Sem título #289

Negative thoughts... just burst them!

Pormenores #176

Ornamentos de madeira para árvores de natal:

um anjo anuncia ao mundo o nascimento de Jesus...

... em madeira da Terra Santa.

Caprichos #400

Sunny spots...

Retirado co contexto #411

Ó Senhora do Carmo!!

Igreja do Sacramento, Lisboa

Parece que estou a ouvir #386

From the Matins of Christmas...

Nativity Scene by Hans Baldung, 1520

O Magnum Mysterium

Westminster Cathedral Choir

O magnum mysterium
O magnum mysterium
Et admirabile sacramentum
Et admirabile
Et admirabile
Sacramentum

O magnum mysterium
O magnum mysterium
Ut animalia
Viderent Dominum
Ut animalia
Viderent Dominum natum
Iacentem in praesepio!

Beata Virgo
Cujus viscera
Meruerunt
Beata Virgo
Portare Dominum Christum 

Alleluia! Alleluia! (O magnum mysterium) 

Alleluia! Alleluia! (O magnum mysterium) 

Et admirabile sacramentum

Ut animalia
Viderent Dominum natum
Iacentem in praesepio!
Alleluia!
Alleluia!
Alleluia!
Alle...
Alleluia!

_________________

English translation

O great mystery,

and wonderful sacrament,

that animals should see the newborn Lord,

lying in a manger!

Blessed is the virgin whose womb

was worthy to bear

the Lord, Jesus Christ.

Alleluia!

Coisas que não mudam #615

A ceia

Sem título #288

Care for yourself and tell those you love to care for themselves too

Coisas que não mudam #614

Luzes de Lisboa

Retirado do contexto #410

Sonhos de mãe

Palavras lidas #535

Passage
by Marilyn Donnelly

He who
took the steps
by two
now pauses
on each tread
and I
who love him so
am filled
with dread.

Ditto #534

I want to give the audience a hint of a scene. No more than that. Give them too much and they won't contribute anything themselves. Give them just a suggestion and you get them working with you. That's what gives the theater meaning: when it becomes a social act.

--Orson Welles

Coisas que não mudam #613

O fiel amigo nos supermercados antes do Natal

Parece que estou a ouvir #385

Amor Argentina

by Coldplay

One, two
One, two, three, four

Siento, Señor
No hablo bien español
El idioma del sol
Porque soy idiota

Pero ella nación dentro de mi corazón
Es cuando por emoción
Algo explota

Del amor soy explorador
Busco alrededor por toda mi vida
Pero, Señor, aquí la búsqueda terminó
Viví el amor en Argentina

Ahora estoy en nuestra gira mundial
Empezamos aquí
Acabamos aquí
Porque en este lugar es más profundo
Yo recibí y luego aprendí
Amor para todo el mundo

Del amor soy explorador
Busco alrededor por toda mi vida
Pero, Señor, aquí la búsqueda terminó
Porque viví el amor en Argentina

Todos
Porque el amor, soy explorador
Porque viví el amor en Argentina

Sem título #287

Fulfillment! You don't need that much to get it.

Espantos #651

Cartier Lisboa

Inverno #75

Frost unmelted for days and newly accumulated every morning

Parece que estou a ouvir #384

Colors
Black Pumas

I woke up to the morning sky, first
Baby blue, just like we rehearsed
When I get up off this ground
I shake leaves back down to the brown, brown, brown, brown
'Til I'm clean

Then I walk where I'd be shaded by the trees
By a meadow of green
For about a mile
I'm headed to town, town, town, in style

With all my favorite colors, yes, sir
All my favorite colors, right on
My sisters and my brothers
See 'em like no other
All my favorite colors

It's a good day to be
A good day for me
A good day to see
My favorite colors, colors
My sisters and my brothers
They see 'em like no other
All my favorite colors

Now take me to other side
Little bitty blues bird flies
And gray clouds, or white walls, or blue skies
We gon' fly, feel alright

And we gon' (Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh, ooh), yeah
It sound like (Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh, ooh), yeah
The least I can say, I anticipate
A homecoming parade as we renegade
In the morning, right on

With all my favorite colors, yes, sir
All my favorite colors, yes, ma'am
My sisters and my brothers
See 'em like no other
All my favorite colors

All my favorite colors, right
All my favorite colors, yes, ma'am
My sisters and my brothers
See 'em like no other
All my favorite colors

It's a good day to be
A good day for me
A good day to see my favorite colors, colors

My sisters and my brothers
They see 'em like no other
All my favorite colors

Sem título #286

Full hibernation service...

