tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6813999927718870312023-11-16T11:47:59.315+00:00in a seashell" for whatever we lose (like a you or a me)
it's always ourselves we find in the sea "nanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14005442701565298259noreply@blogger.comBlogger40125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-681399992771887031.post-53142133193891275022009-02-11T19:49:00.031+00:002012-01-10T04:17:58.177+00:00mis_understandings<div><br /></div><br /><iframe width="420" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/tvhnNhGjPPM" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />i fear him...<br /><br />my heart stops before i give in.<br />my head rules over my every move,<br />my every trace of feeling.<br /><br />but the written words<br /><br />the written words...<br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWjNQV1wYlE1mfZ-IO_VuBY1uGviO164GjzTjqCxoznRlUECmZemr-1qvJ9MtqYb0ZBZMLdprQkIrSiyysi7f_7NQznvkp0SoQkaea-7I506x25RRhy5_vSqtGi0XOctQkHE4tK-MsLkE/s1600-h/piasa-nan-goldin-kate-moss-16-novembre-07-1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 274px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWjNQV1wYlE1mfZ-IO_VuBY1uGviO164GjzTjqCxoznRlUECmZemr-1qvJ9MtqYb0ZBZMLdprQkIrSiyysi7f_7NQznvkp0SoQkaea-7I506x25RRhy5_vSqtGi0XOctQkHE4tK-MsLkE/s400/piasa-nan-goldin-kate-moss-16-novembre-07-1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302009637883379810" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />he walks in holding peace and understanding.<br /><br />he's tall.<br />he's not.<br /><br />he brings me faraway lands and desires,<br />struggles and visions i held secretly within.<br /><br />he's quiet.<br /><br />he says no word,<br />and watches me from afar.<br /><br /><br />it's late.<br />it's late and it might not snow tonight.<br /><br />what must we do with all the clouds left behind?<br />what statues of thought can we build in-between?<br />and then how, how to break them?....<br /><br /><br />my heart stops halfway,<br />turns back.<br />my head leads the way.<br />as if by accident, <br />protecting what is not seen.<br /><br />yet he sees it...<br /><br /><br />he sees me.<br /><br /><br /><br />he watches from afar.nanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14005442701565298259noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-681399992771887031.post-54205376059102540652008-11-15T21:56:00.002+00:002012-01-10T04:19:19.745+00:00in-between silence(s)<div></div><br /><iframe width="420" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/Zmgjwog4dI0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />" is it right, my love, is it right?<br /><br /><br />are you happy inside your eyes?<br />can't you see your lover<br />fall apart in her silk threads?<br /><br />in time the hunter will find<br />the trail of blood<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5O2146f0iZdXfqqdQHzgR7dWosSVDqOeDySy7QPaZU10C36Or6IoNTqw6cQWS7tub-BhaPNo9AXOavKvlkPxtxFr_KJ0By5bPvAudJYXcwHS50WWdTY4BkfVppNKN1xO0Q8lnyVjkg6g/s1600-h/noose.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 302px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5O2146f0iZdXfqqdQHzgR7dWosSVDqOeDySy7QPaZU10C36Or6IoNTqw6cQWS7tub-BhaPNo9AXOavKvlkPxtxFr_KJ0By5bPvAudJYXcwHS50WWdTY4BkfVppNKN1xO0Q8lnyVjkg6g/s400/noose.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268999869162981234" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />i see you alone tonight<br />when will you tear down?<br />love will save you<br /><br />try not to starve yourself of love<br /><br />- feed your hunger<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">is it right, my love, is it right?<br /><br /><br />it's a question with no reply<br />i am sure of longing to be on the open sea<br />to feel the comfort of the mist<br />upon my cheek<br /><br />no, i'm not crying<br /><br /><br /><br />lose me in your memory<br />turn your head<br /><br />let me become a part of it<br /><br />let me become a part of it </span><br /><br /><br />(...) "<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXG3bcelvuVyyrtrrOhdz2f2Gwo1c_FKu03_D5XrVpQ2uO42nmSTalHTV4o9eFPcGd0uTx81WnXa5RS7GVR0KrYTX2J5y_GvCUcbFVS0Sb6_nxzHE4jWBqTWPscZbUnKNqGnYXp8zC4aY/s1600-h/b+and+w.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 302px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXG3bcelvuVyyrtrrOhdz2f2Gwo1c_FKu03_D5XrVpQ2uO42nmSTalHTV4o9eFPcGd0uTx81WnXa5RS7GVR0KrYTX2J5y_GvCUcbFVS0Sb6_nxzHE4jWBqTWPscZbUnKNqGnYXp8zC4aY/s400/b+and+w.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268969105577187362" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />it didn't start that way...<br /><br /><br />it never does.<br /><br /><br /><br />a more tender<br />more thoughtful<br />more heartfelt gesture gets my attention,<br />draws me in,<br />makes me feel special,<br />loved,<br />wanted...<br /><br />and the game begins.<br /><br />suddenly i am touched by rules i was not explained,<br />that i do not understand,<br />yet somehow invade my whole life and its surroundings.<br /><br />and i can no longer smile what i feel,<br />i cannot hug too tight,<br />i cannot look deep into their eyes.<br /><br />the next square to land on is unknown.<br />i place myself on it with all the care and honesty i can,<br />all the fear i hide,<br />all the love i do not know<br />- my hands clenched behind my back..<br /><br />yet i always seem to mislead myself.<br /><br /><br /><br />..<br /><br /><br />i'm in every place<br />all over the place(s)<br />in what i feel.<br /><br />and i don't know<br />i won't find out<br />what flows around.<br /><br />where it starts.<br /><br />where it ends.<br /><br /><br />if.<br /><br />what.<br /><br />when.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />and it will always be<br />a hand held <br />(too far)<br />away.