29 setembro, 2011

Retirado do contexto #125

There's always next season... in April.

28 setembro, 2011

Caprichos #178

Tiny yellow roses... perfect!

27 setembro, 2011


Southern (Tunesian) Gardens, 1919, Paul Klee

So is it not with me as with that Muse
Stirr'd by a painted beauty to his verse,
Who heaven itself for ornament doth use
And every fair with his fair doth rehearse
Making a couplement of proud compare,
With sun and moon, with earth and sea's rich gems,
With April's first-born flowers, and all things rare
That heaven's air in this huge rondure hems.
O' let me, true in love, but truly write,
And then believe me, my love is as fair
As any mother's child, though not so bright
As those gold candles fix'd in heaven's air:
Let them say more than like of hearsay well;
I will not praise that purpose not to sell.

William Shakespeare, Sonnet XXI

25 setembro, 2011

Numa sala perto de mim #169

The Debt (2011), levemente baseada na história do cirurgião de Birkenau, conta a hipotética história de uma operação falhada da Mossad encoberta durante mais de trinta anos. A história como seria desejável que tivesse acontecido aprisiona toda a vida numa mentira.

23 setembro, 2011

21 setembro, 2011

Ditto #189

Education is learning what you didn't even know you didn't know.

--Daniel J. Boorstin

20 setembro, 2011

Pormenores #69

Morning showers,

with and without flash... 

18 setembro, 2011

Espantos #305

There's something special about the light effects on early morning or late afternoon flights.

17 setembro, 2011

Numa sala perto de mim #168

Contagion (2011) tells the story of the transmission of an unknown virus, spreading out of control throughout the world and killing a lot of people. In extreme cases, panic is worse than the disease itself.

Espantos #304

Os Marretas têm a minha idade! No início de Setembro de 1976 estreava na televisão norte-americana o carismático The Muppet Show, que duraria cinco temporadas.

It's time to play the music
it's time to light the light
it's time to meet the muppets
on the muppet show tonight.

It's time to put on make up

it's time to dress up right
it's time to get things started
on the muppet show tonight...

16 setembro, 2011

Numa sala perto de mim #167

Misterios de Lisboa (2010) o longo filme de Raul Ruíz, que pouco ou nada mostra de Lisboa, tem um complexo enredo englobando várias gerações. A sensação é que cada novo personagem tem uma história para contar de algum modo relacionada com a anterior. E a frase que ficou ao fim de 4h30m (versão reduzida do original de mais de 6h) foi:

Com Deus, devemos ser sinceros. Com os homens, devemos ser solidários.

14 setembro, 2011

Ditto #188

The #121 rule of a lady:

It is better to live a life of oh wells than what ifs.

Foi neste dia #152 (1917)

Há 94 anos a Rússia era oficialmente proclamada como república.

12 setembro, 2011

11 setembro, 2011

Espantos #303

Boston's seaport district... a completely new town!

07 setembro, 2011

Numa sala perto de mim #166

Joyeux Noël (2005) is based on the true story of the French, German and Scottish soldiers that ceased hostilities on the western front of the war over two days in the Christmas of 1914 (here the turning point). Mostly a story of human feelings irrespective of nationality, also a note on how religion manipulates facts and minds, and finally the detachment of higher hierarchies from matters occurring on the battle front. Moving!

Philipe Rombi

I hear the mountain birds
The sound of rivers singing
A song I've often heard
It flows through me now
So clear and so loud
I stand where I am
And forever I'm dreaming of home
I feel so alone, I'm dreaming of home

It's carried in the air
The breeze of early morning
I see the land so fair
My heart opens wide
There's sadness inside
I stand where I am
And forever I'm dreaming of home
I feel so alone, I'm dreaming of home

This is no foreign sky
I see no foreign light
But far away I am
From some peaceful land
I'm longing to stand
A hand in my hand
...forever I'm dreaming of home
I feel so alone, I'm dreaming of home

06 setembro, 2011

Palavras lidas #176

When Roses cease to bloom, Sir,
And Violets are done --
When Bumblebees in solemn flight
Have passed beyond the Sun --
The hand that paused to gather
Upon this Summer's day
Will idle lie -- in Auburn --
Then take my flowers -- pray!

