31 January 2011
Lessons to be learned ...
"The beginning of love is to let those we love be perfectly themselves, and not to twist them to fit our own image. Otherwise we love only the reflection of ourselves we find in them."
30 January 2011
Counting Crows - Perfect Blue Buildings
“If I had never met you, I wouldn't like you. If I didn't like you, I wouldn't love you. If I didn't love you, I wouldn't miss you ...”
Counting Crows - Perfect Blue Buildings
29 January 2011
Avenida Paulista ... pure nostalgia
Maybe I am ready to go home. Not sure what's causing this nostalgia. I just feel like I could be back there walking on the streets like used to ... always bit scared, but always hoping for a better day.
How many times I walked through Avenida Paulista ... the only place I felt safe ...
How many dreams I had, how many moments, how many people I met! Everything was so new and so promising. I was just another girl ... but I felt so special.
Every time I remember those times I have this thing that squeezes my heart and makes it feel like a physical pain ... I miss something that I left there, but I don't know what it is.
I always say I don't want to go back ... but tonight ... all I wanted to do was to have a drink with my friends, laugh and pretend life is not so complicated.
Pretend everything has a good explanation.
Pretend people are tolerant.
Pretend that true love forgives anything even when everything seems so confusing and nonsense ...
Pretend the world is not so hostile ...
Pretend we don't need ten years of our lives to understand why certain things happened in the past and why they still happen ...
Pretend people can't hurt you and you can't hurt them ... even though pain is sometimes necessary.
Pretend we will always have a happy ending.
... somebody please wake me ... I think I am dreaming ...
Paulista Avenue (Avenida Paulista in Portuguese) is one of the most important avenues in São Paulo, Brazil. The 2.8 kilometre thoroughfare is notable for headquartering a large number of financial and cultural institutions, as well as being home to an extensive shopping area and to Latin America's most comprehensive fine-art museum, MASP. Since the 1960s, the avenue has been identified as one of the main business centers in the city. Being one of the highest points in São Paulo, it is distinctively clustered with radio and TV stations antennae. The road is served by a subway line and many major bus routes. The avenue, which was inaugurated in December 1891, is generally regarded as the most expensive real estate anywhere in Latin America.
Talking to myself - Electribe
27 January 2011
I can't do this ... and I will not ...
“The whole value of solitude depends upon one's self; it may be a sanctuary or a prison, a haven of repose or a place of punishment, a heaven or a hell, as we ourselves make it.”
I never thought I would say that, but miss the time I had no one to talk to, no one that I could care about.
Life was empty, but at the same time nobody could hurt me with their mean comments or actions.
Maybe I am just too old for that, maybe too young to understand how it works. It is time to go away ... time to come back from where I started ... and it starts with my old friend ... the solitude.
I am scared of things, I talk too much, I get offended easily and I don't have the patience I used to have.
I feel like I am 18 years old today but maybe tomorrow I will feel like I am 81.
I complain about my freckles and wrinkles ... and I am always trying to lose 5 kilos.
People's disapproval will always hurt me, and yes, I do care about what people think even when I say I don't ...
I am really sorry, I can't help ... that's who I am ... I can't do this anymore ... and I will not ...
The search for acceptance is over ... I want my lonely world back.
To the people who judge me, where were you when I was hungry and sad thinking I had no future? Where were you when I was scared and had a gun pointed at my head ?
I don't need any of you. I never did.
To the people that passed by and had to go, thanks for the lessons and advices, I know exactly why you were part of my life, I hope you will understand why I was part of yours.
To the very few people that love me just the way I am, thank you, you live inside of my heart, and it does not matter how far we are from each other, I have a smile on my face every time I think of you.
In this world, where we can be anything ... I choose to be myself.
26 January 2011
Another world ...
"If I find in myself desires which nothing in this world can satisfy, the only logical explanation is that I was made for another world."
