Coisas que não mudam #508

Strong summer colors

Ditto #411

Real generosity toward the future lies in giving all to the present.

--Albert Camus

Coisas que não mudam #507

Ultimamente... ou paisagens do Porto Santo

Palavras lidas #419

On Joy and Sorrow
by Kahlil Gibran

Then a woman said, Speak to us of Joy and Sorrow.
And he answered:
Your joy is your sorrow unmasked.
And the selfsame well from which your laughter rises was oftentimes filled with your tears.
And how else can it be?
The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.
Is not the cup that holds your wine the very cup that was burned in the potter’s oven?
And is not the lute that soothes your spirit, the very wood that was hollowed with knives?
When you are joyous, look deep into your heart and you shall find it is only that which has given you sorrow that is giving you joy.
When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight.

Some of you say, “Joy is greater than sorrow,” and others say, “Nay, sorrow is the greater.”
But I say unto you, they are inseparable.
Together they come, and when one sits alone with you at your board, remember that the other is asleep upon your bed.

Verily you are suspended like scales between your sorrow and your joy.
Only when you are empty are you at standstill and balanced.
When the treasure-keeper lifts you to weigh his gold and his silver, needs must your joy or your sorrow rise or fall.

Coisas que não mudam #506

Em noite de São Pedro, o último dos santos populares...

Coisas que não mudam #505

A praia do Porto Santo

Caprichos #550

Em Lisboa, explorando novos locais para pastel de nata...

brunch/almoço no delidelux junto ao rio

e um bubble tea com muuuuitas bolas de tapioca.

Mimada!

Coisas que não mudam #504

Spanish airports

Aeroportos Espanhóis

Primavera #106

Fascinated by the details!

Fascinada pelos detalhes!

Palavras lidas #418

From the Writer's Almanac (yes it's back!!), on Saint John's night:

Tonight is Midsummer Night’s Eve, also called St. John’s Eve. St. John is the patron saint of beekeepers. It’s a time when the hives are full of honey. The full moon that occurs this month was called the Mead Moon, because honey was fermented to make mead, and that’s where the word “honeymoon” comes from. It is a time for lovers. An old Swedish proverb says, “Midsummer Night is not long but it sets many cradles rocking.

Shakespeare set his play A Midsummer Night’s Dream on this night. It tells the story of two young couples who wander into a magical forest outside Athens. In the play, Shakespeare wrote, “The course of true love never did run smooth.”

Caprichos #549

O melhor frango frito de Barcelona está no Rooq

o trabalho e a dedicação notam-se na comida deliciosa!

Coisas que não mudam #503

Em Barcelona, pelo Corpo de Deus, bailam ovos

em fontes floridas

Caprichos #548

Gazpacho antes...

y después

Espantos #583

Among my favorites: waking up early and watching the sunrise.

Numa sala perto de mim #407

Celle que vous croyez* (2019) is a movie centered around a woman who the audience only discovers little by little. The layers of one's personality are never simple and the barrier between normality and obsession is, at times, ever so thin. Quite a few unexpected twists.

_________

*You you think I am 

Caprichos #547

Delicious Japanese food...

Palavras lidas #417

Dear Nainai,
by Jennifer Tseng

Every day you sink into her
To make room for me.
When I die, I sink into you,
When Xing dies, she sinks
Into me, her child dies &
Sinks into Xing & the Earth,
Who is always ravenous,
Swallows us.
I don’t know where you’re buried.
I don’t know your sons’ names,
Only their numbers & fates:
#2 was murdered, #3 went to jail, #4 hung himself, #5, who did the

cooking & cleaning, is alive.
#1, my father, died of pancreatic cancer. Of bacon & lunch meat &

Napoleons.
Your husband died young, of Double Happiness, unfiltered.
You died of Time,
Of motherhood,
Of being the boss,
Of working in a sock factory,
Of an everyday ailment
For which there is no cure.
I am alone, like a number.
#1 writes me a letter:
My dearest Jenny,
Do you know Rigoberta Menchú, this name?
There were also silences about Chinese girls, Oriental women.
In field of literature, you must be strong enough to bear all these.
An ivory tower writer can never be successful.
You are almost living like a hermit.
Are you coming home soon?
He doesn’t mention you.
Perfect defect.
Hidden flaw in the cloth,
Yellow bead in the family regalia.
Bidden to be understory,
Silences, pored & poured over.
You are almost living.
You say hello to me quietly.
What is success? Meat? Pastries?
Cigarettes? The cessation of
Communion with self?
I want to be eaten
By an ivory tower,
Devoured by the power
Of my own solitude.
We’re alone together.
I read the letter every day before death.
Where are you buried, Nainai?
I’m coming home soon.

Ditto #410

Progress is never permanent, will always be threatened, must be redoubled, restated and reimagined if it is to survive.

--Zadie Smith

Coisas que não mudam #502

The fight against Global Warming does not stop

and yet the world does not seem to listen.

Coisas que não mudam #501

Sem livro nem flor, só segurando a criança com as duas mãos

... em dia de Santo António!