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"><br />(first image: </span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:78%;" >noose</span><span style="font-size:78%;">, by cynthia zordich<br />last image: (c) ana nicolau)</span>nanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14005442701565298259noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-681399992771887031.post-70277894672858852092008-10-21T20:31:00.004+01:002012-01-10T04:26:41.737+00:00"phoenix"<div></div><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb867uAcfhhnBtTaBHThyVaLMlmLVgLg-CKvXSXP7qnFaeRJxgch8rA7F0sP8GarWvIEMFyJNon8J3NOXMtLgCd-Jtif04E_gkLdufeVHqLCwy1H8-D7sff7mPquNV9-iGo9e6iJX443Q/s1600-h/DSC05062.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb867uAcfhhnBtTaBHThyVaLMlmLVgLg-CKvXSXP7qnFaeRJxgch8rA7F0sP8GarWvIEMFyJNon8J3NOXMtLgCd-Jtif04E_gkLdufeVHqLCwy1H8-D7sff7mPquNV9-iGo9e6iJX443Q/s400/DSC05062.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261973818141266322" /></a><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">my body took my soul for a drive.<br /><br /><br />the sun was beginning to set<br />and somewhere across the world someone's wish for a new day,<br />a new chance,<br />a new start,<br />was finally coming true.<br /><br /><br />a flock of birds flew past as i turned down the road that would lead me to my next moment of <span style="font-style:italic;">now</span>.<br /><br /><br />another bird passed by<br />right in front of my eyes,<br />filling me with his own essence<br />and the amazing wonder of all.<br /><br />the unborn poppies <br />smiled <br />as i rolled down the window<br />to let in that field of coloured sea.<br /><br /><br /><br />...<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />my body took my soul for a drive.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />together,<br /><br />they rescued me. <br /><br /><br /></span>nanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14005442701565298259noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-681399992771887031.post-48550340976655233762008-10-04T00:19:00.032+01:002012-01-10T04:27:32.177+00:00refugee<div></div><br /><br /><iframe width="420" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/GEZockGkEyY" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">the world is immense<br /><br />and i have no home.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />suddenly it hits me,<br />the unbearable reality,<br /><br />when all i touch turns to gold<br />and all i love is out of touch<br /><br />and i'm forever lost<br />in this labyrinth i created <br />for my own daring.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />i don't like it<br />this way.<br /><br /><br /><br />i don't like it<br /><br />when i see myself<br /><br />from the distance<br /><br />and it feels<br /><br />dark<br /><br />and haunted.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />..<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />nothing but shadows<br /><br /><br />beyond the deafening silence.</span><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;"><br />nothing <br /><br /><br />but timeless <br /><br /><br />ghosts.</span><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXx1xlHd62YIAmu5yyVEelghELNmFwsx8I0uLWHkOs1-PVA_oApMy9J9uYfmw4tgg24cn-AaNZJa1yl58nQWgpjKfUCCiWssrAdBGAptPKz3ODfbLbJW5UDnNOR3JyAG8c8plPDKbO0sQ/s1600-h/12-Desiree-Dolron-Xteriors-IX.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXx1xlHd62YIAmu5yyVEelghELNmFwsx8I0uLWHkOs1-PVA_oApMy9J9uYfmw4tgg24cn-AaNZJa1yl58nQWgpjKfUCCiWssrAdBGAptPKz3ODfbLbJW5UDnNOR3JyAG8c8plPDKbO0sQ/s400/12-Desiree-Dolron-Xteriors-IX.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253567313433802274" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:78%;" ><br />" every night my dream’s the same.<br />same old city with a different name.<br />men are coming to take me away.<br />i don’t know why but i know i can’t stay.<br /><br />there’s a weight that’s pressing down.<br />late at night you can hear the sound.<br />even the noise you make when you sleep.<br />can’t swim across a river so deep.<br />they know my name 'cause i told it to them,<br />but they don’t know where and they don’t know when <br />it’s coming,<br /><br />when <br />it’s coming.<br /><br /><br />there’s this fear i keep so deep,<br />knew its name since before i could speak:<br />aaaah aaaaaah aaaaah aaaaaah<br />they know my name 'cause i told it to them,<br />but they don’t know where and they don’t know when <br />it’s coming,<br /><br />when <br />when it’s coming<br /><br />keep the car running<br /><br /><br />if some night i don’t come home,<br />please don’t think i’ve left you alone.<br />the same place animals go when they die,<br />you can’t climb across a mountain so high.<br />the same city where i go when i sleep,<br />you can’t swim across a river so deep.<br />they know my name 'cause i told it to them,<br />but they don’t know where<br />and they don’t know when <br />it’s coming,<br /><br />when is it coming?<br /><br /><br />keep the car running<br /><br />keep the car running<br /><br />keep the car running "</span><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;" >(image: desiree dolron, <span style="font-style:italic;">xteriors ix</span>)</span>nanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14005442701565298259noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-681399992771887031.post-26101751968593493972008-09-19T09:12:00.036+01:002012-01-10T04:31:30.319+00:00" pai "<div></div><br /><br /><br /><em>"i miss you</em><br /><br /><em>i guess that i should"</em><br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-size:85%;">(counting crows, <em>raining in baltimore</em>)</span><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />..<br /><br /><br /><br /><em>morning becomes dark and empty as i wake up to the day<br /><br />to find the scratched hands and words<br /><br />that have lost you along the way<br /><br /><br /><br />would you have stayed if i'd dreamt harder?<br /><br />could you have had another try?