Emily Dickinson

05 setembro, 2011

Sem título #22

Tired with all these, for restful death I cry,
As, to behold desert a beggar born,
And needy nothing trimm'd in jollity,
And purest faith unhappily forsworn,
And guilded honour shamefully misplaced,
And maiden virtue rudely strumpeted,
And right perfection wrongfully disgraced,
And strength by limping sway disabled,
And art made tongue-tied by authority,
And folly doctor-like controlling skill,
And simple truth miscall'd simplicity,
And captive good attending captain ill:
Tired with all these, from these would I be gone,
Save that, to die, I leave my love alone.

William Shakespeare, Sonnet LXVI

04 setembro, 2011

Numa sala perto de mim #165

One Day (2011) the story of one day, over the period of twenty years, in the life of two people in which truly special moments are lived, ignored and recalled... the movie is therefore happy, sad and nostalgic. In one word: profound!

02 setembro, 2011

No Times de hoje #134

O New York Times traz um artigo sobre os trabalhos de construção na nova torre do World Trade Center em Manhattan, actualmente no andar 75. Em Julho, o Times atribuiu ao fotógrafo Damon Winter (vencedor de um prémio pulitzer ao serviço do jornal) uma missão de cinco dias com os trabalhadores do ferro nas alturas da nova torre. Também conhecidos como os cowboys do céu, trabalham de segunda a sexta das 7am às 3.30pm em constante situação de risco, mas com uma vista fantástica. Não é para todos. O resultado vê-se agora. 

Palavras lidas #175

I don't much appreciate bullfighting (I'm one of those that covers the eyes), but Hatton's description and comparisons are too good not to be noted!


Wrestling with Bulls

   On cue, eight young men vault over the arena's painted boards, their legs together, tidily, like gymnasts, and stride towards the bull. They are forcados, a group sometimes described by wide-eyed foreigners as the "Suicide Squad." They are impeccably attired in spotless white, knee-length stockings, skin-tight trousers, clipped waistcoat and jacket (traditionally blessed at a special Mass), a crimson length of cloth wrapped around their midriffs, a prim white shirt and tie. These amateur entertainers have been watching the bull's movements intently from the ringside while the horseman performed his tricks. They solemnly approach the fearsome beast in single file so it can only see the man in front, lest it be scared of it by weight of numbers. The one at the front, who wears a floppy wool cap pulled down to his eyebrows, proceeds with dramatically paused paces towards the bull on the far side of the ring. He puffs out his chest, places his hands on his hips and bellows Toiro! Toiro! (Bull! Bull!) to taunt the half-ton of muscle and bone into charging at him. The crowd tenses up and mutters in anticipation. Some spectators cover their eyes. The bull snorts and, before long, it arches its back and dips its head, horns parallel to the ground, and kicking up bursts of sand with its stubby legs pounds towards the man who coolly steps into the gap between the horns, falls forward and grabs the bull around its tree-trunk of a neck. He hangs on for dear life as it flips him around like a rag doll. The crowd gasps. Sheer momentum means that the bull and his passenger plough full-tilt into the others behind who ricochet off the beast like skittles. Quickly they regroup and smother the bull's head and eventually it slows to a standstill. They do not always pull it off at the first attempt. Sometimes they have to dust off, wipe away blood, and line up again. Occasionally, bones are broken and flesh is torn. It is a display of nerve that merits a standing ovation.
   Wrestling a huge bull into submission with your bare hands is a uniquely Portuguese endeavor and a centuries-old tradition that invites parallels with how the Portuguese perceive themselves and their place in the greater scheme of things. They long ago took the role of indomitable underdogs arrayed against more potent forces that would submerge them but which, with varying degrees of success, they resist. The adversary, in historical terms, may be the perilous ocean or bigger rival countries. It might be their own national leaders. The foe could also be identified as something vaguer, such as cruel fortune. Or they may recognize their antagonist as residing in their own temperament, because their way of life sometimes colides with their best interests -- they do not, for instance, lack the valor and pluck for great accomplishments, but pulling their strength like the forcados does not always come naturally.
   And one thing is for sure: a country which wrestles bulls for fun can never be written off.

pp. xi-xvi

Words describe, but images show.

01 setembro, 2011

Numa sala perto de mim #164

A Man for All Seasons (1966) tells the story of Sir Thomas More, a man who would not just change his mind because his life depended on it. Marginally, it's also the story of Henry VIII who, together with his duly administrators, cleverly adjusted the law for his convenience: suiting his pleasure and removing opposing voices.