Palavras lidas #534

At the County Fair, 1956
by Charles Darling

For a nickel, a machine
called An Expression of Faith
would take your dime
and squash it.
All tubes and gears and lights,
the thing would groan, squeak,
fart, smoke, and finally drop
a little silver oval in your hands,
hot as a pistol,
with Jesus's face on one side
and the Lord's Prayer on the other.
I took my medallion
home for Grandma,
but she wouldn't keep it
because it was Catholic
and had "trespasses"
instead of "debts"
and left out the part
about the kingdom
and the power and the glory.
She gave it back
and I went downtown
and set it on the railroad track.
And after the train went by
I had a piece of silver
smooth as glass and that
says something about
power and glory, by God.

Inverno #74

It's beginning to look a lot like winter...

but in a sense this is the ideal snow:

enough to cover the ground

but mostly melting with time and walking past

 even though temps remain low and some details remain.

Ditto #533

It is better to entertain an idea than to take it home to live with you for the rest of your life.

--Randall Jarrell

Caprichos #399

Cozido de fim de trimestre (com nova panela!)

Inverno #73

First frost

Retirado do contexto #409

But why should I leave this spot?

It is so comfy...

Sem título #285

Brain and heart and the misleading leads... at times...

Caprichos #398

End of term (sushi) traditions

Parece que estou a ouvir #383

Glória
Sétima Legião

A morte não te há de matar
Nem sorte haverá de ele viver
Sem amar, sem te ter
Sem saber, se rezar

Amor oxalá seja amar
Ter prazer sem poder
Nem sequer te tocar

Os deuses não te hão de levar
Sem que eu der a mão p'ra ser par
Sermos dois a partir e depois a voltar

Não vais-me deixar sem o céu
Ser o chão onde vão-se deitar os mortais

A glória será não esquecer
Memória de tanto te querer
Sem razão meu amor
Com paixão sem morrer

Talvez ao luar possas ver o olhar
Que lembrar fez nascer português

Caprichos #397

Seasonal gifts and thoughtful friends

Palavras lidas #533

Smoke
by Faith Shearin

It was everywhere in my childhood: in restaurants,
on buses or planes. The teacher's lounge looked like
London under fog. My grandmother never stopped

smoking, and walking in her house was like diving
in a dark pond. Adults were dimly lit: they carried
matches in their pockets as if they might need fire

to see. Cigarette machines inhaled quarters and
exhaled rectangles. Women had their own brands,
long and thin; one was named Eve and it was meant

to be smoked in a garden thick with summer flowers.
I'm speaking of moods: an old country store where
my grandfather met friends and everyone spoke

behind a veil of smoke. (My Uncle Bill preferred
fragrant cigars; I can still smell his postal jacket ...)
He had time to tell stories because he took breaks

and there was something to do with his hands.
My mother's bridge club gathered around tables
with ashtrays and secrets which are best revealed

beside fire. Even the fireplaces are gone: inefficient
and messy. We are healthier now and safer! We have
exercise and tests for breast or colon cancer. We have

helmets and car seats and smokeless coffee shops
where coffee has grown frothy and complex. The old
movies are so full of smoke that actors are hard to see

and they are often wrapped in smoking jackets, bent
over a piano or kiss. I miss the places smoke created.
I like the way people sat down for rest or pleasure

and spoke to other people, not phones, and the tiny fire
which is crimson and primitive and warm. How long
ago when humans found this spark of warmth and made

their first circle? What about smoke as words? Or the
pipes of peace? In grade school we learned how it rises
and how it can kill. We were taught to shove towels

under our closed doors: to stop, drop, and roll. We had
a plan to meet our family in the yard, the house behind
us alive with all we cannot put out...

Ditto #532

You can make a killing in the theater, but not a living.

--Robert Anderson