2.2.16
"We all have our little solipsistic delusions, ghastly intuitions of utter singularity: that we are the only one in the house who ever fills the ice-cube tray, who unloads the clean dishwasher, who occasionally pees in the shower, whose eyelid twitches on first dates; that only we take casualness terribly seriously; that only we fashion supplication into courtesy; that only we hear the whiny pathos in a dog’s yawn, the timeless sigh in the opening of the hermetically-sealed jar, the splattered laugh in the frying egg, the minor-D lament in the vacuum’s scream; that only we feel the panic at sunset the rookie kindergartner feels at his mother’s retreat. That only we love the only-we. That only we need the only-we. Solipsism binds us together, J.D. knows. That we feel lonely in a crowd; stop not to dwell on what’s brought the crowd into being. That we are, always, faces in a crowd."
13.1.16
30.12.15
5.11.15
8.9.15
"I keep looking for a place to fit
Where I can speak my mind
I've been trying hard to find the people
That I won't leave behind
They say I got brains
But they ain't doing me no good
I wish they could
Each time things start to happen again
I think I got something good goin' for myself
But what goes wrong
Sometimes I feel very sad
(Can't find nothin' I can put my heart and soul into)
I guess I just wasn't made for these times"
Where I can speak my mind
I've been trying hard to find the people
That I won't leave behind
They say I got brains
But they ain't doing me no good
I wish they could
Each time things start to happen again
I think I got something good goin' for myself
But what goes wrong
Sometimes I feel very sad
(Can't find nothin' I can put my heart and soul into)
I guess I just wasn't made for these times"
28.8.15
"The dialectic case of the 'things we do', the 'things we have done' and the 'things we are going to do' has been haunting present and earlier generations. For ages people have been confronted with the soul-searching question how should I interpret the past and how do I move forward. Linguistic sayings, which were inherited from century to century, gave us a good deal of remarkable advice and moral guidance in this field : " Do what is right and let come what come may ", " Do well and fear not ", " Do well and dread no shame "."
"It may be somewhat paradoxical to refer to shame as a 'feeling,' for while shame is initially painful, constant shaming leads to a deadening of feeling. Shame, like cold, is, in essence, the absence of warmth. And when it reaches overwhelming intensity, shame is experienced, like cold, as a feeling of numbness and deadness. [In Dante's Inferno] the lowest circle of hell was a region not of flames, but of ice---absolute coldness."
22.8.15
"Nobody sees anybody truly but all through the flaws of their own egos. That is the way we all see ...each other in life. Vanity, fear, desire, competition-- all such distortions within our own egos-- condition our vision of those in relation to us. Add to those distortions to our own egos the corresponding distortions in the egos of others, and you see how cloudy the glass must become through which we look at each other."
6.7.15
21.6.15
1.6.15
27.5.15
(Do vácuo espesso da ausência)
Seriamos completos, seriamos complementares
Haveria a plenitude, repleta de uma sombra de não-esquecimento
Da incompreensão e falta de comunicação
(quando dois amantes tornam-se mudos)
A irracionalidade alastrou-se e sob sua névoa negra,
a vaidade de ideologias perdurou, deformou-se em abismo
negligenciou afeto, negligenciou abnegação
Revestidos de máscaras e consumados por absurdos
Seremos seres pétreos: secos, indiferentes, estrangeiros condenados a serem nulos
Seriamos completos, seriamos complementares
Haveria a plenitude, repleta de uma sombra de não-esquecimento
Da incompreensão e falta de comunicação
(quando dois amantes tornam-se mudos)
A irracionalidade alastrou-se e sob sua névoa negra,
a vaidade de ideologias perdurou, deformou-se em abismo
negligenciou afeto, negligenciou abnegação
Revestidos de máscaras e consumados por absurdos
Seremos seres pétreos: secos, indiferentes, estrangeiros condenados a serem nulos
“There is a time in life when you expect the world to be always full of new things. And then comes a day when you realise that is not how it will be at all. You see that life will become a thing made of holes. Absences. Losses. Things that were there and are no longer. And you realise, too, that you have to grow around and between the gaps, (...)"
22.5.15
"The feelings that hurt most, the emotions that sting most, are those that are absurd - The longing for impossible things, precisely because they are impossible; nostalgia for what never was; the desire for what could have been; regret over not being someone else; dissatisfaction with the world’s existence. All these half-tones of the soul’s consciousness create in us a painful landscape, an eternal sunset of what we are."
