All of a Sudden I Miss Everyone

from summer

2012-01-29T15:19:00.001+01:00

More pictures from the old developed rolls. Taken with Canon and Praktica during the summer of 2010.

colors

2012-01-23T13:58:00.000+01:00

Canon Eos 300 - AGFA ISO 200 2 years expired ( From last winter)
Sweden - Stockholm ( January)
not edited.

Old memories have a different weight. As an example, remembering the a first time I listened to a new song, it's the same warmness of traveling to a new place.

Sometimes everything looks like a movie.

the old pictures

2012-01-18T18:33:00.000+01:00

Canon Eos 300, Fotomax Iso 400

1. Claudio in his bedroom - Portogruaro , September 07

2. Castle in the water - Sirmione, April 07

3. Feet - Lago di Garda , April 07

Praktica LTL , Kodak Iso 400

4. Reidar in the backyard - Norrkoping , July 09

5. Car on the road between Stockholm and Norrkoping, July 09

I't's been a long intense year.

green

2011-10-15T17:26:00.000+02:00

1. Forest. Santiago de Compostela. April 2011

2. Countryside road. Menorca. October 2011

blue

2011-10-03T02:09:00.000+02:00

still here

2011-09-21T12:19:00.000+02:00

metro

2011-08-11T14:48:00.004+02:00

Madrid - May 2011

Gordo

2011-07-15T04:43:00.003+02:00

Gordo Na Macaret - Menorca, June, 2011.

Polaroids from Italy II, Tati and me

2011-07-11T06:58:00.003+02:00

Space is the only noise if you can see - Nicolas Jaar

michelle

2011-07-01T02:38:00.003+02:00

Painted by Marc Moroux.

.

2011-05-05T05:51:00.002+02:00

Galicia PT. I

day 2,

morning

1 and 2 - Mera, Oleiros

3 to 8 - A Coruña

I didn't expect to find such a beautiful place. Serene and sweet. I wonder if the unusual happens to everyone. I can't explain how it feels to see the atlantic from the other side.

5 years.

afternoon

2 - 6: Marine Restaurant, A Coruña

5: A Coruña, Painting, Francisco Franco - (here)

6: King Juan Carlos I of Spain (here)

"Is she your daughter? Ah, so, ah little girl it's such a great compliment, you look like a baby"

Timestretched- The Divine Comedy

There's not enough hours in the day

To say all that I want to say

There's not enough days in the week

And weeks go by quicker than drunks knock back liquor

There's not enough weeks in the month

To do all that needs to be done

There's not enough months in the year

And years disappear like the bubbles in my beer

Timestretched

There's not enough lines on the stave

To capture the music I crave

There's not enough strings to my bow

And even the barmen know extracts from Carmen

There's not enough notes in this scale

It feels like I'm chasing my tail

There's not enough beats in the bar

And bars get too busy with folks asking "is he?"

Israel

2011-05-01T20:35:00.002+02:00

Masada & Dead Sea, Israel, Summer 2007.

1. Masada, mountains

2. the dead sea, Jordan in the other side.

I will be publishing more pictures from this trip in the following days.

Límites - Juan Gelma

¿ Quién dijo alguna vez: hasta aqui la sed,

hasta aquí el agua ?

¿ Quién dijo alguna vez: hasta aquí el aire,

hasta aquí el fuego ?

¿ Quién dijo alguna vez: hasta aquí el amor,

hasta aqui el odio ?

¿ Quién dijo alguna vez: hasta aquí el hombre,

hasta aquí no ?

Sólo la esperanza tiene las rodillas nítidas

Sangran.

Paul Simon – April Come She Will

Inpirations

2011-04-29T00:33:00.001+02:00

o gato comeu a lingua.

madrid

2011-04-14T03:51:00.002+02:00

estoy en madrid.

I will be here for a month.

sketches

2011-04-08T19:40:00.003+02:00

I always loved sketching, it's relaxing

madrid.

april

2011-04-03T23:10:00.000+02:00

Foggy days.

Feels good hiding behind the trees.

memorias de guapé

2011-03-28T20:00:00.001+02:00

Guapé (here) - Minas Gerais, Brasil

Minha mae nasceu la, a sua mae, e avó.
My mother was born there, so was her mother and grandmother.

É parte das minhas memorias de infancia, eu lembro correndo por Todos os lados, subindo em arvores, comendo frutas direto das arvores.
This place is part of my childhoold memories, I remember running around and climbing trees. eating fresh fruits directly from the tree.

Os cachorros, gatos, vacas, macacos e passáros vivem em harmonia. Eles preferem o calor e a sombra.
The dogs, cats, cows, monkeys, and the birds live all in harmony. They prefer the warmth and the shade.

A cidade foi inundada para a construçao da hidrelétrica, hoje a antiga casa fica no meio do rio, e o que restou das nossas terras sao pequenas ilhas, o transporte via balsa é extremamente necessário conectando plantaçoes a terra firme. A cidade um dia teve turistas e comercio, hoje porem é uma cidadezinha qualquer perdida no meio do nada.
The town was flooded in 1963 to build a dam, today the old house is in the middle of the river, and what's left from our lands are little small islands, the ferry is a transportation of extreme importance connecting the farms to the main land. It once had tourists and commerce, today though it's just a small town lost in the middle of nowhere.

o verde lá é o meu verde.

the green there is my green.

smile!

