> <span class="videoname">by Mercure & Malin pour</span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="long-title" dir="ltr" id="eow-title" title="Yiss-J'Arrête - Starring François Sagat (Uncensored)">Yiss's song <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ilp_mkwNhc8">"J'Arrête" (uncensored)</a></span></span><span style="font-size: x-small;"> Tourné aux Bains Douches</span></i></li>
</ul></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2301924594573960622.post-42128284128611499152011-05-19T00:12:00.041+01:002011-05-30T01:10:21.623+01:00Pink_Daffodil<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Night_on_Bald_Mountain">Night on Bald Mountain</a> - Modest Mussorgsky</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="25" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/iCEDfZgDPS8" width="425"></iframe></span></div><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: right;" trbidi="on"><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">(Por favor, ligar ao mesmo tempo que o filme in_sonoro.)</span></div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>I wandered lonely as a cloud<br />
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,<br />
When all at once I saw a crowd,<br />
A host, of golden daffodils;<br />
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,<br />
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.<br />
<br />
Continuous as the stars that shine<br />
And twinkle on the milky way,<br />
They stretched in never-ending line<br />
Along the margin of a bay:<br />
Ten thousand <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Narcissus_%28mythology%29">saw I</a> at a glance,<br />
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.<br />
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/lhuOGAGmXY0" width="425"></iframe><br />
</i></span><span style="font-size: x-small;">Estreou há 40 anos enquanto anónimo; descobriu-se vinte e tal</span><span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span><span style="font-size: x-small;">depois o autor: <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/James_Bidgood_%28filmmaker%29">James Bidgood</a><i><br />
</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>The waves beside them danced; but they<br />
Out-did the sparkling waves in <a href="http://www.fox.com/glee/">glee</a>:<br />
A poet could not but be gay,<br />
In such a jocund company:<br />
I gazed - and gazed - but little thought<br />
What wealth the show to me had brought:<br />
<br />
For oft, when on my couch I lie<br />
In vacant or in pensive mood,<br />
They flash upon that inward eye<br />
Which is the bliss of solitude;<br />
And then my heart with pleasure fills,<br />
And dances with the daffodils.</i></span><br />
<br />
<b>The Daffodils</b> (1804), the best_knowned poem by <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/William_Wordsworth" title="William Wordsworth">William Wordsworth</a></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2301924594573960622.post-20317042926834858022011-05-17T01:51:00.028+01:002011-05-30T01:08:30.332+01:00Adult_Material<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Até porque foi há <a href="http://www.dezanove.pt/">dezanove</a> anos que <a href="http://www.who.int/en/">esta</a> organização reconheceu o que <a href="http://www.apa.org/">estoutra</a> já havia considerado há 37 - eduquem a <a href="http://www.stonewall.org.uk/at_home/sexual_orientation_faqs/2701.asp">cidadania</a>:<br />
<dl><dd><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Volverán las oscuras golondrinas</i></span></dd><dd><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>En tu balcón sus nidos a colgar</i></span></dd><dd><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Y otra vez con el ala a sus cristales,</i></span></dd><dd><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Jugando llamarán.</i></span></dd></dl><dl><dd><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Pero aquellas que el vuelo refrenaban</i></span></dd><dd><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Tu hermosura y mi dicha a contemplar.</i></span></dd><dd><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Aquellas que aprendieron nuestros nombres,</i></span></dd><dd><span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.dayagainsthomophobia.org/-May-17th-around-the-world,89-"><i>¡Esas... no volverán!</i></a></span></dd><dd><a href="http://www.blogger.com/goog_175822282"> </a></dd><dd><blockquote><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Rima LIII</i></span></blockquote></dd><dd></dd><dd></dd></dl></div><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/p9KDbOD8Umw" width="560"></iframe><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.nowness.com/day/2011/1/11/1251/casey-spooner-adult-material">Interview on Nowness</a></span> <br />