5.5.15
16.4.15
25.1.15
"(...) temos que aceitar que o universo é sem deus, e a vida é sem sentido, muitas vezes uma experiência brutal e terrível, sem esperança, e que as relações amorosas são muito, muito difíceis, e que mesmo assim precisamos encontrar um jeito não só de suportar, mas de levar uma vida decente e moral (...) Se vc admite a terrível verdade sobre a existência humana e escolhe ser um ser humano decente diante dela (...) é que se pode levar o que as pessoas chamam de uma vida cristã - isto é, uma vida moral decente. Você só leva uma vida assim se, para começar, admite o que tem diante de si e joga fora toda a casca de conto de fadas que leva a pessoa a fazer escolhas na vida não por razões morais, mas para marcar pontos no pós-vida".
6.1.15
2.9.14
"I believe this power of seeing the world as fresh and strange lies hidden in every human being. In most of us it is dormant. Yet it is there, even if it is no more than a vague desire, an unsatisfied appetite that cannot discover its own nourishment…. Vicariously, through another person’s eyes, men and women can see the world anew. It is shown to them as something interesting and exciting. There is given to them again a sense of wonder.
This should be the photographer’s aim, for this is the purpose that pictures fulfill in the world as it is to-day. To meet a need that people cannot or will not meet for themselves. We are most of us too busy, too worried, too intent on proving ourselves right, too obsessed with ideas, to stand and stare."
18.8.14
15.8.14
7.8.14
"1. May I be well, happy and peaceful. May no harm come to me. May no difficulties come to me. May no problems come to me. May I always meet with success.
May I also have patience, courage, understanding, and determination to meet and overcome inevitable difficulties, problems, and failures in life.
2. May my parents be well, happy and peaceful. May no harm come to them. May no difficulties come to them. May no problems come to them. May they always meet with success.
May they also have patience, courage, understanding, and determination to meet and overcome inevitable difficulties, problems, and failures in life.
3. May my teachers be well, happy and peaceful. May no harm come to them. May no difficulties come to them. May no problems come to them. May they always meet with success.
4. May my relatives be well, happy and peaceful. May no harm come to them. May no difficulties come to them. May no problems come to them. May they always meet with success.
5. May my friends be well, happy and peaceful. May no harm come to them. May no difficulties come to them. May no problems come to them. May they always meet with success.
6. May all indifferent persons be well, happy and peaceful. May no harm come to them. May no difficulties come to them. May no problems come to them. May they always meet with success.
7. May my enemies be well, happy and peaceful. May no harm come to them. May no difficulties come to them. May no problems come to them. May they always meet with success.
8. May all living beings be well, happy and peaceful. May no harm come to them. May no difficulties come to them. May no problems come to them. May they always meet with success.
31.7.14
"We all are born with a certain package. We are who we are: where we were born, who we were born as, how we were raised. We're kind of stuck inside that person, and the purpose of civilization and growth is to be able to reach out and empathize a little bit with other people. And for me, the movies are like a machine that generates empathy. It lets you understand a little bit more about different hopes, aspirations, dreams and fears. It helps us to identify with the people who are sharing this journey with us."
2.7.14
6.5.14
27.4.14
18.4.14
6.4.14
"Unbroken word sketches
of the subconscious pictures
of sections of the
memory life of an
imbecile genius resting
in the madhouse of his
mind—the word
flow must not be disturbed,
or picture forgotten for
words’ sakes, nor the
pictures stretched beyond
their bookmovie strength
except parenthetically."
of the subconscious pictures
of sections of the
memory life of an
imbecile genius resting
in the madhouse of his
mind—the word
flow must not be disturbed,
or picture forgotten for
words’ sakes, nor the
pictures stretched beyond
their bookmovie strength
except parenthetically."
3.4.14
"We are paper thin. Happen to exist between the percentages temporarily. And this is the best and the worst part, the time factor. And there's nothing you can do about it. You can sit on top of a mountain and meditate for decades and nothing will change. You can change yourself to be acceptable, but maybe this is wrong. perhaps we think too much. Feel more, think less."
