Foi neste dia #350 (1999)

Há vinte anos em Macau

Caprichos #569

De cima da tempestade vê-se o algodão doce!

Coisas que não mudam #531

Que estranho deve ser viver num país

com um buraco a ocidente!

Espantos #599

As estranhas tradições de Natal na Catalunha

Numa sala perto de mim #421

Knives Out (2019) a classic whodunit story full of twists and turns on top of twists and turns. As usual, Daniel Craig, never disappoints, not even in a heavy Kentucky accent. Nice note on the final credits... the Rolling Stones on a lovely (and rare) country style record.

Inverno #61

Ontem, em Turim

Yesterday, in Turin

Caprichos #568

A pleasure to return to Mako, in Barcelona

Numa sala perto de mim #420

The Irishman (2019) the 3h20m long mafia movie from the perspective of old age. I am not a big fan of mafia movies in general, or of Scorcese in particular, but it's well done and prone to leave you thinking about life choices and historical events, which I can't quite appreciate as I don't know much about the time period.

Palavras lidas #442

Personal Effects
by Raymond Burns

The lawyer told him to write a letter
to accompany the will, to prevent
potential discord over artifacts
valued only for their sentiment.

His wife treasures a watercolor by
her father; grandmama's spoon stirs
their oatmeal every morning. Some
days, he wears his father's favorite tie.

He tries to think of things that
could be tokens of his days:
binoculars that transport
bluebirds through his cataracts

a frayed fishing vest with
pockets full of feathers brightly
tied, the little fly rod he can still
manipulate in forest thickets,

a sharp-tined garden fork,
heft and handle fit for him,
a springy spruce kayak paddle,
a retired leather satchel.

He writes his awkward note,
trying to dispense with grace
some well-worn clutter easily
discarded in another generation.

But what he wishes to bequeath
are items never owned: a Chopin
etude wafting from his wife's piano
on the scent of morning coffee

seedling peas poking into April,
monarch caterpillars infesting
milkweed leaves, a light brown
doe alert in purple asters

a full moon rising in October,
hunting-hat orange in ebony sky,
sunlit autumn afternoons that flutter
through the heart like falling leaves.

Espantos #598

Hoje em Barcelona, momentos depois do pôr-do-sol

que coloriu o céu de laranja e rosa...

a diferença que faz o ajuste das definições da máquina fotográfica!

Numa sala perto de mim #419

High Noon (1952) tells the story of a sheriff in a remote town in the west that is threatened by the impending arrival on the noon train, of a band of criminals that terrorized it not long ago. On his wedding day the sheriff is abandoned by his wife, friends, deputies, and other figures of authority such as the judge and the priest. Also notable in the movie, the memorable song, Grace Kelly at 21 years old, the age disparity with Gary Cooper at 50.

Ditto #425

What is essential is invisible to the eye.

--Antoine de Saint Exupéry

Espantos #597

This weekend in London... curious to know whether

there was a spike after the referendum and in which direction.

Cores de Outono #68

Surprisingly, there are still fall colors in London

Caprichos #567

Tina. From Nutbush TN to the world.

Caprichos #566

Color coordinated breakfasts

Caprichos #565

Castanhas assadas... ainda que frias!

Ditto #424

Ever since we discovered that Earth is round and turns like a mad spinning-top, we have understood that reality is not as it appears to us: every time we glimpse a new aspect of it, it is a deeply emotional experience.

--Carlo Rovelli

Palavras lidas #441

December 1st
by Billy Collins

Today is my mother’s birthday,
but she’s not here to celebrate
by opening a flowery card
or looking calmly out a window.

If my mother were alive,
she’d be 114 years old,
and I am guessing neither of us
would be enjoying her birthday very much.

Mother, I would love to see you again
to take you shopping or to sit
in your sunny apartment with a pot of tea,
but it wouldn’t be the same at 114.