<dl><dd><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>¿Qué es poesía?, dices mientras clavas</i></span></dd><dd><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>en mi pupila tu pupila azul.</i></span></dd><dd><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>¡Qué es poesía! ¿Y tú me lo preguntas?</i></span></dd><dd><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Poesía... eres tú.</i></span></dd></dl></div><blockquote>Rimas por <a href="http://es.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gustavo_Adolfo_B%C3%A9cquer">Gustavo Adolfo Bécquer</a><span style="font-size: x-small;"> (duzentos e setenta e cinco anos, e três meses depois do seu nascimento - sim, era hetero, mas poderia ser gay ou bi ou trans ou, ou...)</span></blockquote></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2301924594573960622.post-76471735854421553922011-05-15T22:30:00.013+01:002011-05-30T01:07:34.266+01:00Lord of the Rings<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><i></i><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Love is a burning thing</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i> And it makes a fiery ring</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Bound by wild desire</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>I fell in to a <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ring_of_Fire_%28song%29">ring of fire</a></i></span><br />
<i> </i><i><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/gRlj5vjp3Ko" width="425"></iframe> </i><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">Primeiro foi o polegar: uma anilha aberta bem decorada, na mão esquerda, assinalava a via. Depois outro, no indicador direito, discreto e simples, aproximava-nos: a distância entre palmos e braços abertos bem medidos trouxe o dedal da eterna aliança; após um quarto de século já temperado, esta era a terceira vez. E perder as algemas fez-me guerrear de paixão – atirei-o pela janela da Nay, até voltar, sete anos depois, a encontrar o mesmo padrão; desta enfiei o dito no anelar em terras peregrinas ao que, aguentando quase um giro de emoção e tempo semelhantes, desapareceu. Há ainda descrições de um piercing no sobrolho e do uso de <i><a href="http://www.sinclairinstitute.com/Buying-Guides/Cock-Rings-101.aspx">cock_rings</a></i>! (Descubro-o passada uma semana desta postagem, debaixo do colchão).</div><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/JTtQIdKoalI" width="425"></iframe><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Still round the corner there may wait<br />
A new road or <a href="http://www.museuberardo.com/Files/MCB_FiveRings_2011.pdf">a secret gate</a><br />
And though I oft have passed them by<br />
The day will come at last when I<br />
Shall take the hidden paths that run<br />
West of the Moon and East of the Sun.</i></span><br />
<blockquote><blockquote><i><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Lord_of_the_Rings"> The Lord of the Rings</a> - J.R.Tolkien </i></blockquote></blockquote></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2301924594573960622.post-12889723910504612732011-05-14T00:41:00.008+01:002011-05-19T11:56:29.078+01:00Let's Shake (The Queen)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Três meses depois do seu <a href="http://www.pjharvey.net/">lançamento</a>:</div><div style="text-align: right;"><i>Goddamn' Europeans!</i></div><div style="text-align: right;"><i>Take me back to beautiful England</i></div><div style="text-align: right;"><i>the grey, damp filthiness of ages,</i></div><div style="text-align: right;"><i>fog rolling down behind the mountains,</i></div><div style="text-align: right;"><i>on the graveyards, and dead sea-captains.</i></div><div style="text-align: right;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="text-align: right;"><i>Let me walk through the stinking alleys</i></div><div style="text-align: right;"><i>to the music of drunken beatings,</i></div><div style="text-align: right;"><i>past the Thames River, glistening like gold</i></div><div style="text-align: right;"><i>hastily sold for nothing.