<br /><br /><br />in dreams reality is kind<br /><br />and pain no more than a sigh<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />..<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><iframe width="420" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/7nELGwMfBt4" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />today only i will be a child,<br /><br />with no possible time lapse<br /><br />no shame or masked fears<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />- i miss you always beyond this silence<br /><br /><br />this trail of memories<br /><br /><br />this blood of tears</em><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh116WVjWYORt6ZMXAzWQ67x5WHGbNk8klELkkANHcMI205Ji-mnsZfM5wmRLSsEEztneN3S48qNDnr-rHi4r_A2zYP5WgltKAK7pGb8DikG2AXZQMA81xMG1sxCQot6s8FuuYRmYz3Ufg/s1600-h/grief_support_img.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247757931849466258" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh116WVjWYORt6ZMXAzWQ67x5WHGbNk8klELkkANHcMI205Ji-mnsZfM5wmRLSsEEztneN3S48qNDnr-rHi4r_A2zYP5WgltKAK7pGb8DikG2AXZQMA81xMG1sxCQot6s8FuuYRmYz3Ufg/s400/grief_support_img.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />...<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" > ("day comes up sicker than a cat</span><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >something's wrong that is that</span><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /><br /></span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >mr. somewhere missing somewhere<br />never did figure just how much</span><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /><br /></span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >a boat from the river takes you out</span><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >'cross the other side of town, to get out, to get out</span><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >you take the tide, any tide, any tide</span><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >like there isn't gonna be any tide</span><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /><br /></span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >mr. somewhere missing somewhere<br />never did figure just how much</span><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >missing somewhere<br />never did figure just how much</span><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /><br /></span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >a world like tomorrow wears things out</span><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >it's hard enough to get what's yours for now</span><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >and the hardest words are spoken softly</span><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >softly look, no hands upon</span><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /><br /></span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >nr. somewhere missing somewhere<br />never did figure just how much</span><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >missing somewhere<br />never did figure just how much</span><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /><br /></span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >now the milkman beats you to the door</span><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >that was once a home, home no more</span><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /><br /></span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >mr. somewhere, missing somewhere<br />couldn't get the calendar to stop</span><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >missing somewhere,<br />never did figure just how much</span><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >missing somewhere,<br />never will admit just how much ")</span><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />..<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">(image by unknown author, sadly.)</span>nanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14005442701565298259noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-681399992771887031.post-64096916730847887142008-09-14T07:28:00.033+01:002008-09-20T22:09:05.496+01:00(in) alice's pain<div><br /></div><br /><object width="300" height="110"><param name="movie" value="http://media.imeem.com/m/ABTw4doDbX/aus=false/"></param><param name="wmode" value="transparent"></param><embed src="http://media.imeem.com/m/ABTw4doDbX/aus=false/" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="300" height="110" wmode="transparent"></embed></object><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />.<br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:95%;" ><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Suicide_watch"><br />suicide watch</a> is an intensive monitoring process used to ensure that an individual does not commit suicide.<br /></span><br />.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />..<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />i was sitting close to her, a seat between us, my hand reaching past it, over her shoulder, cuddling her till where my fingers could reach, wanting almost to go through her skin and reach inside, deep where the voices i could not hear shouted at her, voices no one could imagine, voices that would deafen her speech and mute her hearing; <br />and so the touch, the attempt of the touch, the touch desperate to reach inside, inside until my hands covered the mouth of those unfair and lying voices that pushed that firey-alice into the deepest hole in her, <br />away from everything, <br />from everyone, <br />away from everything that is <br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">life</span> <br />in life.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">" you see.. <br /><br /><br /><br /><br />i wasn't supposed to be alive by friday......"<br /></span><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />she said it in a whisper,<br /><br />knowing what is certain,<br /><br />with no path to return.