C.S. Lewis
24 January 2011
23 January 2011
Ponte Milvio - Rome (The bridge of love)
Since its very earliest construction in 206 BC, the Ponte Milvio has been a symbol of military might, dedicated to the triumphant victory of Rome over Carthage the previous year in the Second Punic War, but today, the bridge attracts hundreds of couples, who use a lamppost on the bridge to hang padlocks as a sign of their love. The ritual involves the couple locking the padlock to the lamppost, then throwing the key behind them into the Tiber. The ritual was invented by author Federico Moccia for his popular book and movie "I Want You".
By April of 2007, so many young lovers had imitated the ritual that the lamppost had begun to buckle under the weight of so many padlocks. The loss of the lamppost did not stop young lovers from the rest of Italy coming to the bridge in order to chain their locks and so the Mayor of Rome had to find a solution.
Recently, the Mayor has had all of the original lovelocks have been moved to Rome's City Hall and are on display. Lovers arriving at the bridge can still lock up their love as Rome has installed posts upon the Ponte Milvio where the lamppost once stood.
So romantic !!!!
21 January 2011
Loreena McKennitt - The Old Ways
Loreena McKennitt - The Old Ways
The pounding sea is calling me home, home to you.
On a dark new year's night
on the west coast of Clare
I heard your voice singing.
Your eyes danced the song,
your hands played the tune.
T'was a vision before me.
We left the music behind and the dance carried on
as we stole away to the seashore
and smelt the brine, felt the wind in our hair
and with sadness you paused.
Suddenly, I knew that you'd have to go.
Your world was not mine, your eyes told me so.
Yet it was there I felt the crossroads of time
and I wondered why.
As we cast our gaze on the tumbling sea,
a vision came o'er me,
of thundering hooves and beating wings
in the clouds above.
As you turned to go, I heard you call my name.
You were like a bird in a cage, spreading its
wings to fly.
'The old ways are lost', you sang as you flew
and I wondered why.
The thundering waves are calling me home, home to you.
The pounding sea is calling me home, home to you.
The pounding waves are calling me home, home to you.
The pounding sea is calling me home, home to you.
The pounding waves are calling me home, home to you.
The pounding sea is calling me home, home to you
20 January 2011
Sometimes it is about me ...
“Deep down even the most hardened criminal is starving for the same thing that motivates the innocent baby: love and acceptance.”
18 January 2011
... do you know the difference ?
“God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.”
16 January 2011
There is always life ...
“Don't doubt the fact there's life within you. Yesterday's ending will give you another tomorrow . All that dies, dies for a reason ... to put it's strength into the seasons.”
15 January 2011
... and I believe ...
I believe - Tears for Fears
I believe that when the hurting and the pain has gone
We will be strong, Oh yes we will be strong
And I believe that if I'm crying while I write these words
Is it absurd ? Or am I being real
I believe that if you knew just what these tears were for
They would just pour like every drop of rain
That's why I believe it is too late for anyone to believe
I believe that if you thought for a moment, took your time
You would not resign yourself, resign yourself to your fate
No, no, no, no, no, no ,no.
And I believe that if it's written in the stars, that's fine
I can't deny that I'm a Virgo too
I believe that if your bristling while you hear this song
I could be wrong or have I hit a nerve ?
That's why I believe it is too late for anyone to believe
I believe that maybe somewhere in the darkness
In the nighttime, In the storm
In the casino
Casino spanish eyes
And I believe, no I can't believe that every time you hear a new born scream
You just can't see the shaping of a life
The shaping of a life
It's too late baby, now
It's too late baby
12 January 2011
The thing that is important is the thing that is not seen ...
The Little Prince, chapter 26
Beside the well there was the ruin of an old stone wall. When I came back from my work, the next evening, I saw from some distance away my little prince sitting on top of a wall, with his feet dangling. And I heard him say: "Then you don't remember. This is not the exact spot." Another voice must have answered him, for he replied to it: "Yes, yes! It is the right day, but this is not the place."
I continued my walk toward the wall. At no time did I see or hear anyone. The little prince, however, replied once again: "...Exactly. You will see where my track begins, in the sand. You have nothing to do but wait for me there. I shall be there tonight."
I was only twenty metres from the wall, and I still saw nothing. After a silence the little prince spoke again: "You have good poison? You are sure that it will not make me suffer too long?" I stopped in my tracks, my heart torn asunder; but still I did not understand. "Now go away," said the little prince. "I want to get down from the wall."