</i></div><div style="text-align: right;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: right;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="219" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/zh41ANc_tMc" width="333"></iframe></div><div style="text-align: right;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: right;"><i>Let me watch night fall on the river,</i></div><div style="text-align: right;"><i>the moon rise up and turn to silver,</i></div><div style="text-align: right;"><i>the sky move,</i></div><div style="text-align: right;"><i>the ocean shimmer,</i></div><div style="text-align: right;"><i>the hedge shake,</i></div><div style="text-align: right;"><i><a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/history/british/britain_wwone/casement_01.shtml">the last living rose</a> quiver.</i></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2301924594573960622.post-10933681058018191002011-05-13T11:25:00.054+01:002011-05-13T21:49:27.187+01:00Drift_Down<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i><a href="http://www.publico.pt/Ci%C3%AAncias/antirretrovirais-reduzem-transmissao-sexual-de-vih-em-96_1493891">Ave Maria</a>,</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Heute sind so viele ganz allein.</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Es gibt auf der Welt so viele Tränen,</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>und Nächte voller Einsamkeit.</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Und jeder wünscht sich einen Traum,</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>voller Zärtlichkeit.</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Und manchmal reichen ein paar Worte,</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>um nicht mehr so allein zu sein,</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>aus fremden Menschen werden Freunde</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>und grosse Sorgen werden klein.</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Ave Maria.</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Ave Maria.</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Kalt ist die Reise durch die Nacht.</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Es gibt so viel Wege zu den Sternen,</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>und jeder sucht eine Hand, die ihn hält.</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Vielleicht ist jemand so traurig wie du,</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>komm, und geh auf ihn zu.</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Verschliess heut nacht nicht deine Türen,</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>und öffne heut dein Herz ganz weit</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>und lass den anderen Wärme spüren,</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>in dieser kalten Jahreszeit.</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Ave Maria.</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="200" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/L852uDRskQg" width="300"></iframe></i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Dôme épais le jasmin,</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>A la rose s'assemble,</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Rive en fleurs frais matin,</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://youtu.be/6850CjhIzrY"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Nous appellent ensemble.</i></span></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Ah! glissons en suivant</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>le courant fuyant:</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Dans l'onde frémissante,</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>D'une main nonchalante,</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Gagnons le bord,</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Où l'oiseau chante,</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>L'oiseau, l'oiseau chante.</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Dôme épais, blanc jasmin,</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Nous appellent ensemble!</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="200" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/t-UFDMqXfBM" width="300"></iframe></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Magnificat anima mea Dominum</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Et exultavit spiritus meus in Deo salutari meo.</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Quia respexit humilitatem ancillæ suæ: ecce enim ex hoc beatam me dicent omnes generationes.</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Quia fecit mihi magna qui potens est, et sanctum nomen eius.</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Et misericordia eius a progenie in progenies timentibus eum.</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Fecit potentiam in brachio suo, dispersit superbos mente cordis sui.</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Deposuit potentes de sede et exaltavit humiles.</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Esurientes implevit bonis et divites dimisit inanes,</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Suscepit Israel puerum suum recordatus misericordiæ suæ,</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Sicut locutus est ad patres nostros, Abraham et semini eius in sæcula.</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i><br />