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />and i had vertigo of her planned death.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIZVvMnuODpia7uhuI8JkeJDx8GJsRCGSkBQvRkZxwkkfhTjjPT0VjD7rk9lkpwwMLJcXXh5jfF0q4eFTRlo6-Crr-VP5DmhjLJ2HWsBWkrBtBQPKorrMllwrup1BOWlRaFGCof7aR8VRk/s1600-h/john+tenniel.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIZVvMnuODpia7uhuI8JkeJDx8GJsRCGSkBQvRkZxwkkfhTjjPT0VjD7rk9lkpwwMLJcXXh5jfF0q4eFTRlo6-Crr-VP5DmhjLJ2HWsBWkrBtBQPKorrMllwrup1BOWlRaFGCof7aR8VRk/s400/john+tenniel.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244864703912485746" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />...<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />she spoke through the crying that torn her breathing apart,<br />as if nothing left inside but the black of all her immense colours, that darkness of sharpened knives and swallowed pills <br />that lingered across years of injustice, hidden love, discouragement.<br /><br /><br />and i thought<br />i thought<br />that it isn't fair.<br /><br /><br />the scales becoming more and more uneven <br />everyday <br />without us knowing, <br />without us knowing the weight of every hour.<br /><br />the weight of not recognizing oneself.<br /><br />of losing<br />everything<br />one is.<br /><br /><br /><br />so tempting, just letting go.....<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />before my eyes she fell, and i knew she fell with her eyes closed, clenched as fists, and thus let herself go, not speaking to anyone, not even looking at us anymore, nothing of her but that little girl's body abandoned by herself and that quiet, chocking, painful cry, <br />that contaminated my blood with sadness and anger.<br /><br /><br />unthinkable not to hold the hands of one who carries in them their own present and raise them until they see, know, feel everything that is, can be, always, everyday, every minute, still, always, <strong>life</strong>.<br /><br /><br />i wanted to shake her and say stop, stop the voices, stop everything that's tormenting you, dive out of yourself if you need to because we'll catch you, <br />we <span style="font-style:italic;">will</span> catch you, <br />just don't go. <br />not like this. <br />not before <em>so much </em>of you.<br /><br /><br />but she was just a little girl, curled up in herself,<br />tiny tiny,<br />tiny with fear and so grown up with pain...<br /><br /><br /><br />scared to break her, almost...<br />as if a bird with broken wings.<br /><br />with nowhere to fly to.<br /><br />but, <br /><span style="font-style:italic;">still</span>,<br />each moment...<br /><br />the healing.<br /><br />every <br />single <br />little <br />moment...<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;"><span style="font-weight:bold;">now</span></span>.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />in the quietness of the night, she slept as one who surrenders to the rest of the arms of a home, a friend, a shelter.<br /><br />in the tender light of day she held my hand and took me through her labyrinth of trees, all tangled in rusty knots of dark memories and flowers left to die by their own negligence,<br />and through the mist of fear i could see she looked this way.<br />at us.<br />inside.<br />from the distance.<br />she looked.<br /><br /><br />and we had to make her see.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />so we told her of the lights that brighten the day,<br />the candles that go out so that it can come,<br />the night that rests, tranquilizes, pacifies...<br /><br /><br />let it come, peaceful.<br /><br />and may the day be gentle on you..<br />everyday.<br /><br />..<br /><br /><br />let it.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />what we think is only that, <br /><br /><br />a thought we allow to be.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />life at its full is a sunset<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />a hand held in the dark<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />the sea.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />..<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:70%;">(image by john tenniel)</span><br /><div></div>nanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14005442701565298259noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-681399992771887031.post-34788943580572668502008-08-15T06:45:00.007+01:002008-10-11T09:02:05.157+01:00(my) country of people and sea<div><br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsW2j_mqMyxZVgTWzoddArwVMkNuo2SIGGEXuCAbFgdZD7azGcpRvX9d8Vj0XYdyREsAaYF-VeBP_c1069RHbxAzDcHhl6yPL5UIRTGHQ42L8_lY-Dn7bVnAta0bHqs792iBbYieIKojLR/s1600-h/auto-retrato+2007.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsW2j_mqMyxZVgTWzoddArwVMkNuo2SIGGEXuCAbFgdZD7azGcpRvX9d8Vj0XYdyREsAaYF-VeBP_c1069RHbxAzDcHhl6yPL5UIRTGHQ42L8_lY-Dn7bVnAta0bHqs792iBbYieIKojLR/s400/auto-retrato+2007.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233432693950802322" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><object width="300" height="110"><param name="movie" value="http://media.imeem.com/m/ZcfPdPbuOa/aus=false/"><param name="wmode" value="transparent"><embed src="http://media.imeem.com/m/ZcfPdPbuOa/aus=false/" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="300" height="110"></embed></object><br /><br /><br /><br />" Everything chains me to the land I gave myself in:<br />the suddenly teenager river,<br />the light tripping on the corners,<br />the sands where I impatiently burnt.<br /><br /><br />Everything chains me with the same sad love<br />that is knowing life doesn't last long,<br />and in it I put hope and the warmth <br />of some fingers with remains of tenderness.