I dropped my eyes, then, to the foot of the wall... and I leaped into the air. There before me, facing the little prince, was one of those yellow snakes that take just thirty seconds to bring your life to an end. Even as I was digging into my pocked to get out my revolver I made a running step back. But, at the noise I made, the snake let himself flow easily across the sand like the dying spray of a fountain, and, in no apparent hurry, disappeared, with a light metallic sound, among the stones. I reached the wall just in time to catch my little man in my arms; his face was white as snow.
"What does this mean?" I demanded. "Why are you talking with snakes?"
I had loosened the golden muffler that he always wore. I had moistened his temples, and had given him some water to drink. And now I did not dare ask him any more questions. He looked at me very gravely, and put his arms around my neck. I felt his heart beating like the heart of a dying bird, shot with someone's rifle...
"I am glad that you have found what was the matter with your engine," he said. "Now you can go back home"
"How do you know about that?" I was just coming to tell him that my work had been successful, beyond anything that I had dared to hope.
He made no answer to my question, but he added: "I, too, am going back home today..." Then, sadly, "It is much farther... it is much more difficult..." I realised clearly that something extraordinary was happening. I was holding him close in my arms as if he were a little child; and yet it seemed to me that he was rushing headlong toward an abyss from which I could do nothing to restrain him... His look was very serious, like some one lost far away.
"I have your sheep. And I have the sheep's box. And I have the muzzle..."
And he gave me a sad smile. I waited a long time. I could see that he was reviving little by little.
"Dear little man," I said to him, "you are afraid..." He was afraid, there was no doubt about that. But he laughed lightly.
"I shall be much more afraid this evening..."
Once again I felt myself frozen by the sense of something irreparable. And I knew that I could not bear the thought of never hearing that laughter any more. For me, it was like a spring of fresh water in the desert.
"Little man," I said, "I want to hear you laugh again." But he said to me: "Tonight, it will be a year... my star, then, can be found right above the place where I came to the Earth, a year ago..."
"Little man," I said, "tell me that it is only a bad dream, this affair of the snake, and the meeting-place, and the star..." But he did not answer my plea.
He said to me, instead: "The thing that is important is the thing that is not seen..." "Yes, I know..."
"It is just as it is with the flower. If you love a flower that lives on a star, it is sweet to look at the sky at night. All the stars are a-bloom with flowers..."
"Yes, I know..."
"It is just as it is with the water. Because of the pulley, and the rope, what you gave me to drink was like music. You remember, how good it was."
"Yes, I know..."
"And at night you will look up at the stars. Where I live everything is so small that I cannot show you where my star is to be found. It is better, like that. My star will just be one of the stars, for you. And so you will love to watch all the stars in the heavens... they will all be your friends. And, besides, I am going to make you a present..." He laughed again.
"Ah, little prince, dear little prince! I love to hear that laughter!"
"That is my present. Just that. It will be as it was when we drank the water..."
"What are you trying to say?"
"What are you trying to say?"
"In one of the stars I shall be living. In one of them I shall be laughing. And so it will be as if all the stars were laughing, when you look at the sky at night... you, only you, will have stars that can laugh!"
And he laughed again. "And when your sorrow is comforted (time soothes all sorrows) you will be content that you have known me. You will always be my friend. You will want to laugh with me. And you will sometimes open your window, so, for that pleasure... and your friends will be properly astonished to see you laughing as you look up at the sky! Then you will say to them, 'Yes, the stars always make me laugh!' And they will think you are crazy. It will be a very shabby trick that I shall have played on you..."
And he laughed again. "It will be as if, in place of the stars, I had given you a great number of little bells that knew how to laugh..."
And he laughed again. Then he quickly became serious: "Tonight, you know... do not come," said the little prince.
"I shall not leave you," I said.
"I shall look as if I were suffering. I shall look a little as if I were dying. It is like that. Do not come to see that. It is not worth the trouble..."
"I shall not leave you."
But he was worried. "I tell you, it is also because of the snake. He must not bite you. Snakes, they are malicious creatures. This one might bite you just for fun..."