And I’m no prize either,
almost 20 years older than the last time
you saw me sitting by your deathbed.
Some days, I look worse than yesterday’s oatmeal.

Happy Birthday, anyway. Happy Birthday to you.
Here I am in a wallpapered room
raising a glass of birthday whiskey
and picturing your face, the brooch on your collar.

It must have been frigid that morning
in the hour just before dawn
on your first December 1st
at the family farm a hundred miles north of Toronto.

I imagine they had you wrapped up tight,
and there was your tiny pink face
sticking out of the bunting,
and all those McIsaacs getting used to saying your name.

Numa sala perto de mim #418

So long, my son (2019) shows the life of a family over thirty eventful years, coinciding with the Chinese take off for economic growth. The heartbreaking family story contrasts with the rising tide that should lift all boats. The pace of the movie is slow, but after three hours you walk out of the theatre with the feeling you needed that time to see these people age and sink in their fate. Remarkable acting.

Palavras lidas #440

Lines from To A Cat
by Algernon Charles Swinburne

Stately, kindly, lordly friend,
Condescend
Here to sit by me, and turn
Glorious eyes that smile and burn,
Golden eyes, love's lustrous meed,
On the golden page I read.

All your wondrous wealth of hair,
Dark and fair,
Silken-shaggy, soft and bright
As the clouds and beams of night,
Pays my reverent hand's caress
Back with friendlier gentleness.

Dogs may fawn on all and some
As they come;
You, a friend of loftier mind,
Answer friends alone in kind.
Just your foot upon my hand
Softly bids it understand.

Palavras lidas #439

Weren’t We Beautiful
by Marjorie Saiser

growing into ourselves
earnest and funny we were
some kind of alien, smiling
the light we lived in was gorgeous
we looked up and into the camera
the ordinary things we did with our hands
or how we turned and walked
or looked back we lifted the child
spooned food into his mouth
the camera held it, stayed it
there we are in our lives as if
we had all time
as if we would stand in that room
and wear that shirt those glasses
as if that light
without end
would shine on us
and from us.

Numa sala perto de mim #417

Oldboy (2003) tells the story of a man, imprisoned for 15 years for no apparent reason, and released thereafter with no explanation either. The clever plot takes us to unsettling events in the past leading to so many gruesome details in the present. Not quite the movie to enjoy but appreciate. The maddening soundtrack is absolutely appropriate!

Retirado do contexto #270

No dia dos 80 anos de Tina Turner...

... brevemente numa sala perto de nós!

Num país a fingir #61

Num país a fingir, o nível de amadorismo da papoila livre não deixa de surpreender. Há 4 anos, pelos vistos, a incompetência não foi aparente... agora, pouco mais de um mês depois do sucesso eleitoral já estalou o verniz. O pior cego é o que não quer ver.

Coisas que não mudam #530

E chegou aquela altura do ano em que vem tudo coberto de natal

And it's the time of the year when everything is covered in christmas

Parece que estou a ouvir #304

Dog days are over
Florence and the Machine

Happiness, hit her like a train on a track
Coming towards her, stuck still no turning back
She hid around corners and she hid under beds
She killed it with kisses and from it she fled
With every bubble she sank with a drink
And washed it away down the kitchen sink

The dog days are over
The dog days are done
The horses are coming so you better run

Run fast for your mother run fast for your father
Run for your children for your sisters and brothers
Leave all your love and your longing behind you
Can't carry it with you if you want to survive

The dog days are over
The dog days are done
Can't you hear the horses
'Cause here they come

And I never wanted anything from you
Except everything you had
And what was left after that too, oh.

