yet again

yet again, we're the only ones 
no surprise, this is often how it's done
lately it's about all I can take 

 grizzly bear

elevação.

só se pode responder a um acto de ignorância com um gesto de pura sabedoria e altruismo.

crise? qual crise?eu passei a minha vida toda em crise! não sei o que é viver sem ser em crise! (prémio chapada para os que se queixam o dia todo nas redes sociais, mas que ainda conseguem ter dinheiro ou trabalho para aceder à internet)

domingos ferraz.
reformado
no dia do seu 74º aniversário.
do alto de uma vida inteira de trabalho, e de umas quantas advertências e detenções pela antiga polícia política de defesa do dito estado.

fui ao almoço de aniversário do patriarca.

e vê-lo ali rodeado de amigos, os cabelos brancos, as experiências de vidas inteiras.
cheguei com os bolsos cheios de gargalhadas e recordações para trocar.

a carta da Fiona Apple aos fãs, após cancelar a tourné para ficar em casa com o ser mais importante da sua vida. nós somos isto.

It’s 6pm on Friday, and I’m writing to a few thousand friends I have not met yet. I’m writing to ask them to change our plans and meet a little while later.
Here’s the thing.
I have a dog, Janet, and she’s been ill for about 2 years now, as a tumor has been idling in her chest, growing ever so slowly. She’s almost 14 years old now. I got her when she was 4 months old. I was 21 then — an adult, officially — and she was my kid.
She is a pitbull, and was found in Echo Park, with a rope around her neck, and bites all over her ears and face.
She was the one the dogfighters use to puff up the confidence of the contenders.
She’s almost 14 and I’ve never seen her start a fight, or bite, or even growl, so I can understand why they chose her for that awful role. She’s a pacifist.
Janet has been the most consistent relationship of my adult life, and that is just a fact. We’ve lived in numerous houses, and joined a few makeshift families, but it’s always really been just the two of us.
She slept in bed with me, her head on the pillow, and she accepted my hysterical, tearful face into her chest, with her paws around me, every time I was heartbroken, or spirit-broken, or just lost, and as years went by, she let me take the role of her child, as I fell asleep, with her chin resting above my head.
She was under the piano when I wrote songs, barked any time I tried to record anything, and she was in the studio with me, all the time we recorded the last album.
The last time I came back from tour, she was spry as ever, and she’s used to me being gone for a few weeks, every 6 or 7 years.
She has Addison’s Disease, which makes it more dangerous for her to travel, since she needs regular injections of Cortisol, because she reacts to stress and excitement without the physiological tools which keep most of us from literally panicking to death.
Despite all this, she’s effortlessly joyful & playful, and only stopped acting like a puppy about 3 years ago. She is my best friend, and my mother, and my daughter, my benefactor, and she’s the one who taught me what love is.
I can’t come to South America. Not now. When I got back from the last leg of the US tour, there was a big, big difference.
She doesn’t even want to go for walks anymore.
I know that she’s not sad about aging or dying. Animals have a survival instinct, but a sense of mortality and vanity, they do not. That’s why they are so much more present than people.
But I know she is coming close to the time where she will stop being a dog, and start instead to be part of everything. She’ll be in the wind, and in the soil, and the snow, and in me, wherever I go.
I just can’t leave her now, please understand. If I go away again, I’m afraid she’ll die and I won’t have the honor of singing her to sleep, of escorting her out.
Sometimes it takes me 20 minutes just to decide what socks to wear to bed.
But this decision is instant.
These are the choices we make, which define us. I will not be the woman who puts her career ahead of love & friendship.
I am the woman who stays home, baking Tilapia for my dearest, oldest friend. And helps her be comfortable & comforted & safe & important.
Many of us these days, we dread the death of a loved one. It is the ugly truth of Life that keeps us feeling terrified & alone. I wish we could also appreciate the time that lies right beside the end of time. I know that I will feel the most overwhelming knowledge of her, and of her life and of my love for her, in the last moments.
I need to do my damnedest, to be there for that.
Because it will be the most beautiful, the most intense, the most enriching experience of life I’ve ever known.
When she dies.
So I am staying home, and I am listening to her snore and wheeze, and I am revelling in the swampiest, most awful breath that ever emanated from an angel. And I’m asking for your blessing.
I’ll be seeing you.
Love,
Fiona

Maggie, onde quer que estejas, nós somos isto ♥
porque eu, de ti, ainda não consigo dizer nada. apenas sentir e ficar. 
quieta. imóvel.
à espera que apareças como de costume. como sempre encostada ao meu pescoço.

jardim das amoreiras.