<br /><br /><br />They say there are other skies and other moons<br />and other eyes deep with joy,<br />but I belong to these houses, these streets,<br />this love dripping melancholy. "<br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:85%;">(eugénio de andrade, <span style="font-style:italic;">canção breve</span>)</span><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwigQRMIVlB1YqXvI2WoqlVdmcbHbbZgL_m4-9eiQrF0kJ0lyb4KM1Go8SjabQ5-jmtftJri__NmI-Ibgb4WTx4tUJA3pZ3el8a41Bzz9Jt0s20i-JLg4cP8D21BiR9RM8L4hRd4k_EUGi/s1600-h/eduardo+gageiro.htm"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwigQRMIVlB1YqXvI2WoqlVdmcbHbbZgL_m4-9eiQrF0kJ0lyb4KM1Go8SjabQ5-jmtftJri__NmI-Ibgb4WTx4tUJA3pZ3el8a41Bzz9Jt0s20i-JLg4cP8D21BiR9RM8L4hRd4k_EUGi/s400/eduardo+gageiro.htm" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5235627611671543122" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />...<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />i see the way.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />i know it complete, and i know where it leads.<br /><br /><br /><br />to which sea of land and people of my own.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />fear of shame?<br /><br /><br />shame of fear?<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />the same cold shiver going into the sea<br />- my whole life in suspended desire <br />for the awaited time of this dive of me.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />more than queens and princes<br />i bring in my suitcase the fairies that know my wings<br />in certainty, dignity of <span style="font-style:italic;">just</span> being.<br /><br /><br /><br />i am all those i buried,<br />all those that were born inside<br />- tattooed seeds of constant change of tide.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />i hear (myself) in the wind.<br /><br /><br />as if mine the name that someone.<br /><br /><br /><br />as if calling dream to a life <br />that no one else<br /><span style="font-style: italic;">no one else<br /></span>has.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkDSQv7hAMe9Lc77MPqQ5UNDn43m0tHVp-5Ldz94uk7gIBig61ka3O3UWcPd09yPlnmec-s4akxuWiO1GyQEqpSfy4LcDAp_NspmgIBDAzKaOuNL_C8PY1VmdAICQhnWR3a4nLzu6_54HA/s1600-h/dani-blue+-+haleh+bryan.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkDSQv7hAMe9Lc77MPqQ5UNDn43m0tHVp-5Ldz94uk7gIBig61ka3O3UWcPd09yPlnmec-s4akxuWiO1GyQEqpSfy4LcDAp_NspmgIBDAzKaOuNL_C8PY1VmdAICQhnWR3a4nLzu6_54HA/s400/dani-blue+-+haleh+bryan.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5235638276845435714" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />...<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">right now</span></span>,<br /><br />faraway and close,<br /><br />i try humbleness:<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />i live.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:75%">(first picture: ana nicolau, <span style="font-style: italic;">selfportrait2007<br /></span>second picture: eduardo gageiro<br />third picture: haleh bryan, <span style="font-style: italic;">dani-blue</span>)</span><br /><br /><br /><div></div>nanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14005442701565298259noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-681399992771887031.post-79362908533885602812008-08-01T19:48:00.008+01:002008-10-11T09:07:40.121+01:00" through the looking-glass "<div><br /></div><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLLtWHRa7dQVu4Snp77Huc6rGskEX32dsrhcHbrwNW17NwEXV6SRBdmQwqZVQVNbg79FlAxt-sUK4k1TX0rvG85otMNnUFMlCe44j2IBmItZHkJdW0T9y79KXeppdhukNkWZA75yvg6J7f/s1600-h/sue_-blackwell_alice_through-the-looking-glass.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLLtWHRa7dQVu4Snp77Huc6rGskEX32dsrhcHbrwNW17NwEXV6SRBdmQwqZVQVNbg79FlAxt-sUK4k1TX0rvG85otMNnUFMlCe44j2IBmItZHkJdW0T9y79KXeppdhukNkWZA75yvg6J7f/s400/sue_-blackwell_alice_through-the-looking-glass.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229948148604096162" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /></span><span style="font-style:italic;">" i know who i was when i got up this morning, <br />but i think i must have been changed several times since then. "</span><br /><br /><br /><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: right"><span style="font-size:78%;">(lewis carroll, <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">alice's adventures in wonderland</span>)</span><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />...<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/iKptMn1NvQ8&hl=en&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/iKptMn1NvQ8&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;"><br />" The child closes her eyes on the wall<br />She counts the time her friends take<br />To transform<br /><br />She closes her eyes inside the numbers<br />Looks inside and around and finds<br />Herself<br />The child asks whether to meet herself<br /><br />She wants to find her friends, she wants<br />To be answered. She calculates the loud voice<br />The height of the wall, the progression of silence. "</span><br /><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: right"><span style="font-size:78%;">(daniel faria)</span><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />..<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgClYI0qzAIpnR5aBPJVD4OJ9syJGxBT1rHdXH-hKVNkW_P8a_DnnT_K4G2Fui1NjlRqt_uzlIzQxWCN4JJa7Pg0rN0YTrY64OWnXBU1HIhbaDPGV1hn6P_u6FeRLUTHIi2Q_7065M2Xk-w/s1600-h/marulhos.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgClYI0qzAIpnR5aBPJVD4OJ9syJGxBT1rHdXH-hKVNkW_P8a_DnnT_K4G2Fui1NjlRqt_uzlIzQxWCN4JJa7Pg0rN0YTrY64OWnXBU1HIhbaDPGV1hn6P_u6FeRLUTHIi2Q_7065M2Xk-w/s400/marulhos.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229917636432844450" /></a><p align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/profile/16899273978777673379">ruela</a>, <span style="font-style:italic;">"inaseashell"</span></p></span><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">(...)<br /><br /><br /><br />if you knew that love can break your heart<br />when you're down so low you cannot fall<br />would you change?