</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Gloria Patri, et Filio, et Spiritui Sancto</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Sicut erat in principio, et nunc, et semper, et in saecula saeculorum.</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://youtu.be/8Sabs73jeGc"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Amen.</i></span></a></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2301924594573960622.post-85890607836766587122011-05-12T12:28:00.000+01:002011-05-13T21:26:44.045+01:00As Coisas XI<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_IZMYA6RHxqnj-we48eyyql6cdoid5QsjO0r2aBlK3JpoKNSErPoJgbsiC9r_NDa81kQbwR7zCos9oN14-eAeiGr56uNyJL61a1NUV5FQ627dbeDqd4vfowHDHXah8hlY1-cBJ205F5NS/s1600/254px-Moore_Seashells.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_IZMYA6RHxqnj-we48eyyql6cdoid5QsjO0r2aBlK3JpoKNSErPoJgbsiC9r_NDa81kQbwR7zCos9oN14-eAeiGr56uNyJL61a1NUV5FQ627dbeDqd4vfowHDHXah8hlY1-cBJ205F5NS/s200/254px-Moore_Seashells.jpg" width="84" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Shells - <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Albert_Joseph_Moore">A.J.Moore</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="PT"><b><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Seashell">Conchas</a> e <a href="http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/Measured_seeds">Sementes</a></b>: vindas talvez de mares perscrutados / são ecos de lembranças cristalinas / antigas casas_peles de organismos vivos / chegam ocas, polidas de sentidos / tácteis, sonoras, férteis / perfis côncavos perfeitos dão à costa | assim as colhia tenras em criança / pequenas hastes, corolas ou botões / num prado suave onde irmãs deslizam / por perdidos sonhos já longínquos / agora guardo o que delas sobra / redondas, secas, áleas vagens píneas / secretos frutos que nascerão um dia / quando de minha colecção se libertarem / ao mundo, ao vento, aos dias...</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2301924594573960622.post-12346523257313775402011-05-10T16:46:00.030+01:002011-05-18T09:18:58.432+01:00Lumière_Magicien<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><i>Restless - Gus Van Sant: lighting (ghost) teenage love</i><br />
<i><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="300" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/dgq6SQTDYi8" width="500"></iframe></i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i><a href="http://youtu.be/xbGd_240ynk">Melan</a><a href="http://youtu.be/ndQ0FKa92J8">cholia</a> - Lars Von Trier: a (mazzy) starring marriage</i><br />
<i><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="300" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/wzD0U841LRM" width="500"></iframe></i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i>Tree of Life - Terrence Malick: growing (impressions) of faith</i><br />
<i><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="300" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/WXRYA1dxP_0" width="500"></iframe></i></div>Apostas para amanhã em <a href="http://www.festival-cannes.com/">Cannes.</a></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2301924594573960622.post-60439294735187990232011-05-09T00:17:00.097+01:002011-05-09T00:43:02.789+01:00Slapp_Happy(People)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">O propósito desta menção vem pela descoberta da ópera <i>Camera</i> produzida em 1991 pela BBC, baseada na marcha da bela <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Melusina">Melusina</a>, escrita pelo terceiro, composta pelo primeiro e cantada pela segunda. Há onze anos voltaram a "ligar-se" para dar uma tournée pelo <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Live_in_Japan_%28Slapp_Happy_album%29">Japão</a> e registar esta obra. As origens da banda explicam-se abaixo.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"> <span style="font-size: xx-small;">Act 4 (ask for water) #25 - #29</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="200" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/tQ1TJdpbxtk" width="175"></iframe></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTl-gmVx3VDx1sBq_INR-KxXFvqvz7bhWNtPg0ekY8ApfiLU1ZGF048WERr3WPTPLDFH2EqSmajpMigjFs1euFFeo5Q3z-mdtg0CXB7QruAj-0D6jQwqmoUh14fkuWgPZ1_8cA-dwNAO89/s1600/220px-SlappHappy_AlbumCover_LiveJapan.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTl-gmVx3VDx1sBq_INR-KxXFvqvz7bhWNtPg0ekY8ApfiLU1ZGF048WERr3WPTPLDFH2EqSmajpMigjFs1euFFeo5Q3z-mdtg0CXB7QruAj-0D6jQwqmoUh14fkuWgPZ1_8cA-dwNAO89/s200/220px-SlappHappy_AlbumCover_LiveJapan.jpg" width="192" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Mendelssohn Op32 MWVP12</span><br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="200" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/tGCpnou_NKU" width="175"></iframe></div><br />