é uma tentação atribuir aos outros o poder de tirarem o melhor ou o pior de nós, como se fossemos um instrumento musical nas mãos de um músico, que tanto pode revelar o talento para extrair a nossa mais harmoniosa melodia, como apenas obter notas desafinadas e ruidosas. 

os outros justificam o facto de sermos simultaneamente um Stradivarius e um violino de plástico. 

foto: o.a.

obrigada. obrigada. obrigada.

Pújá pode ter vários significados. Oferenda, honra ou retribuição de energia ou de força interior, são as formas pelas quais nos referimos ao pújá na estirpe Dakshinacharatantrika-Niríshwarasámkhya Yôga. Mas o termo pode significar também adorar, prestar culto, venerar, honrar, reverenciar.

DeRose - Tratado de Yôga

aos que estiveram.

obrigada.

amor incondicional.

fotos: o.a.

quando não existe mais nada para dizer, porque tudo é demasiado grande para caber em palavras.

maggie.
8/10/2000 - 27/10/2012

redução de ruído.

On Silence [ by Aldous Huxley ]

 

The twentieth century is, among other things, the Age of Noise. Physical noise, mental noise and noise of desire -- we hold history's record for all of them. And no wonder; for all the resources of our almost miraculous technology have been thrown into the current assault against silence. That most popular and influential of all recent inventions, the radio is nothing but a conduit through which pre-fabricated din can flow into our homes. And this din goes far deeper, of course, than the eardrums. It penetrates the mind, filling it with a babel of distractions, blasts of corybantic or sentimental music, continually repeated doses of drama that bring no catharsis, but usually create a craving for daily or even hourly emotional enemas. And where, as in most

countries, the broadcasting stations support themselves by selling time to advertisers, the noise is carried from the ear, through the realms of phantasy, knowledge and feeling to the ego's core of wish and desire. Spoken or printed, broadcast over the ether or on wood-pulp, all advertising copy has but one purpose -- to prevent the will from ever achieving silence. Desirelessness is the condition of deliverance and illumination. The condition of an expanding and technologically progressive system of mass production is universal craving. Advertising is the organized effort to extend and intensify the workings of that force, which (as all the saints and teachers of all the higher religions have always taught) is the principal cause of suffering and wrong-doing and the greatest obstacle between the human soul and its Divine Ground. 

— from Silence, Liberty, and Peace (1946)

eu a ti digo-te três coisas.

tudo o que tu quiseres.

o nosso coração pode ter dono.

12 anos.*

♥♥

quando penso numa fotografia

não entendo o porquê de coisas sempre tão iguais, que copiam tantas coisas que tantos outros já fizeram, que tantos já mastigaram e cuspiram, baralharam e voltaram a dar vezes sem conta.
quando olho para ti e sem edições de imagens, sem cores, sem sombras, sem quilos de distracções e sem poses mais que ensaiadas és tu. sempre tu. sempre sem mais nada.

a fotografia é o momento que já foi. mas que continua aqui. 
é impossível reencená-lo.
és tu.*

carolina. *

Toda a gente é capaz de sentir os sofrimentos de um amigo. 

Ver com agrado os seus êxitos exige uma natureza muito delicada.

 
Oscar Wilde

chegámos.

e desligámos a palavra partir.

fizemos

-4

Come closer to me, come closer. I promise you it will be beautiful.

You keep your promise.

Listen, I do not believe that I alone feel that we are living something new because it is new to me. I do not see in your writing any of the feelings you have shown me or any of the phrases you have used. When I read your writing, I wondered, What episode are we going to repeat?
You carry your vision, and I mine, and they have mingled. If at moments I see the world as you see it, you will sometimes see it as I do.

—	Anais Nin to Henry Miller

feito de ti.

Um coração de rosas como só em certas casas.
Adormece. (...) Adormeceu. Não o acordes.
Entrou pelo quarto, ele dorme, o coração feito de rosas vermelhas artificiais. Pega nele. 
Está na mesinha-de-cabeceira. 
O coração.

- Gonçalo M. Tavares, Água, Cão, Cavalo, Cabeça

pára tudo. o que eu não sabia

é que depois de enfiares isto tudo lá dentro, ainda conseguiste levar a prancha e o pára-vento para casa...
de ladinho e com jeitinho.
ora se isto não é...

<3>

recordações da casa amarela.

Há uma teimosia em entender o amor como coisa absoluta. 
Sendo absoluta, não é possível. Ficamos com a ideia.

- João César Monteiro