<br /><br />would you change?<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />how bad, how good does it need to get?<br /><br />how many losses? how much regret?<br /><br />what chain reaction would cause an effect?<br /><br />[that] makes you turn around,<br /><br />[that] makes you try to explain,<br /><br />[that] makes you forgive and forget,<br /><br />[that] makes you change?<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjAHRCIxqLHI2L9shb1iNUg7Pg9Kci-XOk_dvE_s3_nQ1wODqxyYj9NHYRXL5SISGdZOj3PpmSVhdrxCrzw9GBpmBxGk6lFY0XxjaR7u_Oo9abSTuxxDh2QmZTG8t6jZ6nqmQ9yYwh5Flb/s1600-h/La+Vase.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjAHRCIxqLHI2L9shb1iNUg7Pg9Kci-XOk_dvE_s3_nQ1wODqxyYj9NHYRXL5SISGdZOj3PpmSVhdrxCrzw9GBpmBxGk6lFY0XxjaR7u_Oo9abSTuxxDh2QmZTG8t6jZ6nqmQ9yYwh5Flb/s400/La+Vase.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229917643740269906" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />makes you change<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdFkofHpkuI-YJQzVNhN1yE5XZ92nl_zmprCqfKVV5UGeN8tHZbrv8yOpj3Y9KgTakxYh0FpyhkhJ6Cl3ez-W9CYebeLvm5PofwggwKTGHOnVKWR4ucyT3iPHdn4r3WTtscf38VEPfcFtc/s1600-h/Don't+let+me+choose.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdFkofHpkuI-YJQzVNhN1yE5XZ92nl_zmprCqfKVV5UGeN8tHZbrv8yOpj3Y9KgTakxYh0FpyhkhJ6Cl3ez-W9CYebeLvm5PofwggwKTGHOnVKWR4ucyT3iPHdn4r3WTtscf38VEPfcFtc/s400/Don't+let+me+choose.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229938044713559042" /></a><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirY6u6QNsnB53jtJVcjX4y8y9KrGOOcBdFRBGNP4cmw40XlpkmK0HY2v1U15JSU7UXBrSdPJB8Zj_HxG4Nx-Y5aQ06XlM0ogLWL-rof-rj-odR5ik2wG0LsnOy3zyk0wRFHiuu_ssI-lbb/s1600-h/thespeak+-+thinking.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirY6u6QNsnB53jtJVcjX4y8y9KrGOOcBdFRBGNP4cmw40XlpkmK0HY2v1U15JSU7UXBrSdPJB8Zj_HxG4Nx-Y5aQ06XlM0ogLWL-rof-rj-odR5ik2wG0LsnOy3zyk0wRFHiuu_ssI-lbb/s400/thespeak+-+thinking.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229943465432072882" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />if you knew that you would be alone,<br />knowing right, being wrong,<br />would you change?<br /><br />would you change?<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUzlJE3V5DAhJT0uFBauiTzVKKuWcDm6YQjMo5BaQxNX49Vfa8qduZFVdtfXGfm_tD5Kn5A-mt6Dwu3J56gj35Ws8Ek5eftzAkUGCwI4w055sFZqIhGUT_fmWWJWmfPOpays9c3peuds-P/s1600-h/Caught+in+a+Net.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUzlJE3V5DAhJT0uFBauiTzVKKuWcDm6YQjMo5BaQxNX49Vfa8qduZFVdtfXGfm_tD5Kn5A-mt6Dwu3J56gj35Ws8Ek5eftzAkUGCwI4w055sFZqIhGUT_fmWWJWmfPOpays9c3peuds-P/s400/Caught+in+a+Net.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229938039540256658" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />if you knew that you would find a truth<br />that brings up pain that can't be soothed,<br />would you change?<br /><br />would you change?<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />how bad, how good does it need to get?<br /><br />how many losses? how much regret?<br /><br />what chain reaction would cause an effect?<br /><br />[that] makes you turn around,<br /><br />[that] makes you try to explain,<br /><br />[that] makes you forgive and forget,<br /><br />[that] makes you change?<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfvBPB2Z13OmI0U0-bEsHDYUemt4hdZ4OIr0AfHCO1Ldx05B20HIaEUQzHJJ5-zkYvxOf1zu-uOWWnCNeVwYAwRnYOCUTvidlDGx8VynJ4KyXMMqMGh7AUjvsqyd2rIcCoNeXXm2pu2c18/s1600-h/Four+corner+room.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfvBPB2Z13OmI0U0-bEsHDYUemt4hdZ4OIr0AfHCO1Ldx05B20HIaEUQzHJJ5-zkYvxOf1zu-uOWWnCNeVwYAwRnYOCUTvidlDGx8VynJ4KyXMMqMGh7AUjvsqyd2rIcCoNeXXm2pu2c18/s400/Four+corner+room.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229938047204780242" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />makes you change<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6ltIHf9HRVx7oKrvXmk78KWkRFLJKJB1fH9WhlB1GnLGou4fkJt4MACfdqkKieBXFzDYumrm9grLbBzZL3AiZDZ0tqju5AAOqx5ywEZ3CNr6fPojed8MDVe23_TO3aoOSJueONo8FR9wx/s1600-h/Land+of+no+words.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6ltIHf9HRVx7oKrvXmk78KWkRFLJKJB1fH9WhlB1GnLGou4fkJt4MACfdqkKieBXFzDYumrm9grLbBzZL3AiZDZ0tqju5AAOqx5ywEZ3CNr6fPojed8MDVe23_TO3aoOSJueONo8FR9wx/s400/Land+of+no+words.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229938048097676834" /></a><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEien_gAwkdkMsoxdFsk-R2MPJDXkiz9PztJrhUvp_8mBQO8L8paL8c0sboxlY0WiRo24dCkD_U0k-HVPjukO6AnIm3yQz8C-Va710NzRImih6CMrrs_dcXfEqpQWNOzdlSFEkQ4Udz8JyVt/s1600-h/change+lachlan+humphreys.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEien_gAwkdkMsoxdFsk-R2MPJDXkiz9PztJrhUvp_8mBQO8L8paL8c0sboxlY0WiRo24dCkD_U0k-HVPjukO6AnIm3yQz8C-Va710NzRImih6CMrrs_dcXfEqpQWNOzdlSFEkQ4Udz8JyVt/s400/change+lachlan+humphreys.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229648920138206866" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />are you so upright you can't be bent<br />if it comes to blows?<br /><br /><br />are you so sure you won't be crawling?<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">if not for the good, why risk falling</span>?<br /><br /><br />why risk falling?<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />if everything you think you know<br />makes your life unbearable,<br />would you change?<br /><br />would you change?<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsuR2YppV9Zn0gtArDYG3MfAqcEnVG4vkD9EVUJ7GcI_UzB6DFnwsYsvCDmXpiLmEiX2R5_maEO4q6Zwgv0rzMs8VbtL8E8tvB50MUkIS8bsFUQQlQdHOAAnMRXRBN8NiKJ6cyPNzdzjtI/s1600-h/Popsicle+toes.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsuR2YppV9Zn0gtArDYG3MfAqcEnVG4vkD9EVUJ7GcI_UzB6DFnwsYsvCDmXpiLmEiX2R5_maEO4q6Zwgv0rzMs8VbtL8E8tvB50MUkIS8bsFUQQlQdHOAAnMRXRBN8NiKJ6cyPNzdzjtI/s400/Popsicle+toes.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229939391489140098" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />if you'd broken every rule and vow,<br />and hard times come to bring you down,<br />would you change?