Happiness hit her like a bullet in the back
Struck from a great height
By someone who should know better than that

The dog days are over
The dog days are done
Can you hear the horses
'Cause here they come

Run fast for your mother and fast for your father
Run for your children for your sisters and brothers
Leave all your love and your loving behind you
Can't carry it with you if you want to survive

The dog days are over
The dog days are done
Can you hear the horses
'Cause here they come

The dog days are over
The dog days are done
Can you hear the horses
'Cause here they come

The dog days are over
The dog days are done
The horses are coming
So you better run

Espantos #596

Hoje, na final da Taça dos Libertadores que opôs o Riverplate de Buenos Aires ao Flamengo do Rio de Janeiro, o Flamengo virou o jogo com dois golos nos 3 últimos minutos e ganhou o troféu que perseguia há 38 anos. Embora seja equivalente à europeia Liga dos Campeões, pouco se ouve falar da Taça dos Libertadores da América Latina. Este ano é excepção e toda a imprensa portuguesa está em cima do acontecimento... não fosse português, o treinador do clube brasileiro.

Coisas que não mudam #529

22 de Novembro é dia de Santa Cecilia, padroeira dos músicos, aparece sempre representada com um instrumento musical, por exemplo um órgão, ou um violino. A sua festa é celebrada pela igreja desde o século IV. Hoje, em todo o mundo há concertos em sua honra.

Palavras lidas #438

Rolfie, standing and staring

Leisure Poem

by W.H. Davies

What is this life if, full of care,

We have no time to stand and stare.

No time to stand beneath the boughs

And stare as long as sheep or cows.

No time to see, when woods we pass,

Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass.

No time to see, in broad daylight,

Streams full of stars, like skies at night.

No time to turn at Beauty's glance,

And watch her feet, how they can dance.

No time to wait till her mouth can

Enrich that smile her eyes began.

A poor life this if, full of care,

We have no time to stand and stare.

Ditto #423

Man is born free, and everywhere he is in chains.

--Jean-Jacques Rousseau

Numa sala perto de mim #416

Blinded by the light (2019) tells the story of a teen from an immigrant working class family in a depressing town, who finds the music of Bruce Springsteen and is finally able to respond to his calling of being a writer. The potential in every teenager depends on so many things: talent, friends, family background, attentive teachers, accidental events like coming across someone's work and actually paying attention to it.

Foi neste dia #349 (1724)

Há 295 anos morria com 38 anos, Bartolomeu de Gusmão, o padre jesuíta inventor da passarola voadora que demonstrou em audiência real em 1709. Foi perseguido pela inquisição por alegadas simpatias judaicas. Fugiu para Espanha em Setembro de 1724 com intenções de chegar a Inglaterra, mas viria a adoecer em Toledo onde faleceu.

Numa sala perto de mim #415

The Good Liar (2019) tells the story of a dating elderly couple who gets involved somewhat fast, making irreversible choices. The multi-layered past is complex, only revealed as needed, and ultimately comes in the way of current decisions. The intriguing question throughout the movie is whether the good liar is a person that lies well, or a liar who is nevertheless a good person. The answer may include neither or both.

Foi neste dia #348 (1940)

The Coventry Blitz happened 79 years ago

O bombardeamento de Coventry foi há 79 anos

Foi neste dia #347 (1969)

Há cinquenta anos partia a Apollo 12 que levaria à segunda missão lunar da NASA, quatro meses depois da primeira, mostrando que aquela não tinha sido um acaso.

Fifty years ago Apollo 12 lifted off for NASA's second lunar mission, four months after the first, showing that that had not been a fluke.

Numa sala perto de mim #414

Pain and Glory (2019) tells the story of an old-ish and very successful film director constantly dealing with pain, remembering the marking moments of his life, and coming to terms with the impact of his past decisions. Beautifully shot and acted. Captivating entering and ending credits with music and visuals that stick in your mind. It's Almodóvar after all.

Palavras lidas #437

Write Me a Love Poem
by Connie K. Walle

Fill it with my favorite
flower and perfume,
a glass of champagne,
a bite of caviar.

Whisper sweet words to me,
your back turned
to the other people
in the room.

Let your face light up
with delight,
thoughts close to your heart,
you will share later
at a better time and place.

After 30 years,
there can still be surprises.
This is your chance
and I am waiting.