Ao ver o seu terceiro projecto experimental ser rejeitado pela editora, <a href="http://smml.khm.de/personen/staff/moore_e.htm">Anthony Moore</a> pediu à namorada da altura (futura mulher), Dagmar Krause, que se lhe juntasse na voz com que quis inovar; como estava rouca, convidaram o amigo que estava de visita, <a href="http://www.trouserpress.com/entry.php?a=peter_blegvad">Peter Blegvad</a>, para o fazer; ao ouvi-lo tão desafinado, ela acedeu. <br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><br />
<i>From their debut album (1972) Sort of, I choose this song:</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="225" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/1D99x_kfdXE" width="250"></iframe></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Then the first song in the B-side of the second LP (1974):</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="225" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/KqFHLNTn2WM" width="250"></iframe></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i> The homonymous album (reversed) track, recorded with Faust:</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="225" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/5bbFPxd94rI" width="250"></iframe></i></div>Nesse ano lançaram ainda (com Henry Cow) <i>Desperate Straiths</i> e no seguinte <i>In Praise of Learning</i>. Vinte e dois anos depois reuniram-se apenas os três para gravar <i>Ça Va</i>. Após esta experiência, separaram-se.<i> So, play it again!</i><br />
<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2301924594573960622.post-66143867381233382362011-05-08T22:55:00.003+01:002011-05-08T23:22:34.619+01:00Bric-a-Brac<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Não há <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jacaranda_mimosifolia">jacarandás</a> em Braga mas um cheiro a <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aloysia_citrodora">erva_luísa</a>! Obrigado, amor.<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: right;" trbidi="on"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="25" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/0bUAM0ER-Dw" width="425"></iframe><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Marilyn Horne - Che Faro Senza Euridice?</span></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2301924594573960622.post-60783070818874258472011-05-07T07:23:00.007+01:002011-05-08T13:15:38.625+01:00Tight_Meaning<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div style="text-align: right;">Encontro as senhas de ordem nos bolsos depois da última colheita no convento e preparo a visita ao <a href="http://www.hospitaldebraga.com.pt/">novo</a>, agora bloco branco misericordioso (reparo na coincidência dos tempos); com o corte no <a href="http://bracarangustia.blogspot.com/2009/05/salvar-barbearia-matos.html">barbeiro do souto</a>, atravesso a praça cheia, descubro a <a href="http://cslivraria.blogspot.com/">livraria</a> vermelha e baixa com pátio a abrir e visito o carmo; desço à cadeia pelo antigo IEP, vislumbro a pedreira pelo <a href="http://www.geira.pt/arqueo/html/sitio15.html">monte castro</a> e faço a pé a rodovia - a gata cai desta vez pelo vitorino, coca_cola killer e viva a formação online – planeio comboio para a catalunha, último comentário nas memórias de adriano (repete-se o filme mas desta vez completo), celebro aniversário metalúrgico e a morte têxtil fraccionadas. Passar o guião na leitura após montagem do conto de virgílio pela dorinda, vizinhos aos molhos e assistir à peça do sonâmbulo agostinho (onde o <a href="http://www.ncb-teatro.com/home.html">morgado amoroso</a> casa, tal como o joão com a hermengarda, numa chula de virote); regresso à rua do edgardo – braga contra o porto para onde o irmão vai, acaba em arrufo por benfica! A música e o café são o máximo: então rosa enquanto ginja vamos pelos spots SG, superbock e carlsberg, cago e grego, percorro a madrugada com <a href="http://www.myspace.com/peixeaviao">peixe:avião</a>, o <a href="http://www.ionline.pt/conteudos/home.html">i</a> faz hoje dois anos. E amanhã mosteiro com açorda...