2011-03-28T15:41:00.007+02:00

pictures from wadi rum, december 2010

I recently got awarded by the awesome Felix Curds from Happy Un-birthdays with the Versatile BloggerAward. I usually don't answer awards because I think there is nothing important from my routine to be shared, therefore I'm making an exception because felix and everyone here gives me so many lovely insightful inputs, so why not sharing a little about my insignificant existence ;)
Part of the award is to share 7 facts about one self then share some love and pass it on. (felix I copied your text a bit, lol, my bad english and laziness are bigger than me)

I'm sharing it with leno, indie.tea,Ella, Sina kauri, Emilia

It's hard to write 7 things about myself, but I will try. ok, so here we go,

1. I never smile on pictures, mostly the self-portraits, it makes me feel ridiculous sitting all alone smiling to a camera. yeah, I hate my smile and my prominent fangs.

2. I am anti-social and I love my sofa, in swedish it's called Soffpotatis, the introspectiveness I share with a lot of music and my favorite movies.

3. I hate the subways and public transportations on weekends, it stinks of alcohol, seriously I can drink but sweds drink way too much when they do.

4. I have 7 siblings from 2 different families, I'm the oldest...yeah, no tv.

5. I bake almost everyday.

6. My friends call me little walking disaster, because I'm always tripping on my shoes, falling from the bicycle, walking with my skirt tucked in my underwear leaving behind a map of bruises.

7. In my ideal word we should all live in a movie. Daydreaming is much more interesting than reality.

That's it.

beijos

drive to read

2011-03-22T18:50:00.005+01:00

When I was In jordan I gave a photography workshop for children from unprivileged areas (East Amman and Zarqa) who were taking part of a USAID/AED-founded project called "DRIVE TO READ".

"Through the program‚ a mobile library offers free educational‚ cultural‚ and recreational activities to young people ages 6–12 in Amman‚ Jordan.
Three times a week‚ the “bookmobile” visits parks‚ schools‚ and community centers in high-need neighborhoods‚ including those with large concentrations of refugees.
Drive to Read provides a versatile platform for promoting a culture of reading for education and for pleasure. It engages children and youth in the art projects‚ science demonstrations‚ computers‚ and other activities that reinforce learning."

My task was to give them portable cameras, teach them the basics of photography and to show them an artistic point of view. They were all given the assignment to create a story around a photo. The goal with the project was also to encourage them to become inspired by photography, and to teach them see what lies beyond the pictures.

I was so happy when Angie (4th picture) sent me the photos they took. It felt like I was part of something, that in a very small way I made a difference...

budapest, birds & me

2011-03-10T17:56:00.002+01:00

On my way to Jordan I stopped in Budapest for a day. Walking on the Pest side I met a crazy french painter, he sais he's going to paint me. I didn't speak french and he didn't speak english, we understood each other perfectly.

The portrait was taken right after I Arrived in Amman.

I wish I could be free like a bird and my actions would never make anybody suffer, but perhaps that's a bit too utopic.

Love, love & love
I got a dark room for my birthday from Petter, the most thoughtful gift I ever got.

I love this band.
All Alone in an empty house - Lost in trees

hazey jane

2011-03-02T12:11:00.001+01:00

first two from helgo during summer, the last from summer in castilleja del campo, sevilla, spain.

Happy birthday to me, 26.

miss brasil, my mom, fresh fruits & warmth.

miss being close to the ones that matter

I can adapt but never conform.

All of a Sudden I miss everyone

Hazey Jane - Nick Drake

Do you curse where you come from,

Do you swear in the night

Will it mean much to you

If I treat you right.

Do you like what you're doing,

Would you do it some more

Or will you stop once and wonder

What you're doing it for.

Hey slow Jane, make sense

Slow, slow, Jane, cross the fence.

Do you feel like a remnant

Of something that's past

Do you find things are moving

Just a little too fast.

Do you hope to find new ways

Of quenching your thirst,

Do you hope to find new ways

Of doing better than your worst.

Hey slow Jane, let me prove

Slow, slow Jane, we're on the move.

Do it for you,

Sure that you would do the same for me one day.

So try to be true,

Even if it's only in your hazey way.

Can you tell if you're moving

With no mirror to see,

If you're just riding a new man

Looks a little like me.

Is it all so confusing,

Is it hard to believe

When the winter is coming

Can you sign up and leave.

Hey slow Jane, live your lie

Slow, slow jane, fly on by.

a wide wild sea

2011-02-26T01:39:00.000+01:00

I was in venice for five days,

we were hidden before our masks

my venezia

so many memories lost in those streets

and thanks to smog and his lyrics.

amuse me

2011-02-08T00:57:00.002+01:00

I've made this short series for Isabel from "The magic box that came to the other side", she writes with poetry, check the little story she wrote here, it's in spanish for anyone that can read.