25.3.14
2.3.14
"They say that a director always makes the same film. I try to make, as François Truffaut said, the next film in opposition to the one that came before. I'm not sure if I succeed. To put it another way, I agree with the auteur theory, but I don't consider myself an auteur. I'm more of an artisan, a craftsman."
"Like you, I too have struggled, with all my might, not to forget. Like you, I forgot. Like you, I longed for a memory beyond consolation, a memory of shadows and stone. For my part I struggled every day with all my might, against the horror of no longer understanding the reason to remember. Like you, I forgot. Why deny the obvious necessity of remembering?"
20.2.14
12.1.14
9.1.14
1.12.13
"He had an insatiable curiosity and compassion for just regular people, very often working-class people or artists or women. In Faces, there were older women who expressed their desires and frustrations and that was just not seen at the time. It was considered embarrassing for an older woman to have anything to say about anything emotional."
28.11.13
26.11.13
31.10.13
"E assim aqui estou, no meio caminho, tendo passado vinte anos —
Vinte anos muito mal gastos, os anos de l'entre deux guerres —
A tentar aprender a usar as palavras, e cada tentativa
É um inteiro recomeço e um diferente tipo de fracasso
Pois apenas se aprendeu a tirar o melhor das palavras
Para aquilo que já não tem de se dizer, ou para a maneira pela qual
Já não se está na disposição de o dizer. E assim cada investida
É um novo começo, uma incursão no inarticulado
Com equipamento gasto sempre pronto a deteriorar-se
Na desordem geral de sentimentos imprecisos,
De indisciplinados pelotões de emoção. E o que há para conquistar,
Por força e obediência, já antes foi descoberto
Uma vez ou duas, ou várias vezes, por homens que não podemos ter esperança
De emular — mas não se trata de competição —
Trata-se apenas da luta para recuperar o que se perdeu
E achou e perdeu outra e outra vez: e agora, sob condições
Que parecem desfavoráveis. Mas talvez nem ganho nem perda.
Para nós, há apenas a tentativa. O resto não é conosco.
A casa é de onde se começa. À medida que envelhecemos
O mundo fica mais estranho, o padrão mais complicado
De mortos e de vivos. Não o momento intenso
Isolado, sem antes nem depois,
Mas uma vida inteira a arder em cada momento
E não a vida inteira de apenas um homem
Mas de velhas pedras que não podem ser decifradas.
Há um tempo para o anoitecer sob a luz das estrelas,
Um tempo para o anoitecer sob a luz do candeeiro
(A noite com o álbum das fotografias).
O amor é mais aproximadamente ele próprio
Quando o aqui e o agora deixam de importar.
Os homens quando velhos deviam ser exploradores
Aqui ou acolá não importa
Temos de estar quietos e quietos mover-nos
Para uma outra intensidade
Para uma ulterior união, um comungar mais fundo
Através do frio escuro e da desolação vazia,
O grito da onda, o grito do vento, as vastas águas
Da procelária e do golfinho. No meu fim está o meu começo."
Vinte anos muito mal gastos, os anos de l'entre deux guerres —
A tentar aprender a usar as palavras, e cada tentativa
É um inteiro recomeço e um diferente tipo de fracasso
Pois apenas se aprendeu a tirar o melhor das palavras
Para aquilo que já não tem de se dizer, ou para a maneira pela qual
Já não se está na disposição de o dizer. E assim cada investida
É um novo começo, uma incursão no inarticulado
Com equipamento gasto sempre pronto a deteriorar-se
Na desordem geral de sentimentos imprecisos,
De indisciplinados pelotões de emoção. E o que há para conquistar,
Por força e obediência, já antes foi descoberto
Uma vez ou duas, ou várias vezes, por homens que não podemos ter esperança
De emular — mas não se trata de competição —
Trata-se apenas da luta para recuperar o que se perdeu
E achou e perdeu outra e outra vez: e agora, sob condições
Que parecem desfavoráveis. Mas talvez nem ganho nem perda.
Para nós, há apenas a tentativa. O resto não é conosco.
A casa é de onde se começa. À medida que envelhecemos
O mundo fica mais estranho, o padrão mais complicado
De mortos e de vivos. Não o momento intenso
Isolado, sem antes nem depois,
Mas uma vida inteira a arder em cada momento
E não a vida inteira de apenas um homem
Mas de velhas pedras que não podem ser decifradas.