</div><div style="text-align: right;"><object height="283" width="283"><param name="movie" value="http://player.soundcloud.com/player.swf?url=http%3A%2F%2Fapi.soundcloud.com%2Ftracks%2F9872558&secret_token=s-FHtUp&player_type=artwork&color=000000"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed allowscriptaccess="always" height="283" src="http://player.soundcloud.com/player.swf?url=http%3A%2F%2Fapi.soundcloud.com%2Ftracks%2F9872558&secret_token=s-FHtUp&player_type=artwork&color=000000" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="283"></embed></object><span><a href="http://soundcloud.com/subpop/fleet-foxes-helplessness-blues">Fleet Foxes - Helplessness Blues</a> by <a href="http://soundcloud.com/subpop">subpop</a></span></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2301924594573960622.post-298891585292460572011-05-04T13:31:00.000+01:002011-05-04T13:31:00.245+01:00Art_Life<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZxjNYMZgyhkHbq-U5l3VA7x5tnV-5hrkyuEkjdIiIlw3xg_L2q35hkpakOS1jdzwxZafN7FK55wWi3vgRsM0as9VQqXspm8wsnuYSEPz_bplZN76OwsZQZ8EF6DHS8MONMEcQoOz8ehKt/s1600/keith+haring_expo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZxjNYMZgyhkHbq-U5l3VA7x5tnV-5hrkyuEkjdIiIlw3xg_L2q35hkpakOS1jdzwxZafN7FK55wWi3vgRsM0as9VQqXspm8wsnuYSEPz_bplZN76OwsZQZ8EF6DHS8MONMEcQoOz8ehKt/s200/keith+haring_expo.jpg" width="199" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hoje faria 53 anos de Vida!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>«<a href="http://www.haring.com/">Keith Haring</a> morreu de SIDA, aos trinta e um anos, às primeiras horas da manhã de 16 de Fevereiro de 1990. Deixou ficar uma muito vasta obra de desenhos e pinturas, murais e esculturas, bem como inúmeras t-shirts e cartazes: um legado extenso produzido ao longo de dez anos de criatividade por um artista que não deixou obras “dos últimos tempos”. Apesar da sua juventude, na hora da morte Haring já era um artista consagrado, reconhecido aos olhos dos outros artistas, aceite pela crítica e amado pelas crianças. Durante a sua curta vida tornou-se um sucesso de exportação americano que alcançou a fama e o êxito comercial. Como muito poucos artistas, compreendeu como combinar a personalidade própria com a arte numa única entidade. A sua marca estilística é a linha, formalmente reduzida ao essencial e que se expande, de variadas maneiras, na área restrita da pintura, tomando em devida conta as suas proporções. É sempre uma linha contínua guiada pelo sentido do acaso, transformando-se primeiro em contorno, depois em figura e finalmente em símbolo. Quase sempre o espectador necessita apenas de um breve olhar para entender o que há para ver e compreender nas suas obras. Contudo, o fascínio próprio da arte de Haring está na capacidade de combinar este estilo fortemente gráfico com o recurso a grande imaginação. As figuras e as formas estão sujeitas a contínuas transformações e a novas criações, fazendo prova contínua das suas qualidades de desenhador, pintor e escultor. Dentro da sua obra pode testemunhar uma evolução estilística constante. A busca contínua de novos desafios é acompanhada pela experimentação com as mais variadas superfícies a pintar. Seja a pintar paredes, peças de vestuário, automóveis ou aviões, e sobretudo em papel, tela, algodão não tratado ou vinil, é na execução perfeita que reside a marca da qualidade de Haring. Quer nos projectos formalmente planeados quer nos desenhos murais espontâneos, as linhas não se baseiam nem em esboços, nem em estudos. Não se encontram erros ou correcções e assimetrias de proporção. A espontaneidade e a segurança são os atributos que marcam a sua obra.»<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Primeira página do fascículo quase A5 da <a href="http://www.taschen.com/pages/en/community/events/2199.keith_haring_obra_completa_sobre_papel.htm">Taschen </a>– Alexandra Kolossa (2005)</span></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2301924594573960622.post-79398272155659345942011-05-02T19:44:00.023+01:002011-05-04T01:26:27.603+01:00Blue_Flower<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div style="text-align: left;"><i>Before all the wondrous shows of the widespread space around him, what living, sentient thing loves not the all-joyous light—with its colors, its rays and undulations, its gentle omnipresence in the form of the wakening Day? The giant-world of the unresting constellations inhales it as the innermost soul of life, and floats dancing in its blue flood—the sparkling, ever-tranquil stone, the thoughtful, imbibing plant, and the wild, burning multiform beast inhales it—but more than all, the lordly stranger with the sense-filled eyes, the swaying walk, and the sweetly closed, melodious lips. Like a king over earthly nature, it rouses every force to countless transformations, binds and unbinds innumerable alliances, hangs its heavenly form around every earthly substance.