I feel so deeply honored, I'm amused to be featured among people with REAL talent.

Estoy enamorada de sus palabras.

con amor, mucho amor desde mi bolsillo

michelle

missing spring

2011-02-04T22:47:00.000+01:00

I am missing Spring, fresh flowers, Helgö, firewood, colors and honest feelings.

helgö was the first place I visited In Sweden, the magic red cabin.

Some people shall never become friends, they are better the way they are, platonic. I know it might seem selfish or arrogant, it's not. I am not losing my hopes, I'm just learning how to live with myself, I have too much love...so much love that it hurts.

So for now I will drink a cup of darjeeling tea and remember the smell of spring flowers.

world of little mirrors in the light

2011-01-12T21:27:00.000+01:00

Pictures from Jordan and Egypt

My life has always been a rollercoaster, moments of excruciating pain and extraordinary happyness. I have learned how to live and digest both while it's happening, wich isn't easy, You live knowing it's going to end sometime...

I am never afraid of falling, I know if I fall the pain will be great but so will be the memories in the back of my head. I carry with me in my left pocket all the people I have learned something from, even people I never met. I have this friend, she is afraid of aging so she erases memories and dreams, there is a quote from Anais Nin, wich describes exactly what i think about her fear of dreaming: "Life shrinks and expands in proportions of one's courage"

Now I am back to my routine, and I refuse to suffer for my memories, and if I die now I believed I have lived my life fully.

I dedicate this post to all the people I met, all the people who changed me.

I have missed all of you, and thanks to the new followers, it makes me happy to see so much love.

wadi rum

2010-12-14T12:49:00.000+01:00

The life in the desert has no compartments, no doors closed.

The sand storm was scary and beautiful, the stars made me feel small, staying with the beduins was real, the real thing.

We don't change, but we are never the same

Atala's grandfather (the beduin guide) fought with lawrence of arabia

The little boy is sent to desert for weeks to shepard the goats, camels on his own.

leno, I'm not sad, I'm thoughtful.

I will never forget these days, I am young and blessed.

Egypt now.

(Thank you for all the insightful comments, I will catch up coming back)

youth

2010-12-06T14:14:00.000+01:00

2010-12-05T23:51:00.000+01:00

How are you doing?

I'm observing.

deserted

2010-11-25T13:06:00.001+01:00

the innocence to love is gone.

There is just a huge desert of dry feelings.

It only rains one time a year, it's time to rain. my skin feels dry...

" You don't even know their names anymore"

desert castles route - Jordan nov. 10 - close to Saudi Arabia

farewell

2010-11-17T18:21:00.001+01:00

I am going to Jordan again, it's my third time...my body is longing to tastes, sounds, smells again.
I will also go to Egypt...When I am on the road my blood burns...it's a kind of happiness that I can't describe.

Happyness is only good when shared.

-
Oriana is a princess, she wants to be a chef, a rock star, and to be loved. Traveling there last time made me realize how kids from everywhere have the same dreams. It's beautiful to see all sort of princes and princesses.

-
I don't know if I will have time to post in the following month, I don't know where I will be, and what I will eat, I know I will come back different.

So, I am leaving these 2 posts. See you in a while and thank you for all the lovely comments.

beijos no coraçao.

hej då

2010-11-17T15:37:00.000+01:00

There is a mystic surprise waiting outside, the day turned magic to a sweet farewell. Everything is cover in frost and, the sky came with me abandoning the sharpness.

I grew up inside my own imaginary world, I travelled with every single word with marguerite duras, the foggy prague with Kundera, the melancholic lisbon with Eça de queiros, this world of poetry only made my wings grow bigger an bigger.

Tomorrow I am flying again...flying to an old world.

I'm curious, I am a dreamer. Ahhh, let me burn, burn like kerouak...

sugar

2010-11-12T15:12:00.001+01:00

The sky was crying sugar, to sweet the dark hours, spreading sweetness to our lifes...I was hiking in the forest when i saw a naked man jogging.

I sat there in the top of the mountain and i felt young. Ryland bouchard was singing sugar to me.

You will hug me when you come back? I can't wait to spend time in the lake house again.

only bored as I get older

2010-11-04T15:09:00.000+01:00

"Only bored as I get older". Ah strangers, I like to observe you through your windows, but I can't stand having you

inside my life.

We are too young to wait & I'm sorry to get angry and not understanding your selfishness.

I have this song inside me - listen - Deerhunter - He would have laughed

Should we try to fit?

* I've been featured at Sweeat Zine!*

I am very happy to be part of such a great gathering of young artists, Thank you Jess for displaying my work to the

world. I will be waiting impatient for the hard copy.

View ISSUE±6 of SWEAT //HER E//

.

2010-11-01T05:01:00.003+01:00

During summer people bloom, now they are strangers sighting light.

Yesterday mom,I couldn't sleep, I thought how lonely I feel sometimes....I know you feel lonely, I see you are sitting in your bed counting the bags of coins, missing the void of the oxygen machine.