"I shall not leave you."
But a thought came to reassure him: "It is true that they have no more poison for a second bite."
That night I did not see him set out on his way. He got away from me without making a sound. When I succeeded in catching up with him he was walking along with a quick and resolute step. He said to me merely: "Ah! You are there..." And he took me by the hand. But he was still worrying. "It was wrong of you to come. You will suffer. I shall look as if I were dead; and that will not be true..."
I said nothing.
"You understand... it is too far. I cannot carry this body with me. It is too heavy."
I said nothing.
"But it will be like an old abandoned shell. There is nothing sad about old shells..."
I said nothing. He was a little discouraged. But he made one more effort: "You know, it will be very nice. I, too, shall look at the stars. All the stars will be wells with a rusty pulley. All the stars will pour out fresh water for me to drink..."
I said nothing.
"That will be so amusing! You will have five hundred million little bells, and I shall have five hundred million springs of fresh water..." And he too said nothing more, because he was crying...
"Here it is. Let me go on by myself." And he sat down, because he was afraid. Then he said, again: "You know, my flower... I am responsible for her. And she is so weak! She has four thorns, of no use at all, to protect herself against all the world..."
I too sat down, because I was not able to stand up any longer. "There now, that is all..."
He still hesitated a little; then he got up. He took one step. I could not move. There was nothing but a flash of yellow close to his ankle. He remained motionless for an instant. He did not cry out. He fell as gently as a tree falls. There was not even any sound, because of the sand.
x x x x
10 January 2011
09 January 2011
Sistine Chapel ceiling
The Sistine Chapel ceiling, painted by Michelangelo between 1508 and 1512, at the commission of Pope Julius II, is one of the most renowned artworks of the Renaissance. The ceiling is that of the large Papal Chapel built within the Vatican between 1477 and 1480 by Pope Sixtus IV after whom it is named the Sistine Chapel. The chapel is the location for Papal Conclaves and many important services.
The ceiling's various painted elements form part of a larger scheme of decoration within the Chapel, which includes the large fresco The Last Judgment on the sanctuary wall, also by Michelangelo, wall paintings by a team of the most highly regarded painters of the late 15th century including Botticelli, Ghirlandaio and Perugino, and a set of large tapestries by Raphael, the whole illustrating much of the doctrine of the Catholic Church.
Michelangelo was a sculptor. He referred to himself as such, and vastly preferred working with marble to almost anything else that life offered. Prior to the ceiling frescoes, the only painting he'd done was during his brief stint as a student in Ghirlandaio's workshop.
The ceiling is nearly 68 feet off the ground. To be able to paint the ceiling, Michelangelo needed something to support him for hours on end. An important man in town offered to build a special scaffold that would hang from the ceiling by heavy ropes. Michelangelo didn't like that idea because he didn't want to leave any holes in the ceiling. Instead, the artist built his own scaffold, which was held high in place by brackets that connected to the walls.
Michelangelo had also to overcome mould. It might not sound like much of a drawback, but mould could undo even the most magnificent painting simply by making the plaster wet and crumbly. The artist's most trusted assistant, Jacopo l'Indaco, invented a new method of making plaster that would stay dry. In effect, they outwitted mould.
The painting of the ceiling was not without its more intense obstacles either. For one thing, the pope wasn't all that good about paying. As an artist in that time period, Michelangelo made his money by doing projects, like the Sistine Chapel ceiling. But because the ceiling project took so much of his time, he had very little time to do other artwork. If the pope didn't pay him, he didn't get any money at all.
On November 1, 1512, the ceiling was revealed to the world. Pope Julius II was pleased, and other assembled audience members were thrilled and awed. It was an astounding, intimidating, huge piece of work.
For an year after the ceiling was completed, Michelangelo had to have other people read to him because his vision had deteriorated so much. The experience also nearly permanently altered his eating habits and made him habitually tired.
07 January 2011
Ghost train by Counting Crows
Life is about timing. We can do anything, but we can't do everything ... it is the ability to choose which makes us human. We just need to learn a way to accept that some things are beyond reason.
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