— Its presence alone reveals the marvelous splendor of the kingdoms of the world.</i></div><i>Aside I turn to the holy, unspeakable, mysterious Night. Afar lies the world—sunk in a deep grave—waste and lonely is its place. In the chords of the bosom blows a deep sadness. I am ready to sink away in drops of dew, and mingle with the ashes.— The distances of memory, the wishes of youth, the dreams of childhood, the brief joys and vain hopes of a whole long life, arise in gray garments, like an evening vapor after the sunset. In other regions the light has pitched its joyous tents. What if it should never return to its children, who wait for it with the faith of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Innocence">innocence</a>?</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="300" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/mhIq5uk2hW8" width="275">&lt;p&gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;br&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&lt;/p&gt;</iframe></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Mazzy Star - blue flower (she hangs brightly, 1990)</i></span></div><i>What springs up all at once so sweetly boding in my heart, and stills the soft air of sadness? Dost thou also take a pleasure in us, dark Night? What holdest thou under thy mantle, that with hidden power affects my soul? Precious balm drips from thy hand out of its bundle of poppies. Thou upliftest the heavy-laden wings of the soul. Darkly and inexpressibly are we moved—joy-startled, I see a grave face that, tender and worshipful, inclines toward me, and, amid manifold entangled locks, reveals the youthful loveliness of the Mother. How poor and childish a thing seems to me now the Light—how joyous and welcome the departure of the day—because the Night turns away from thee thy servants, you now strew in the gulfs of space those flashing globes, to proclaim thy omnipotence—thy return—in seasons of thy absence. More heavenly than those glittering stars we hold the eternal eyes which the Night hath opened within us. Farther they see than the palest of those countless hosts—needing no aid from the light, they penetrate the depths of a loving soul—that fills a loftier region with bliss ineffable. Glory to the queen of the world, to the great prophet of the holier worlds, to the guardian of blissful love—she sends thee to me—thou tenderly beloved—the gracious sun of the Night,—now am I awake—for now am I thine and mine—thou hast made me know the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mora_%28mythology%29">Night</a></i><i>— made of me a man—consume with spirit-fire my body, that I, turned to finer air, may mingle more closely with thee, and then our bridal night endure forever.</i><br />
<br />
<i>Hymns to the Night - </i><a href="http://pt.wikipedia.org/wiki/Friedrich_von_Hardenberg"><b>Novalis</b></a> (1772-1801)<i> </i><br />
<i>His <a href="http://www.sol.com.au/kor/19_01.htm">spiral path Here!</a> More (beautiful and fantastic) <a href="http://en.wikiquote.org/wiki/Novalis">quotations Here!</a> </i></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2301924594573960622.post-47123883308157394762011-05-01T16:01:00.047+01:002011-05-07T07:27:50.191+01:00As Coisas X<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><b>Cartazes Panfletários:</b> À volta e no espelho do guarda-fato, por baixo e dentro da secretária_estante, fui colocando em tenra juventude recortes de imagens que me impressionavam e inspiravam; as paredes começaram a acumular posters e gravuras de viagens, mais tarde postais recebidos ou por escrever, fotos oferecidas ou pinturas sugestivas, flyers de design cativante e mesmo páginas de revistas iam sendo espalhados ao acaso no forro dos sucessivos albergues. Um dia a dormir, a Joana desenhou-me o rosto, outra vez dois corpos estilizados por castrar e até um mamão aquático no seu jardim, com os pincéis que estava a utilizar; em nahuatl tentámos um amor com <a href="http://pt.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cad%C3%A1ver_esquisito">cadáveres_esquisitos</a>. Todas são <a href="http://www.publico.pt/Sociedade/manifesto-para-um-mundo-melhor_1492121?all=1">manifestos</a> mas há uma programação antiga da <a href="http://www.teatro-cornucopia.pt/htmls/conteudos/EElVkpupuuvhPFoPPL.shtml">cornucópia</a> com as peças infra, que trouxe da primeira vez que lá fui, sempre afixada cujo verso tem uma cabeça a vomitar sobre um fundo vermelho – atrás da porta ou ao fundo dos corredores.