Sometimes we should let go...let the room shrink and don't cry.

afternoon

2010-10-18T18:16:00.002+02:00

Waking up with Chopin & the pression cooker
You sitting by the windows in "our old" afternoons

Me sitting in the sofa with the big earphones. Soon I will be traveling.

hello stranger

2010-10-13T22:49:00.000+02:00

There is something about them, about strangers. They amaze me.

13

2010-10-07T00:23:00.003+02:00

I can't even begin to explain. I think about the orange flowers.

my heart .

Her hand in the darkness
I follow for so long
your voice in my ear
carry me back home
wishing you'd consider
a change of heart
but all are so bitter
and we will never stop
...
help me back home
why won't you consider?

change of heart - El perro del mar

croacia

2010-09-22T19:18:00.005+02:00

autumn is here

2010-09-17T15:54:00.009+02:00

I got a new camera, and I am not quite used to it yet, here some of the shots.

It has been quite rainy...I love rain, but it makes me sad to see that everything soon will fall and the trees will be naked.

Remember

2010-09-08T00:12:00.008+02:00

I Come From There

I come from there and I have memories
Born as mortals are, I have a mother
And a house with many windows,
I have brothers, friends,
And a prison cell with a cold window.
Mine is the wave, snatched by sea-gulls,
I have my own view,
And an extra blade of grass.
Mine is the moon at the far edge of the words,
And the bounty of birds,
And the immortal olive tree.
I walked this land before the swords
Turned its living body into a laden table.

I come from there. I render the sky unto her mother
When the sky weeps for her mother.
And I weep to make myself known
To a returning cloud.
I learnt all the words worthy of the court of blood
So that I could break the rule.
I learnt all the words and broke them up
To make a single word: Homeland.....

Mahmoud Darwish

Pictures taken in Amman, Jordan, 2009

To see the whole series, click here.

Winter Sleepwalking

2010-09-01T14:26:00.006+02:00

Winter Sleepwalking is a series of pictures to which I have devoted myself to during my winter times, going back and forth between Spain and Sweden. The duality in the the two worlds, experiences, emotions and dreams. 2007 - 2009.

To see the whole series go to www.michelle-martins.com .the website had some changes, hope you will enjoy.

We are daydreaming, we are sleepwalking, we came across landscapes, they move so fast, they move us inside.

It's time to wake up, to remember the flowers blooming in sevilla again. Keep your watches, I will keep mine.

It's pure love, real love.

paris

2010-08-09T15:55:00.005+02:00

1.200 km de estrada, musica e petas.

Chovia durante o dia e ainda posso escutar o farfalhar das saias, dos casacos de inverno, o toc toc dos sapatos nas poças d'agua.

A melancolica solitaria dos seus transeuntes solteiros.

Até a sua arrogancia paris me pareceu doce, o meu coraçao entao vazio se encheu dessa alegria pura, bucólica .

midsummer roll

2010-08-05T15:31:00.002+02:00

"If a person is touched by poetry or artor literature in general, his soul thrings with these displacements and cannot be cured by anything, not even the homeland."
"He clings to his own way of receiving the world and his own way of transmitting it."
"It is unavoidable that he should ne taken lightly by those that hold the ready recipes; those who live by the normal and the known; those who say he is "moddy" "changeable" "unreliable" and so on through all the adjectives stacked like pickles in their shelves; those who do not know anxiety, who deal with life with unseemly ease."

Mourid Barghouti

to be alone with you

2010-08-03T16:51:00.002+02:00

last.fm y nick drake

16 hours Sevilla - barcelona and a forced sunrise on the beach.
3 de agosto de 2008, Barcelona- brussells- stokcholm.

We met in unusual cirunstances, but what is usual ?

i love you.

Polaroids from italy

2010-07-29T18:23:00.003+02:00

to tatiana

We got lost in the narrow streets, betting our dreams for lovers, drink ourselves around the fountains.

We were so naive, we raised dreams in flooded houses, I still can feel the adrenaline while running the labyrinth, we didn't have much, just love enchanting our hearts...

... I miss our innocence in 2007. these memories are now collected in a drawer without a handle...

Venice, Venice, the old buildings falling apart, the wild carnival behind masks, we have hidden our shadows behind a layer of magic. Don't worry, this city is know by it's majestic power of keeping secrets, one day the same mesmerizing waves will wash all of that away...

the men of salt

2010-07-27T20:04:00.003+02:00

Indian christian living in salt, he invited me to his house offered me tea and told me his story, it was lonely,
beautiful, but full of joy in a way, his eyes transmitted the spirit of a good heart, unfortunately i don't remember his name, so i call him "the man of salt.

I saw many things walking, this girl running with her hair uncovered, birds, food, skirts moving, but what i will remember is that man.

raspberries & strangers

2010-07-21T01:54:00.007+02:00

Sometimes you give, and give, but it isn't enough...

don't tell me you like nick drake.

Jag pratar inte svenska

Inspiration II

2010-07-18T22:37:00.000+02:00

One fine day - Takeshi Kitano

Stockholm Suburbs

2010-07-18T14:55:00.004+02:00

The beautiful Suburbs

another bycicle gone...c'est la vie

Les temps sont durs pour les rêveurs.