Ditto #422

When a man loves cats, I am his friend and comrade, without further introduction.

--Mark Twain

Coisas que não mudam #528

Remembrance Sunday

Foi neste dia #346 (1989)

30th anniversary of the fall of the Berlin Wall

Two wonderful articles in the New York Times try to convey the excitement of that  not so distant November 9th, as well as the unravelling of events leading to such an unexpected outcome, and the absurdity of practical matters associated with the wall, and the dramatic influence it had on people's lives. I select the passages that struck me most:

"The wall through Berlin was actually two parallel cement barriers with a no man’s land between, and in the in-between haven of this strip rabbits had multiplied like, well, rabbits, often fed by tourists from the observation platforms built along the wall on the West Berlin side.

After the border crossings fell open, thousands of people began chipping away at the wall itself — a tough, noisy and, in my case, painful exercise (I smashed my thumb with a hammer). Before long, gaps appeared in the wall, and out hopped the bunnies, into what they probably believed was a world paved with lettuce. Alas, it proved to be a world teeming with cats, dogs and cars."

"A generation has passed since that fateful day — more years than the 28 years in which the wall loomed. The exhilaration that seized us all back then seems almost quaintly utopian now. The promise of coming together in a free and democratic world has given way, in many places, to new divisions and new hostilities; nationalistic and tribal instincts are on the loose, and the lifting of draconian censorship has been replaced by the deeply troubling information jungle of the internet and the ubiquity of surveillance technology that the Stasi could scarcely imagine."

"When I think back on that long, extraordinary night, I refuse to accept that nothing changed, that the world stayed just as bad, only in different ways, that the hopes raised were false.

The people who flooded through the wall that night, and all the other people who rose up against tyranny across the crumbling Soviet empire, and then in “color” revolutions of that empire’s corrupt successors, and then in the Arab world, and now in Hong Kong and Chile, demonstrate that tyranny is not the choice of the tyrannized, that hope never dies behind a wall, and people will finally crash through and dance their hearts out in the name of freedom."

__________

"The youngest victim was 15-month-old Holger H., who suffocated when his mother tried to quiet him while the truck his family was hiding in was being searched on Jan. 22, 1971. The parents made it across before realizing that their baby was dead."

"Years later, after reading his own Stasi file, he learned that special commandos had bugged his home, updating the technology whenever he was on holiday with his family."

"That, said Axel Klausmeier, director of the Berlin Wall Foundation, was perhaps the greatest miracle of that night. “It was a peaceful revolution, the first of its kind,” he said. “They were prepared for everything, except candles and prayers.”"

"when the Cold War’s most notorious armed border opened overnight, and was torn apart in the days that followed, it was not in the end the result of some carefully crafted geopolitical grand bargain.

It was, at the most basic level at least, the wondrous result of human error, spontaneity and individual courage.

Against the backdrop of mass protests and a wave of eastern German refugees that had already fled the country via Hungary and what was then Czechoslovakia, Günter Schabowski, the leader of the East Berlin Communist Party, convened journalists to announce a series of reforms to ease travel restrictions.

When asked when the new rules would take effect, Mr. Schabowski paused and studied the notes before him with a furrowed brow. Then he stumbled through a partially intelligible answer, declaring, “It takes effect, as far as I know... it is now... immediately.” It was a mistake. The Politburo had planned nothing of the sort. The idea had been to appease the growing resistance movement with minor adjustments to visa rules — and also to retain the power to deny travel.

But many took Mr. Schabowski by his word."

"Complacency is dangerous, said Ms. Applebaum: “The lesson is: Societies that don’t reform, die.”"

Espantos #595

Understatement of the day

I wouldn't say partially...

 there are quite a few clouds and they are all down here!