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPXeveKlDsXzrVQpr6syFJY5PK2H2D1P8D_kMpXsRgYAb00dZYoH_HJI_CRRFprd4wc_AKc__WUyRwQ59L1ez1dRVRHFh6sIva8j6qD5KrmPafwmJZkRBcZGZGht6oUeHWcwbNWbbBOWXw/s1600/A+Miss%25C3%25A3o+M%25C3%25BCller.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPXeveKlDsXzrVQpr6syFJY5PK2H2D1P8D_kMpXsRgYAb00dZYoH_HJI_CRRFprd4wc_AKc__WUyRwQ59L1ez1dRVRHFh6sIva8j6qD5KrmPafwmJZkRBcZGZGht6oUeHWcwbNWbbBOWXw/s200/A+Miss%25C3%25A3o+M%25C3%25BCller.jpg" width="142" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Mission_%28play%29">A Missão (1979)</a></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipeP-CSer8LspCHn95suu0LSLHHvLoprpuaaNoHEIKxOWfDAtG4ieKMkDB4-q2EbqOf1YS4H-uZhSpu96c0oY2_zfRFEoVAU_JnnYNPX5jS4my5zGzh2uHU0U63rA2j86I4JBuQEyavKRb/s1600/Heiner+Mueller+Maske.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="97" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipeP-CSer8LspCHn95suu0LSLHHvLoprpuaaNoHEIKxOWfDAtG4ieKMkDB4-q2EbqOf1YS4H-uZhSpu96c0oY2_zfRFEoVAU_JnnYNPX5jS4my5zGzh2uHU0U63rA2j86I4JBuQEyavKRb/s200/Heiner+Mueller+Maske.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://de.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mauser_%28Drama%29">Mauser (1970)</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: center;"><i><a href="http://www.internationale-heiner-mueller-gesellschaft.de/">Müller</a> reading from the Children's Songs by Brecht -</i><i> <a href="http://www.kuttner.de/Filme/MuellerBrecht.mov%20">"May Song"</a></i><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: right;">E porque hoje é o dia delas - a minha faz 63!<i> </i></div><div style="text-align: right;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/1Mz5I1LmLLw" width="425"></iframe></div><br />
</div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2301924594573960622.post-58484184682510512872011-04-30T03:50:00.002+01:002011-04-30T04:13:55.098+01:00Some(Thing)_Shape(d'Like)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/O4rMXejQunw" width="560"></iframe><br />
<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"> Até oito de Maio no Teatro Camões - e depois <a href="http://www.cnb.pt/calendario/?id=3">por todo o País</a><br />
<br />
"Poderá andar-se metido num amor a contragosto? Claro que sim. Um amor a contragosto é um amor em relação ao qual o sujeito que o sofre sabe/palpita que está numa perspectiva catastrófica e que, em princípio, nada pode fazer para evitar a catástrofe, que esta o espera no fim de tudo e se prepara para o mastigar sem contemplações, reduzindo-o a cisco. «Reconquista-me!», diz o objecto desse amor a contragosto, entre mostrando-se e furtando-se logo de seguida. E o sofrente do amor a contragosto compraz-se (afinal com imenso gosto!) em esfalfar-se e em arruinar-se nessa descida aos inferninhos do amor infeliz.<br />
Como se chega - e para quê - a uma situação destas? Por muitos caminhos e para muitos fins. Mas o que importa aqui dizer é que o amor a contragosto não é um amor partilhado. O sofrente nunca é igual a quem lhe inflige o sofrimento. É mais. Mais sentimento, mais tormento. «Mas que figurões!», dirão as <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Frogs_in_popular_culture">rãs</a> que, na circunstância, sempre se juntam para fazer coro. É que eles - o sofrente e o que faz sofrer - não sabem que estão, na sua luta (assalto e defesa), a dar-se em espectáculo aos que, de fora e ainda por cima isentos, assistem a essa terrível devoração afectiva. De um amor a contragosto dificilmente se sai. É como um vício arraigado, é como um redemoinho que puxa irresistivelmente para baixo. Talvez a única maneira, como ensinam certos nadadores experimentados em águas traiçoeiras, seja o sofrente deixar-se ir até ao fundo e aí, com um golpe rápido de braços e de pernas, sair do medonho vórtice. Então, poderá voltar à superfície, nadar para terra, sentar-se na areia e dizer: - Olha do que eu me safei! - O mundo recobrará cor e significado. Quem estiver na situação de sofrente, metido num amor a contragosto, pode treinar este processo de salvação. A Caparica não é longe."<br />
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<a href="http://pt.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alexandre_O%27Neill">Alexandre O'Neill</a> 1980 <span style="font-size: x-small;">(roubado descaradamente <a href="http://coriscos.blogspot.com/2010/08/alexandre-oneill-uma-coisa-em-forma-de.html">daqui</a>) </span></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2