2010-07-17T21:25:00.001+02:00

Born For Hard Luck - peg leg bates

Horse tour de france

tell me you will...

2010-07-11T14:57:00.000+02:00

society

2010-07-10T13:00:00.002+02:00

society can be gross and scary, i supose we should try to fit, or not?

somewhere

2010-07-09T23:21:00.000+02:00

I always wondered if you were travelling, where did you go, did you love? did you dream? did you get sad?

if we would drink a beer,
if we would tell each other stupid jokes,

or if it's is just a dream and we would be gone instead...

day at the beach

2010-07-08T16:49:00.007+02:00

It is ~~not~~ a road movie. It is ~~not~~ a love story. It is a life story.

in the end...

"Travel can be one of the most rewarding forms of introspection" Lawrence Durrell

Ola Podrida - day at the beach

On the beach I limped and held your weary hand

That windy day we slept well past noon

Too busy counting every grain of sand

To even have a ghost of a clue

I played in the waves like a five-year-old child

Timing my jumps with the rolling tide

I never looked to see you on the shore

Planning your escape and drying your eyes

Had you known for a week, a month, or a year

Had you been trying in vain to let me know

Somehow I never noticed your tears

And sitting there smiling I watched you go

I laid on back, listening to the waves

Humming a song that you never knew

The water wet your feet

As you crossed through the sand

And whispered that you'd be back soon

I never thought to ask you when

Blind to the sorrow you were laying to rest

I never thought to tell you to jump back in

And sitting there smiling I watched you go

te quiero

4 months

2010-07-07T03:17:00.069+02:00

Hoje assisti um pedaço de cidade homens enquanto comia, sao como os meninos do meu bairro, sem camiseta jogando bola até as 11 da noite.

This time i've needed four months to feel something, everytime it takes longer...

" se essa rua, se essa rua fosse minha eu mandava ela brilhar"

Saudades

green

2010-07-05T13:50:00.000+02:00

L' Inspiration 1

2010-07-02T12:34:00.003+02:00

The Unbearable Lightness of Being is a 1988 American film adaptation of the novel of the same name by Milan Kundera, published in 1984. Director Philip Kaufman.

- "Tomas did not realize at the time that metaphors are dangerous. Metaphors are not to be trifled with. A single metaphor can give birth to love."

- "For there is nothing heavier than compassion. Not even one's own pain weighs so heavy as the pain one feels with someone, for someone, a pain intensified by the imagination and prolonged by a hundred echoes."

- “without weight...and whether it was horrible, beautiful, or sublime...means nothing.” Each life is insignificant; every decision does not matter. Since decisions do not matter, they are "light": they do not tie us down. However, at the same time, the insignificance of our decisions - our lives, or being - is unbearable"

- "What then shall we choose? Weight or lightness?"

...

Window

2010-07-01T13:41:00.002+02:00

The Album Leaf - window

Carta aberta a mi, de walker caminante

2010-07-01T01:44:00.000+02:00

carta aberta a mi.

não é à tôa que mi é o tom intermediário entre o inconsequente ré e a taciturna nota fá. mi é o aquele tom como quem já viu de tudo mas espera um pouco mais daquilo que lhe é oferecido, e que sem perder a posição, se mantém entre entrega e a promessa. longe de ser um réu, prefere não se comprometer como juiz. não é incosequente, mas tampouco é esquizofrênico. somente espera, nada mais.

acontece que nem sempre o mi faz ponte, eou melhor, nem sempre o mi faz sol, ou lá bemol. mas nem só de mi se pode viver, por mais austero que seja o inverno, por mais lustroso que seja o chão.

para mim mas parece um processo que uma conclusão esta estória de beleza vazio e sentido, sabe. você há de me entender se ouvir um pouco de skinny love do bon iver, ou sei lá, procurar aquelas obras do picasso em que ele pintou umas sem vezes as meninas do velazques. o que estou tentando dizer da maneira mais difícil é que: buscar sentido para fazer uma coisa já é deixar de fazer a coisa. que fazer a coisa já é o sentido, e que apreciar uma beleza é já por a coisa para funcionar; você me disse que a beleza é vazia aí onde estás, e eu digo que vaio são nosso olhos para apreciar a beleza. a beleza, (se é bela, e quanto mais bela, mais isso vale) esta feita por si mesma, e em si mesma já se basta. ja cansamos de ouvir falara da objetividade matemática da beleza, M. já cansamos de ouvir falar das curvas femininas que inspiraram niemeyer, já cansamos de ouvir falar do smart design, mas nunca vamos deixar de apreciar a beleza em si. isso porque aquilo que é belo se refaz a todo instante, e o valor desta beleza em cada obra está aí, na sua persistência em resistir ao tempo, e em se refazer a despeito do tempo em todos os lugares ao mesmo tempo - quantas lindas flores nascem neste exato instante?