<br /><br />would you change?<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />(...)</span><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwvcFGwjq3Hu6XOQ47jK1JXSfTWbi95RwumKh77rPIdYfUdjc_RlB8xAnXUFJ81gKnkNx26Tm-p74YxA3fzAA4__nLKhYs-pkOitCc_f0lEitWShQNUpKuhQXol3A9otwLdPzmRR9Bp0sv/s1600-h/the+end+is+not+near.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwvcFGwjq3Hu6XOQ47jK1JXSfTWbi95RwumKh77rPIdYfUdjc_RlB8xAnXUFJ81gKnkNx26Tm-p74YxA3fzAA4__nLKhYs-pkOitCc_f0lEitWShQNUpKuhQXol3A9otwLdPzmRR9Bp0sv/s400/the+end+is+not+near.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229944174172200098" /></a><p align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style:italic;"><span style="font-weight:bold;">the end is not near</span></span>, haleh bryan</p></span><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:75%;">(first image: sue blackwell, <span style="font-style:italic;">alice through the looking glass</span><br />fifth image: <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/thespeak/">thespeak</a>, <span style="font-style:italic;">thinking</span><br />ninth image: lachlan humphreys, <span style="font-style:italic;">change</span><br />all other images: haleh bryan<br />song&lyrics: tracy chapman, <span style="font-style:italic;">change</span>)</span>nanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14005442701565298259noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-681399992771887031.post-86318771499009727132008-06-18T22:38:00.009+01:002008-10-27T22:31:26.039+00:00self-reminder (in advance)<div></div><br /><object height="80" width="300"><param name="movie" value="http://media.imeem.com/m/RDv7wtWP5V/aus=false/"><param name="wmode" value="transparent"><embed src="http://media.imeem.com/m/RDv7wtWP5V/aus=false/" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="110" width="300"></embed></object><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOxHJv0WrTiDhIYcSdJbkukLC9JdsgQ4KF9uFplSE18EI4GP7I-U6U62hUj-r_sQ7mqMlwRn4-cKW5NqAKnhXd4qcb6PL4bt7IzKpKMjtGTcOVpLBksV2RoGN05yNLpx6cukbqnbBjU4Rb/s1600-h/michaelvesen-doyoubelieveitinyourhead-119-small.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5213179772918754962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOxHJv0WrTiDhIYcSdJbkukLC9JdsgQ4KF9uFplSE18EI4GP7I-U6U62hUj-r_sQ7mqMlwRn4-cKW5NqAKnhXd4qcb6PL4bt7IzKpKMjtGTcOVpLBksV2RoGN05yNLpx6cukbqnbBjU4Rb/s400/michaelvesen-doyoubelieveitinyourhead-119-small.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">" paston common, 5.maio.08 - "free balance"<br /><br /><br /><br />i brought myself here.<br />it's seven, almost seven years already, of emotions that confuse, comfort, feel safe, confuse, take forward, carry, frighten, feel safe, confuse, feel safe, confuse.<br />that have brought me here, in me. as the will for more.<br /><br /><br />.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />it's stunning, this life i now live.<br />of believing, knowing, all that. that i am happy. i am (already) happy. for so much and more. for all that is in me.<br /><br /><br /><br />(it's beautiful here, this moment in time.<br />as i close my eyes, the birds lull me to the truth in me:<br />i am part of nature.<br />i </span>am <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">the birds.<br />i am the trees.<br />i am the sea.)<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />i live the life that i know.<br />the one i brought myself.<br /><br />i open my eyes, conquer and receive in me<br />all that, through my will, is mine to be. "</span><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWoRe3GAd_BEnUUZsQ33GTjYMRSQgyqbVc_74mqUD15IfSkfp_em2pD2W-8LU_hN7yhe4hUekjbT3rqH9IkxfaA1SgoZxc2voFck_OPUTmsrKhMTUm0Zy_qY9UnAMP55Z0KhBmA8k6J2iO/s1600-h/integration+of+the+soul.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212987094178595762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWoRe3GAd_BEnUUZsQ33GTjYMRSQgyqbVc_74mqUD15IfSkfp_em2pD2W-8LU_hN7yhe4hUekjbT3rqH9IkxfaA1SgoZxc2voFck_OPUTmsrKhMTUm0Zy_qY9UnAMP55Z0KhBmA8k6J2iO/s400/integration+of+the+soul.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />..<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">(first image:<em>do you believe it in your head</em>, by michael vesen<br />second image: <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">integration of the soul</span>.<br />by an unknown artist, sadly...)</span>nanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14005442701565298259noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-681399992771887031.post-24048488030755459622008-05-11T04:45:00.004+01:002008-08-07T20:28:33.771+01:00(in (between) life and dreams)<div> </div><br /><p align="left"><br /><object height="80" width="300"><param name="movie" value="http://media.imeem.com/m/gjSEB4SywO/aus=false/"><param name="wmode" value="transparent"><embed src="http://media.imeem.com/m/gjSEB4SywO/aus=false/" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="300" height="110" wmode="transparent"></embed></object><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">" so runs my dream, but what am i?<br /><br />an infant crying in the night<br /><br />an infant crying for the light<br /><br />and with no language but a cry. "<br /></span><br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-size:78%;">(from the poem "in memoriam a.h.h.", by alfred lord tennyson)</span></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKszdmmrXsyQ4W1quQziAgB5pBfqJNSVWwv9FECRYEIxfS41Bvdp-9enaRIzn2rF6jtJUW3aN2MMZ-sEyBNDPSU5bDCtUHl1Imiq5G7nPqJ47Fg3yiG-Vxk-qAeZJ8h1aYQTWJhoYkFtGI/s1600-h/George+Clausen,+Youth+Mourning.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199833647774809538" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKszdmmrXsyQ4W1quQziAgB5pBfqJNSVWwv9FECRYEIxfS41Bvdp-9enaRIzn2rF6jtJUW3aN2MMZ-sEyBNDPSU5bDCtUHl1Imiq5G7nPqJ47Fg3yiG-Vxk-qAeZJ8h1aYQTWJhoYkFtGI/s400/George+Clausen,+Youth+Mourning.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />...