Exactly one year ago (my mother could remember the date) I was rolling down a cliff on my way to non-existence.
Today I want to celebrate life and all the beautiful things this "extra year of existence" brought me. Do you feel la folie?
(couldn't find a video showing Savall playing it)
Monday, April 28, 2008
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
made of feelings
Tonight I'm a feeling machine. It's like a scar all this traveling left me.
I do try to think but feelings get in the way.
Feelings bring questions, and questions bring more feelings.
Tonight, deep inside, and made of feelings, I'm an hurricane.
The travelling took me deep inside and now it's time to cover the wound, made of feelings. And the covering, made of feelings, is more important than the digging.
In the National Galery, London, there's a couch in front of a master piece. I spent half-an-hour seated on that couch and I still wanna go back there. This sunset is made of feelings:
(this is a travel post, I'm in Paris)
I do try to think but feelings get in the way.
Feelings bring questions, and questions bring more feelings.
Tonight, deep inside, and made of feelings, I'm an hurricane.
The travelling took me deep inside and now it's time to cover the wound, made of feelings. And the covering, made of feelings, is more important than the digging.
In the National Galery, London, there's a couch in front of a master piece. I spent half-an-hour seated on that couch and I still wanna go back there. This sunset is made of feelings:
(this is a travel post, I'm in Paris)
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
Silent Poetry
In piolho (louse), a very famous coffee shop in Porto, someone told me about this guy whose favourite hobby was to recite poetry to his friends. And so I tried, with a theatrical attitude, to express myself... (very literal translation)
After a few tries I concluded I was just having a lot of fun and I was spoiling all the poem's poetical content.
A poem is alive when, after reading it, our inner voice stops and the poem lives by itself inside us.
Reciting a poem is like an exhibition. The exhibition that theatre and cinema have to deal with... poetry does not. Poetry is silent.
(many poems by Pessanha survived because the poet himself recited his poems by memory to his friends who later transcribed them)
Que eu, desde a partida, (that I, since the departure,)
Não sei onde vou. (don't know where I go)
Roteiro da vida, (script of life,)
Quem é que o traçou? (who has drawn it?)
A olhar da amurada, (looking from the ship stern)
Que triste que estou! (how sad I feel!)
Miragens do nada, (sights of the nothing)
Dizei-me quem sou... (tell me who am I...)
Clepsidra, Camilo Pessanha
After a few tries I concluded I was just having a lot of fun and I was spoiling all the poem's poetical content.
A poem is alive when, after reading it, our inner voice stops and the poem lives by itself inside us.
Reciting a poem is like an exhibition. The exhibition that theatre and cinema have to deal with... poetry does not. Poetry is silent.
(many poems by Pessanha survived because the poet himself recited his poems by memory to his friends who later transcribed them)
Friday, April 4, 2008
Klaus Nomi
Sometimes, I do feel that I would have a gothic-extra-terrestrial inspired look, if I was to express myself through clothing, (I wish I could sing) just like him:
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