talvez você estivesse apenas tentando me dizer que a beleza nada vale se estiver no vale da morte. e que flores sem cheiro são nada além de flores sem cheiro. que talvez a beleza da suécia, no caso, nada valesse em um ser humano amortecido, cujo amor não encontra mais saída. que seja. a beleza perde o sentido. mas qual sentido a beleza deveria ter? encontramos isso na vida, esquina a esquina? procuro este sentido na memória, lembrando do meu amor que se foi, procuro sentido no futuro, pensando na beleza que virá, e na que nasce em mim. sentido de beleza não faz sentido se o que queremos, de verdade, é viver. amo a vida, e a vida me ama. me amaria mesmo que eu fosse ingrato, mas veja bem, mi, nem sempre soamos em sol com dó. nem sempre esta tudo perfeito, mas conseguimos, com um pouco de treino ou calmaria, ver beleza até mesmo nas dobras da vida. algumas pessoas fazem disso um caminho perene, como allan poe, como baudelaire, soando portishead como se fosse para sempre. a beleza não é eterna, mas se refaz a todo momento, hã? a beleza é a verdade e a verdade é aquilo todos temos de ter em algum lugar dentro de nós para manter tudo coeso, não é? bem, então a beleza é necessária, está aqui e daqui não sai. bate bate coração.

ps.: se te faço tonta é porque nós dois já estamos dançando.

Wilco – How To Fight Loneliness

madrid

2010-06-28T01:23:00.003+02:00

Midsummer

2010-06-27T02:03:00.017+02:00

Festa na suecia, com suecos falando em sueco...e nao poderia ser mais que uma estrangeira.

The Radio Dept. – What Will Give?

Efemeridades

2010-06-24T16:28:00.007+02:00

Tudo è efemêro.

my neightbors

2010-06-24T13:50:00.002+02:00

The greater part of what my neighbors call good I believe in my soul to be bad,
and if I repent of anything, it is very likely to be my good behavior.
What demon possessed me that I behaved so well.

Henry Thoreau

pontinho.

2010-06-20T19:27:00.000+02:00

A angustia sempre passa.

vultos

2010-03-21T17:52:00.000+01:00

O homem passou por mim duas e vezes e olhou nos meus olhos. A segunda vez, eu desviei, ele que vinha com a sua muleta...deu tres a passos, virou-se e disse: Perdão, só vejo vultos.

Pensei, nao é preciso ser quase cego para ver pessoas como vultos.

La vida es sueño

2010-01-20T18:47:00.002+01:00

¡Ay mísero de mí! ¡Ay infelice!
  Apurar, cielos, pretendo,
ya que me tratáis así,
qué delito cometí
contra vosotros naciendo:
aunque si nací, ya entiendo
qué delito he cometido:
bastante causa ha tenido
vuestra justicia y rigor,
pues el delito mayor
del hombre es haber nacido.
  Sólo quisiera saber
para apurar mis desvelos
(dejando a una parte, cielos,
el delito de nacer),
¿qué más os pude ofender,
para castigarme más?
¿No nacieron los demás?
Pues si los demás nacieron,
¿qué privilegios tuvieron
que yo no gocé jamás?
  Nace el ave, y con sus galas
que le dan belleza suma,
apenas es flor de pluma,
o ramillete con alas,
cuando las etéreas salas
corta con velocidad,
negándose a la piedad
del nido que deja en calma:
¿y teniendo yo más alma,
tengo menos libertad?

  Nace el bruto, y con la piel
que dibujan manchas bellas,
apenas signo es de estrellas
(gracias al docto pincel),
cuando, atrevido y cruel,
la humana necesidad
le enseña a tener crueldad,
monstruo de su laberinto:
¿y yo con mejor instinto
tengo menos libertad?
  Nace el pez, que no respira,
aborto de ovas y lamas,
y apenas bajel de escamas
sobre las ondas se mira,
cuando a todas partes gira
midiendo la inmensidad
de tanta capacidad
como le da el centro frío
¿y yo con más albedrío
tengo menos libertad?
  Nace el arroyo, culebra
que entre flores se desata,
y apenas, sierpe de plata,
entre las flores se quiebra,
cuando músico celebra
de las flores la piedad,
que le da la majestad
del campo abierto a su huida:
¿y teniendo yo más vida
tengo menos libertad?
  En llegando a esta pasión,
un volcán, un Etna hecho,
quisiera arrancar del pecho
pedazos del corazón;
¿qué ley, justicia o razón
negar a los hombres sabe
privilegio tan süave,
excepción tan principal,
que Dios le ha dado a un cristal,
a un pez, a un bruto y a un ave?

[...]


