domingo, janeiro 30, 2011

A mim parece óbvio

"Perplexo por anotar que, contrariamente aos países do Norte da Europa (em particular, Inglaterra e Alemanha), os países do Sul não valorizavam (autonomamente) a perda do sentido de gosto, o Prof. Rogers (numa reunião em Munique sobre non-pecuniary losses) sentenciou, a jeito de boutade, que talvez cada país valorize o que não tem."

Maria Manuel Veloso

sexta-feira, janeiro 21, 2011

quarta-feira, janeiro 19, 2011

Não é verdade

Cai, como antigamente, das estrelas
um frio que se espalha na cidade.
Não é noite nem dia, é o tempo ardente
da memória das coisas sem idade.

O que sonhei cabe nas tuas mãos
gastas a tecer melancolia:
um país crescendo em liberdade,
entre medas de trigo e alegria.

Porém a morte passeia nos quartos,
ronda as esquinas, entra nos navios,
o seu olhar é verde, o seu vestido branco,
cheiram a cinza os seus dedos frios.

Entre um céu sem cor e montes de carvão
o ardor das estações cai apodrecido;
os mastros e as casas escorrem sombra,
só o sangue brilha endurecido.

Não é verdade tanta loja de perfumes,
não é verdade tanta rosa decepada,
tanta ponte de fumo, tanta roupa escura,
tanto relógio, tanta pomba assassinada.

Não quero para mim tanto veneno,
tanta madrugada varrida pelo gelo,
nem olhos pintados onde morre o dia,
nem beijos de lágrimas no meu cabelo.

Um galo risca o silêncio
desenhando o teu rosto nos telhados.
Eu falo do jardim onde começa
um dia claro de amantes enlaçados.

Eugénio de Andrade, As Palavras Interditas.

You're married.

- You're married.
- Not yet, not married. No, I'm not married.
- Look man, I'm telling you right off the bat, I'm high-maintainance, so... I'm not gonna tip-toe around your marriage, or whatever it is you've got goin' there. If you wanna be with me, you're with me.
- Okay.
- Too many guys think I'm a concept, or I complete them, or I'm gonna make them alive. But I'm just a fucked-up girl who's lookin' for my own peace of mind; don't assign me yours.
- I remember that speech really well.
- I had you pegged, didn't I?
- You had the whole human race pegged.
- Hmm. Probably.
- I still thought you were gonna save my life... even after that.
- Ohhh... I know.
- It would be different, if we could just give it another go-round.
- Remember me. Try your best; maybe we can.

The Eternal Sunshine Of The Spotless Mind, Charlie Kaufman e Michel Gondry (2004).

sexta-feira, janeiro 14, 2011

Meditations in an Emergency

Am I to become profligate as if I were a blonde? Or religious
as if I were French?

Each time my heart is broken it makes me feel more adventurous
(and how the same names keep recurring on that interminable
list!), but one of these days there'll be nothing left with
which to venture forth.

Why should I share you? Why don't you get rid of someone else
for a change?

I am the least difficult of men. All I want is boundless love.

Even trees understand me! Good heavens, I lie under them, too,
don't I? I'm just like a pile of leaves.

However, I have never clogged myself with the praises of
pastoral life, nor with nostalgia for an innocent past of
perverted acts in pastures. No. One need never leave the
confines of New York to get all the greenery one wishes - I can't
even enjoy a blade of grass unless i know there's a subway
handy, or a record store or some other sign that people do not
totally regret life. It is more important to affirm the
least sincere; the clouds get enough attention as it is and
even they continue to pass. Do they know what they're missing?
Uh huh.

My eyes are vague blue, like the sky, and change all the time;
they are indiscriminate but fleeting, entirely specific and
disloyal, so that no one trusts me. I am always looking away.
Or again at something after it has given me up. It makes me
restless and that makes me unhappy, but I cannot keep them
still. If only i had grey, green, black, brown, yellow eyes; I
would stay at home and do something. It's not that I'm
curious. On the contrary, I am bored but it's my duty to be
attentive, I am needed by things as the sky must be above the
earth. And lately, so great has their anxiety become, I can
spare myself little sleep.

Now there is only one man I like to kiss when he is unshaven.
Heterosexuality! you are inexorably approaching. (How best
discourage her?)

St. Serapion, I wrap myself in the robes of your whiteness
which is like midnight in Dostoevsky. How I am to become a
legend, my dear? I've tried love, but that holds you in the
bosom of another and I'm always springing forth from it like
the lotus - the ecstasy of always bursting forth! (but one must
not be distracted by it!) or like a hyacinth, "to keep the
filth of life away," yes, even in the heart, where the filth is
pumped in and slanders and pollutes and determines. I will my
will, though I may become famous for a mysterious vacancy in
that department, that greenhouse.

Destroy yourself, if you don't know!

It is easy to be beautiful; it is difficult to appear so. I
admire you, beloved, for the trap you've set. It's like a
final chapter no one reads because the plot is over.

"Fanny Brown is run away - scampered off with a Cornet of Horse;
I do love that little Minx, & hope She may be happy, tho' She
has vexed me by this exploit a little too. - Poor silly
Cecchina! or F:B: as we used to call her. - I wish She had a
good Whipping and 10,000 pounds." - Mrs. Thrale

I've got to get out of here. I choose a piece of shawl and my
dirtiest suntans. I'll be back, I'll re-emerge, defeated, from
the valley; you don't want me to go where you go, so I go where
you don't want me to. It's only afternoon, there's a lot
ahead. There won't be any mail downstairs. Turning, I spit in
the lock and the knob turns.

Frank O'Hara

domingo, janeiro 09, 2011

Ocean Be-Atch, Spring, 2010

Ruth Swanson, que dá a libertadora ilusão de se estar a cagar para tudo (com resultados variáveis, mas de tempos a tempos há magia).

sábado, janeiro 08, 2011

Cocoa Puffs

Oil on Linen, 44” x 62”.

Lee Price
, via Coudal Partners.

sexta-feira, janeiro 07, 2011

Love, in spite

na verdade, não tenho nada a dizer.
mas quero dizê-lo na mesma.

definitely not in kansas anymore, "curated photography & experimental storytelling".

P.S.: A foto é da Elinor Carucci (que tem um projecto maravilhoso chamado "my children" de que já falei aqui).

terça-feira, janeiro 04, 2011

You Know You're Right

Let’s talk about someone else.

sábado, janeiro 01, 2011