Há um tempo para o anoitecer sob a luz das estrelas,
Um tempo para o anoitecer sob a luz do candeeiro
(A noite com o álbum das fotografias).
O amor é mais aproximadamente ele próprio
Quando o aqui e o agora deixam de importar.
Os homens quando velhos deviam ser exploradores
Aqui ou acolá não importa
Temos de estar quietos e quietos mover-nos
Para uma outra intensidade
Para uma ulterior união, um comungar mais fundo
Através do frio escuro e da desolação vazia,
O grito da onda, o grito do vento, as vastas águas
Da procelária e do golfinho. No meu fim está o meu começo."
28.10.13
4.10.13
1.10.13
20.9.13
13.9.13
4.9.13
"'No fundo, poderíamos ser como na
superfície', pensou Oliveira, 'mas teríamos de viver de outra maneira. E
o que quer dizer viver de outra maneira? Talvez viver absurdamente para
acabar com o absurdo (...) E por isso lhe ocorria agora aquilo que, na verdade, deveria ter
lhe ocorrido logo no início: se alguém não tem domínio sobre si, jamais
poderia ter alcançado a singularidade. E, afinal, quem é que se dominava
de verdade? Quem é que tinha a perfeita consciência de si, da solidão
absoluta que significa nem sequer contar com a própria companhia, que
significa ter de entrar num cinema ou num bordel, ou em casa de amigos
ou numa profissão absorvente ou, ainda, no matrimônio para estar, pelo
menos, só entre os demais? Assim, paradoxalmente, o cúmulo da solidão
conduzia ao cúmulo do gregarismo, à grande solidão das companhias
alheias, ao homem só na sala de espelhos e dos ecos. Todavia, pessoas
como ele e tantas outras, que aceitavam a si mesmas ou que se
rejeitavam, mas conhecendo-se de perto, caíam sempre no pior paradoxo;
estar talvez á beira da singularidade e não poder alcançá-la. A
verdadeira singularidade feita de delicados contatos, de maravilhosos
ajustes com o mundo, não podia ser cumprida por um só lado: a mão
estendida deveria receber outra mão, vinda de fora, vinda do outro"."
28.8.13
13.8.13
27.7.13
19.7.13
14.7.13
30.6.13
22.6.13
31.5.13
"Within our lifetimes, we've marveled as biologists have managed to look
at ever smaller and smaller things. And astronomers have looked further
and further into the dark night sky, back in time and out in space. But
maybe the most mysterious of all is neither the small nor the large:
it's us, up close. Could we even recognize ourselves, and if we did,
would we know ourselves? What would we say to ourselves? What would we
learn from ourselves? What would we really like to see if we could stand
outside ourselves and look at us?"
29.5.13
25.5.13
13.5.13
7.5.13
3.5.13
17.4.13
"Solitary. But not in the sense of being alone. Not solitary in the way
Thoreau was, for example, exiling himself in order to find out where he
was; not solitary in the way Jonah was, praying for deliverance in the
belly of the whale. Solitary in the sense of retreat. In the sense of
not having to see himself, of not having to see himself being seen by
anyone else."
"Every book is an image of solitude. It is a tangible object that one
can pick up, put down, open, and close, and its words represent many
months if not many years, of one man’s solitude, so that with each word
one reads in a book one might say to himself that he is confronting a
particle of that solitude."
16.4.13
"I’ve never seen an exploding helicopter. I’ve never seen anybody go and
blow somebody’s head off. So why should I make films about them? But I
have seen people destroy themselves in
the smallest way. I’ve seen people withdraw. I’ve seen people hide
behind political ideas, behind dope, behind the sexual revolution,
behind fascism, behind hypocrisy, and I’ve myself done all these things.
In our films what we are saying is so gentle. It’s gentleness. We have
problems, terrible problems, but our problems are human problems."
11.4.13
8.4.13
"I
think that what a person normally goes to the cinema for is time: for
time lost or spent or not yet had. He goes there for living experience;
for cinema, like no other art, widens, enhances and concentrates a
person’s experience—and not only enhances it but makes it longer,
significantly longer. That is the power of cinema: ‘stars’, story-lines
and entertainment have nothing to do with it."
4.4.13
29.3.13
"Am I in love? ― yes, since I am waiting. The other one never waits. Sometimes I want to play the part of the one who doesn’t wait; I try to busy myself elsewhere, to arrive late; but I always lose at this game. Whatever I do, I find myself there, with nothing to do, punctual, even ahead of time. The lover’s fatal identity is precisely this: I am the one who waits."