  Es verdad; pues reprimamos
esta fiera condición,
esta furia, esta ambición,
por si alguna vez soñamos:
y sí haremos, pues estamos
en mundo tan singular,
que el vivir sólo es soñar;
y la experiencia me enseña
que el hombre que vive, sueña
lo que es, hasta dispertar.
  Sueña el rey que es rey, y vive
con este engaño mandando,
disponiendo y gobernando;
y este aplauso, que recibe
prestado, en el viento escribe;
y en cenizas le convierte
la muerte (¡desdicha fuerte!):
¿que hay quien intente reinar,
viendo que ha de dispertar
en el sueño de la muerte?
  Sueña el rico en su riqueza
que más cuidados le ofrece;
sueña el pobre que padece
su miseria y su pobreza;
sueña el que a medrar empieza,
sueña el que afana y pretende,
sueña el que agravia y ofende,
y en el mundo, en conclusión,
todos sueñan lo que son,
aunque ninguno lo entiende.
  Yo sueño que estoy aquí
destas prisiones cargado,
y soñé que en otro estado
más lisonjero me vi.
¿Qué es la vida? Un frenesí,
¿Qué es la vida? Una ilusión,
una sombra, una ficción,
y el mayor bien es pequeño:
que toda la vida es sueño,
y los sueños, sueños son.

Calderon de la Barca

Heima is where we lay our head

2010-01-15T02:57:00.001+01:00

Put a dollar into the machine

2009-12-31T01:12:00.008+01:00

The last day of the year is like any other normal day for me. nothing changes except another year starts...but life keeps going on the same direction.

The ending of a cycle is when life is intense, something that makes your life turn, gives a new horizon, different perspectives, new memories to remember and to think about..like that hug in the airport some years a ago. Começo e o fim.

To remember:

M. Ward - Post War

Don't they love you in mysterious ways
You say yeah but this is now and that was then
Put a dollar into the machine and you'll remember when

I know when everything feels wrong
I've got some hard, hard proof in this song
I'll know when everything feels right
Some lucky night
Some lucky night

Say the money just ain't what it used to be
Man how we used to tear apart this town
Put a dollar into the machine and you'll remember how

I know when everything feels wrong
I've got some hard, hard proof in this song
I'll know when everything feels right
Some lucky night
Some lucky night

E pra ser prosaico, ainda faz frio..muito frio. -15

In a sentimental mood

2009-12-17T00:31:00.004+01:00

-6.

cold

Norkolk and Western - Dusk in cold Parlours

At dawn after dusk

What`s your price on poverty?
No, I don't believe in all the signs you tie to faith
Faith is just for those who need it most, and the rest pretend that they`re all blessed

What's your price on brotherhood?
No, I don`t help with all the idle time I waste, cause time is all I have to brace myself for the dwell I pretend to possess

What`s your price on commodities? Yes, I do feel the need for all those tools of sound, cause without song we`ll lose our sight of God, not the God that tells them they're all blessed.

Jealousy, It's true

A battle is the goal, but apathy, it takes you and grinds you into a filtered mind
And idle time, it's true, it grabs you like a stronghold curse, and teases you with a breakthrough, too

And jealousy, it's true, when blue looks different from my brush, but we all use the same brand ink

And holidays aren't enough to clear the space, and space is all that I have to fill my foreign grace

And on my way to work, the bus is filled with vacant stares
The evidence of pain so rare
So everyone is numb, or everyone they hide it all, and I don't want to hear their falls

God Jul...

Or life is not a movie, or maybe

2009-12-15T15:00:00.003+01:00

hoje amanheceu assim, chuva de açucar confeiteiro.

These days

2009-06-25T13:25:00.000+02:00

Nico

I've been out walking
I don't do too much talking
These days, these days.
These days I seem to think a lot
About the things that I forgot to do
And all the times I had the chance to.

I've stopped my rambling,
I don't do too much gambling
These days, these days.
These days I seem to think about
How all the changes came about my ways
And I wonder if I'll see another highway.

I had a lover,
I don't think I'll risk another
These days, these days.
And if I seem to be afraid
To live the life that I have made in song
It's just that I've been losing so long.
La la la la la, la la.

I've stopped my dreaming,
I won't do too much scheming
These days, these days.
These days I sit on corner stones
And count the time in quarter tones to ten.
Please don't confront me with my failures,
I had not forgotten them.

How to Organize a Backpack

2009-06-14T04:34:00.000+02:00

Encontrrei isso no google, e achei interessante.
http://www.ehow.com/how_2082833_organize-backpack.html

Properly organizing your backpack makes your hiking trip much more enjoyable. The general rule of thumb is to pack lighter items at the bottom and heavier items at the top. You may need to adjust the weight distribution once you're on the trail, fine-tuning it for the specific type of terrain you're hiking.

Step 1

Put your sleeping bag at the bottom of the backpack. Some internal-frame backpacks have a separate compartment for sleeping bags. Use this compartment, since it helps keep your sleeping bag safe from compression.
Step 2

Pack clothes first. Clothes are the lightest things you'll carry, so they should be at the bottom of the backpack. To help keep clothes dry and separated, put them inside strong zip lock bags. Raingear and a light jacket should be closer to the top or in exterior pockets for easy access.
Step 3

Organize food and cooking gear on top of the clothes. Store as much as you can inside of the pots and cups to save room. Store the cooking fuel inside a bag in case of leakage, or in a separate pocket.
Step 4

Place tents inside the sleeping bag compartment or outside the backpack. Since most tents are lightweight, they should be near the bottom of the backpack. Keep the tent inside its waterproof bag.
Step 5

Take advantage of outside pockets for organization. Use them to store items you need often, so you can get to them quickly. This includes items such as maps, snack foods, sunscreen and rain gear.