Parece que estou a ouvir #303

A mulher que já foi tua
Amália Rodrigues

Mudou-se para a nossa rua

Aquela que já foi tua
E perde o tempo à janela;
Se passas, ela sorri

Mas não olha mais p'ra ti
Por me ver olhar p'ra ela

Sabe quando entras e sais

D'onde vens, p'ra onde vais
Pois é esse seu desejo
E faz tudo p'ra te ver

Eu tudo tento fazer
Só p'ra ela ver que eu vejo

Noutro dia tive dó

Porque assim que se viu só
Foi para dentro a chorar
E eu tive pena daquela

Que passa a vida à janela
Só para te ver passar

Mudou-se para a nossa rua

A mulher que já foi tua
P'ra que junto dela passes
Não fez tudo o que devia

Pois muito mais eu faria
Se por outra me trocasses

__________

Para terminar por hoje a sequência de fados fica este último que transmite sentimentos contraditórios de ciúme e compaixão. Certos fados de melodia triste (parece que este dá pelo nome de fado bacalhau) só se dão com letras tristes também. Aqui ficam dois exemplos.

Parece que estou a ouvir #302

Zanguei-me com o meu amor
Linhares Barbosa

Zanguei-me com o meu amor
Não o vi em todo o dia
À noite cantei melhor
O fado da Mouraria

O sopro de uma saudade
Vinha beijar-me hora a hora
Para ficar mais à vontade
Mandei a saudade embora

De manhã arrependida
Lembrei e pus-me a chorar
Quem perde o amor na vida
Jamais devia cantar

Quando regressou ao ninho
Ele que nem assobia
Vinha a assobiar baixinho
O fado da Mouraria

__________

Não tão descontraído e alegre, mas ainda com um final feliz, fica um interessante arranjo de Maria Ana Bobone, que contrasta com o tradicional registo de Amália.

Parece que estou a ouvir #301

Dá-me o braço anda daí
Linhares Barbosa & José Blanc

Dá-me o braço, anda daí!

Vem porque eu quero cantar!
Cantar encostada a ti
Sentir cair a luz do luar!
Cantar encostada a ti,
Até a noite acabar!

Vê que esta rosa encarnada
Me faz mais apetitosa?
Somos três da vida airada,
Ao pé de ti, sinto-me vaidosa!
Somos três da vida airada,
Eu, tu e mais esta rosa!

Quero sentir o prazer
De passarmos lado a lado,
Ao lado dessa mulher
Que tens agora e não canta o fado!
Ao lado dessa mulher
Com quem me tens enganado!

Depois bate-se para as hortas,
Adoro esta vida airada
Beijar-te de fora de portas,
E alta noite, à hora calada!
Beijar-te fora de portas,
E amar-te à porta fechada!

Foi neste dia #345 (1919)

Há 100 anos nascia no Porto Sophia de Mello Breyner Andersen

Inscrição

Quando eu morrer voltarei para buscar

Os instantes que não vivi junto do mar.

Palavras lidas #436

Tenderness
by Ann Fisher-Wirth

When I wake, afraid,
the light on the deck next door
where the frat boys live
who have tumbled into sleep
after much beer
and after sprinting up and down
the street with their
black Labs, chasing frisbees,
calling, Yo, got it man––
the light they forgot to flick off
after grilling burgers
on the deck, just like they forget
to water their yard or take
their garbage cans off the street––
this random, ordinary light
shines among the inky trees
and through the thick
music of locusts and tree frogs
as if to call me home,

like a candle in the window
of a fairy tale cottage
at the heart of the dunkel,
dunkel Wald––or the safety
I felt when I was small, when
my little sister and I would sleep,
legs curled around legs and heads
pillowed against the doors
in the back seat of the green
Chrysler, as our mother
rested her cheek on her hand
and hummed peacefully
out the side window,
and our father drove through
the cool September night from
the Tuscarora Mountains––
then I would wake groggy
to see the garage light
waiting for us, and one of them
would carry me up to bed.

Ditto #421

People have a hard time accepting anything that overwhelms them.

--Bob Dylan