19.3.13
"Impossible, I realize, to enter another’s solitude. If it is true that
we can ever come to know another human being, even to a small degree, it
is only to the extent that he is willing to make himself known. A man
will say: I am cold. Or else he will say nothing, and we will see him
shivering. Either way, we will know that he is cold. But what of the man
who says nothing and does not shiver? Where all is intractable, here
all is hermetic and evasive, one can do no more than observe."
1.2.13
17.1.13
29.12.12
20.11.12
20.10.12
"It is obvious that art cannot teach anyone anything, since in four thousand years humanity has learnt nothing at all. We should long ago have become angels had we been capable of paying attention to the experience of art, and allowing ourselves to be changed in accordance with the ideals it expresses. Art only has the capacity, through shock and catharsis, to make the human soul receptive to good. It’s ridiculous to imagine that people can be taught to be good…Art can only give food – a jolt – the occasion – for psychical experience."
11.10.12
29.9.12
"We know that under the image revealed there is another which is truer to reality and under this image still another and yet again still another under this last one, right down to the true image of that reality, absolute, mysterious, which no one will ever see or perhaps right down to the decomposition of any image, of any reality."
Michelangelo Antonioni
(29/09/1912 – 30/07/2007)
Michelangelo Antonioni
(29/09/1912 – 30/07/2007)
22.9.12
"I don't know, I think I'd like to tell them only this, to know how to find themselves more often alone - to enjoy being alone with themselves more frequently. I think the tragedy of today's youth is that they try to unite on the basis some noisy events, a couple even violent, and this desire to unite in order not not to be alone is an unpleasant condition, from my point of view. I think a person needs to learn from childhood to find himself alone. It means to not be bored when you're by yourself, because a person who finds himself bored when he is alone, it seems to me, is a person in danger."
18.9.12
16.9.12
15.9.12
"I'm convinced we all are voyeurs. It's part of the detective thing. We want to know secrets and we want to know what goes on behind those windows. And not in a way that we would use to hurt anyone. There's an entertainment value to it, but at the same time we want to know: What do humans do? Do they do the same things as I do? It's a gaining of some sort of knowledge, I think."
"(...) I think people are fascinated by that, by being able to see into a world they couldn't visit. That's the fantastic thing about cinema, everybody can be a voyeur. Voyeurism is a bit like watching television - go one step further and you want to start looking in on things that are really happening."
"(...) I think people are fascinated by that, by being able to see into a world they couldn't visit. That's the fantastic thing about cinema, everybody can be a voyeur. Voyeurism is a bit like watching television - go one step further and you want to start looking in on things that are really happening."
7.9.12
"To be silent; to be alone. All the being and doing, expansive, glittering, vocal, evaporated; and one shrunk, with a sense of solemnity, to being oneself, a wedge-shaped core of darkness, something invisible to others. Beneath it all is dark, it is all spreading, it is unfathomably deep; but now and again we rise to the surface and that is what you see us by."
5.9.12
3.9.12
"(...) 'Um quarto está ceifando, e esse sou eu.'
Vem isto tudo, que vai dito como vai sentido, a propósito do grande cansaço, aparentemente sem causa, que desceu hoje súbito sobre mim. Estou não só cansado, mas amargurado, e a amargura é incógnita também. Estou, de angustiado, à beira de lágrimas — não de lágrimas que se choram, mas que se reprimem, lágrimas de uma doença da alma, que não de uma dor sensível.
Tanto tenho vivido sem ter vivido! Tanto tenho pensado sem ter pensado! Pesam sobre mim mundos de violências paradas, de aventuras tidas sem movimento. Estou farto do que nunca tive nem terei, tediento de deuses por existir. Trago comigo as feridas de todas as batalhas que evitei. Meu corpo muscular está moído do esforço que nem pensei em fazer.
Baço, mudo, nulo… O céu ao alto é de um verão morto, imperfeito. Olho-o como se ele ali não estivesse. Durmo o que penso, estou deitado andando, sofro sem sentir. A minha grande nostalgia é de nada, é nada, como o céu alto que não vejo, e que estou fitando impessoalmente."
Assinar:
Postagens (Atom)