A black eyed dog . Nick Drake

2009-06-11T20:50:00.000+02:00

A black eyed dog he called at my door
The black eyed dog he called for more
A black eyed dog he knew my name
A black eyed dog he knew my name
A black eyed dog
A black eyed dog.

I'm growing old and I wanna go home
I'm growiing old and I don't wanna know
I'm growing old and I wanna go home.

A black eyed dog he called at my door
A black eyed dog he called for more.
...............................................................................

Despues de leer el trecho del libro en que intenta grabar esta cancion, y mal podia tocar y cantar a la vez, me hace pensar...que estaria el pensando, sentiendo, a que punto el dolor mental te lleva, rendicion, dejarte llevar, no querer sufrir.
La gente tiene la mania de ver la tristeza, y el sentirse malo de verdad como punto de debilidad, y no estoy de acuerdo, sera porque todavia no han pasado por malas rachas...pero, bueno, los entiendo, es dificil enfrentarse con algo tan crudo.

Nick Drake leya el libro de Albert Camus, El mito del Sisifo antes de morir.
El libro comienza asi:

"Solo hay un verdadero problema filosófico, el suicidio. Determinar si la vida vale la pena ser vivida equivale a responder a la unica pregunta fundamental de la filosofia".

“Yo decía que el mundo es absurdo y corría demasiado. Todo lo que se puede decir es que este mundo, en sí mismo, no es razonable. Pero lo que resulta absurdo es la confrontación de ese irracional y ese deseo desenfrenado de claridad cuyo llamamiento resuena en lo más profundo del hombre. Une lo uno a lo otro como sólo el odio puede unir a los seres”(Pág. 26) . El sentimiento del absurdo es el que brota de Adán expulsado del paraíso, del orden natural, en sus propias manos frente a un mundo que sigue las leyes que ya no puede imitar, así el hombre en su libertad en el sentido más radical.

...

Me gustaria tenerlo todavia...

Memórias de mis Putas Tristes

2009-05-06T12:57:00.000+02:00

Tiempos olvidados M.M
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
" Gracias a ella me enfrenté por vez primera con mi ser natural mientras transcurrían mis noventa años. Descubrí que mi obsesión de que cada cosa estuviera en su puesto, cada asunto en su tiempo, cada palabra en su estilo, no era el premio merecido de una mente en orden, sino al contrario, todo un sistema de simulación inventado por mí para ocultar el desorden de mi naturaleza. Descubrí que no soy disciplinado por virtud, sino como reacción contra mi negligencia; que parezco generoso por encubrir mi mezquindad, que me paso de prudente por mal pensado, que soy conciliador para no sucumbir a mis cóleras reprimidas, que sólo soy puntual para que no se sepa cuán poco me importa el tiempo ajeno. Descubrí, en fin, que el amor no es un estado del alma sino un signo del zodíaco.

Me volví otro. Traté de releer los clásicos que me orientaron en la adolescencia, y no pude con ellos. Me sumergí en las letras románticas que repudié cuando mi madre quiso imponérmelas con mano dura, y por ellas tomé conciencia de que la fuerza invencible que ha impulsado al mundo no son los amores felices sino los contrariados. Cuando mis gustos en música hicieron crisis me descubrí atrasado y viejo, y abrí mi corazón a las delicias del azar.

Me pregunto cómo pude sucumbir en este vértigo perpetuo que yo mismo provocaba y temía. Flotaba entre nubes erráticas y hablaba conmigo mismo ante el espejo con la vana ilusión de averiguar quién soy. Era tal mi desvarío, que en una manifestación estudiantil con piedras y botellas, tuve que sacar fuerzas de flaqueza para no ponerme al frente con un letrero que consagrara mi verdad: Estoy loco de amor. "

____________________________________________________________________________________
Fragmento de Memorias de mis putas tristes .: Gabriel Garcia Marquez :.

let's dance.

2009-04-29T20:37:00.000+02:00

Let's dance, put on your red shoes and dance the blues
Let's dance, to the song they're playin' on the radio

Let's sway, while colour lights up your face
Let's sway, sway through the crowd to an empty space

If you say run, I'll run with you
If you say hide, we'll hide
Because my love for you
Would break my heart in two
If you should fall
Into my arms
And tremble like a flower

Let's dance, for fear your grace should fall
Let's dance, for fear tonight is all

Let's sway, you could look into my eyes
Let's sway, under the moonlight, this serious moonlight

If you say run, I'll run with you
If you say hide, we'll hide
Because my love for you
Would break my heart in two
If you should fall
Into my arms
And tremble like a flower

Let's dance, put on your red shoes and dance the blues
Let's dance, to the song they're playin' on the radio

Let's sway, you could look into my eyes
Let's sway, under the moonlight, this serious moonlight

Feliz cumpleaños

2009-04-25T20:36:00.000+02:00

Feliz aniversário Mae.
Me perdoa por nao gostar de rosa?