HELLO DARKNESS

HELLO DARKNESS

JUST A LITTLE REMINDER...

JUST A LITTLE REMINDER...

REMARKABLE PEOPLE



FERNANDO PESSOA

(Lisboa, 1888 - 1935, Lisboa)


"Não sou nada.
Nunca serei nada.
Não posso querer ser nada.
À parte isso, tenho em mim todos os sonhos do mundo.


************
"I am nothing.
I will never be anything.
I cannot want to be anything.
Apart from that, I have in me all the dreams in the world."

or...

"I am not nothing.
I will never be nothing.
I cannot want to be nothing.
Apart from that, I have in me all the dreams in the world."


(Álvaro de Campos in "Tabacaria")




LISBOA - Chiado

LISBOA - Chiado
"Fernando Pessoa" by Lagoa Henriques. The place: "Café A Brasileira" (Brazilian Café) - 1905.

PLAYLIST TODAY




MUSIC IS THE PASSION REPORT



♥ ♥ ♥


PLAYING SOFTLY WHILE SOMEONE SANG THE BLUES



Saturday, Jul 22, 2017 - 17:57





SALVADOR SOBRAL - NEM EU [DORIVAL CAYMMI]



YouTube – "Salvador Sobral - Tópico"





ANTONY HEGARTY + LEONARD COHEN - IF IT BE YOUR WILL [COHEN]



YouTube – "Oggmonster"





CHAN MARSHALL (CAT POWER) - I'VE BEEN LOVING YOU TOO LONG [OTIS REDDING]



YouTube – "anaruido"





JANIS JOPLIN - ME & BOBBY MCGEE [CHRIS CHRISTOPHERSON]



YouTube – "ThE DuCk"





JEFF BUCKLEY - LILAC WINE [JAMES SHELTON]



YouTube – " roberta panzeri"





DAVID BOWIE - WILD IS THE WIND [JOHNNY MATHIS]



YouTube – "Peter Music HD"







_____________________


LEANING INTO THE AFTERNOONS by PABLO NERUDA

«Inclinado en las Tardes»



YouTube - "FourSeasons Productions"






CHANGING BATTERIES - OSCAR WINNING ANIMATED SHORT FILM



YouTube - "Bzzz Day"





DIALA BRISLY - A BEAUTIFUL YOUNG LADY

(a huge thanks to my daughter who e-mailed this video to me)



BBC Newsnight

«Syria is devastated by five years of war - and it's taken a huge toll on the country's children. Here's one woman - artist Diala Brisly - who is trying to make life that little bit more bearable for Syria's kids.»

Syria is devastated by five years of war - and it's taken a huge toll on the country's children. Here's one woman -...

Publicado por BBC Newsnight em Domingo, 20 de Março de 2016






A JOURNEY BACK TO ENDEARMENT

A JOURNEY BACK TO ENDEARMENT



FLYING A SECRET



I got here to hide. From equations and patterns. From repetition, after all.
Closed the door and got me a special place where I thought I could
somehow sit close to the stars. But I soon found out that the sky was
still opaque, no matter what the steps. And so I left. Again.

I thought, then, I could build me a different ceiling, a new-coloured scrap
of highness. And then make it work. Where I could dream, more than I sleep.
I have long decided that sleeping is overrated - that I know for sure. So I
take that time instead to travel the night alone and in the meantime I allow
myself to fly, unlike stated before... Yes, I like playing with paradox, to
expose the inside of words and the revelation of writing down the voice of a
silence. My adventurous, ever-walking silence.

So I came back. Here, within this quiet world, I intend to gather all my
things usually kept hidden or inactive. They are here to speak.

And since the future is a stand-by secret, I want to live by a precocious
clock, at every running instant of every entering second.

And I will not slow down until my "future exists now" - kind of reverse
quoting Jacob Bronowski.


Ana Vassalo
in my site "CAFEÍNA"(former "No Flying Allowed")
Nov 11, 2010 - 11:54



THE WALK OF TIME

THE WALK OF TIME

segunda-feira, 3 de dezembro de 2012

sedas no vento



 

quem sabe,
as farpas encostam num lugar de paz
e a doce ternura em retiro
arrisca um passo de luz...
e eu
travestida de risos dança manhã
ouso a paisagem sem queda
esse toque de uma vida
enfim liberta de infernos...
sabes,
há uma saudade de ti
escondida nos poros
guardada em raiz
de mim
de ti quando eras de mim
uma saudade do que floresço
quando me abrigo da nua claridade
e arrasto da memória
todo o amor
que deixei ficar em ti.
o espaço fechado entre nós
dos olhos que se respiram mutuamente
guarda a imagem saudade
de eternidades que se tocam.
a dança das mãos
regaço de cúmplices
tomando a madrugada
que chove do frio a cor
e um frenesim de lua cheia
no céu melhorado da “noite americana”...
a estação deserta num silêncio de geadas
e o comboio que nos dorme os abraços
até à morada final da culpa...
a noite profunda do sono que se despede
e inventa o regresso que se esquecera
num lugar do tempo fechado


quem sabe,
a farpa que me tornaste
se cobre em raiz de seda
por um breve instante de luz...
e agarra a escarpa desse tempo
num quieto toque de fé
por um salto
que se rasga em vento na pele
como sopro de um céu sem rede...

Ana Vassalo
01-Dez-2012 – 21:00

Imagem: Foto "Há palavras que nos beijam", António Simão Meira.

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