<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />i keep imprisoned<br />chocked with the memories' mourning<br /><br />the franked weight of a sick life<br />- all that unreality<br />of your final moments<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilTvDit6sgJ1DfUZRWD_Y1wyZA_lJZ6-LdUFtbtdXwKRXh5hpMYqA-75dojVlhvOk-pTil7J_Akq4OBVI_KNVH4r_ETV6yxzw2gWZHXxGOrmeok2eaJ4i71Xr0ttX1k3v8dI5rcfByoo3u/s1600-h/death+in+the+sickroom,+klimt.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilTvDit6sgJ1DfUZRWD_Y1wyZA_lJZ6-LdUFtbtdXwKRXh5hpMYqA-75dojVlhvOk-pTil7J_Akq4OBVI_KNVH4r_ETV6yxzw2gWZHXxGOrmeok2eaJ4i71Xr0ttX1k3v8dI5rcfByoo3u/s400/death+in+the+sickroom,+klimt.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199848400987471314" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />...<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />i miss you.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />i am chocked<br /><br />with never more.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">(first image: <em>youth mourning</em>, george clausen<br />second image:<em>death in the the sickroom</em>, edvard munch)</span><br /><br /><div></div>nanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14005442701565298259noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-681399992771887031.post-67715866420366621122008-04-06T20:56:00.003+01:002008-08-07T20:28:48.297+01:00(in) discovery<div></div><br /><object width="300" height="80"><param name="movie" value="http://media.imeem.com/m/Slz3FyYSVe/aus=false/"></param><param name="wmode" value="transparent"></param><embed src="http://media.imeem.com/m/Slz3FyYSVe/aus=false/" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="300" height="110" wmode="transparent"></embed></object><br /><br /><br /><br />" <em>i wonder if i've been changed in the night?<br />let me think. was i the same when i got up this morning?<br />i almost think i can remember feeling a little different.<br />but if i'm not the same, the next question is<br />'who in the world am i?'<br />ah, that's the great puzzle!</em> "<br /><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: right"><span style="font-size:78%;">(lewis carroll, <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">alice's adventures in wonderland</span>)</span><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWZHOiH-k5b6KK1WnDKY64QOIF8rqPfvdhORg-cmRleBs6AwJaqn6rqQApvQ362OyUcaiGH5ybrT2Qk3nUglPoUCJ1gs5YuAY-OKn85s9clS6WGhQzmkPHQeINXmW0vBTv6EQRztEavw9b/s1600-h/day+will+come.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5184757995545699074" style="MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWZHOiH-k5b6KK1WnDKY64QOIF8rqPfvdhORg-cmRleBs6AwJaqn6rqQApvQ362OyUcaiGH5ybrT2Qk3nUglPoUCJ1gs5YuAY-OKn85s9clS6WGhQzmkPHQeINXmW0vBTv6EQRztEavw9b/s400/day+will+come.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />..<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />i slow down the time.<br /><br />my body forces me to look at my soul.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />i look at what i am<br /><br />with open eyes.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />i won't spend<br />lose<br />(any)more<br />time<br />forgetting,<br />when forgetting<br />will bring me nothing.<br /><br /><br />despite the pain of going<br />without leaving a box,<br />some water,<br />a glass globe.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />i smile at life.<br /><br /><br />to all that, in it,<br />is truth<br />and justice.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />i remember what i want.<br /><br />what i love.<br /><br /><br /><br />and i move on.<br /><br /><br /><br />never_the_less.<br /><br /><br />slowly.<br /><br /><br />without running.<br /><br /><br />without running anymore.<br /><br /><br /><br />without running <br />unless i want to feel on my body<br />the wind that brings me life <br />and soul<br />and sea.<br /><br /><br /><br />knowing,<br />alone<br />and deep down,<br />that when i fly<br />there is so much,<br />so much lulling me...<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJi_RDVCAyvrfpzm6PD8eqH30bZRetxf0mDalip4AzCyHw6vKN-cx8pcH2FqQK9PxZE01HtpU5_vjpMfPyDn52lNWws1ZnST3lme3W6nJeMMlwfW0bFGv87JwjtVvqhJmYGbRlUkP8Swxd/s1600-h/Gundega%20Dege.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186034859258028818" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJi_RDVCAyvrfpzm6PD8eqH30bZRetxf0mDalip4AzCyHw6vKN-cx8pcH2FqQK9PxZE01HtpU5_vjpMfPyDn52lNWws1ZnST3lme3W6nJeMMlwfW0bFGv87JwjtVvqhJmYGbRlUkP8Swxd/s400/Gundega%2520Dege.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />...<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"><br /></span><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: right"><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic;font-size:85%;" >" 'everything's got a moral, if only you can find it'.<br />and she squeezed herself up closer to alice's side as she spoke. "</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">(lewis carroll, <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">alice's adventures in wonderland</span>)</span><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">(first image: <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">day will come</span>, by haleh bryan<br />last image by gundega dege)</span>nanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14005442701565298259noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-681399992771887031.post-14725468814847018372008-03-02T11:39:00.004+00:002008-08-07T20:29:04.840+01:00break(ing)<div></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqubggGGWkYpIov1rHX4yZ-xmIN8PKyY-0b21aRYQhmDvZ98M5cglLXetpdwXu95uG5u05FVWABz1z-geK-UXdvJqOS6B06QvJLGelS-ABcpRkyFrVXc9fj0yfKs642xaP0oVYHTVqIsaD/s1600-h/cigharvey05.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqubggGGWkYpIov1rHX4yZ-xmIN8PKyY-0b21aRYQhmDvZ98M5cglLXetpdwXu95uG5u05FVWABz1z-geK-UXdvJqOS6B06QvJLGelS-ABcpRkyFrVXc9fj0yfKs642xaP0oVYHTVqIsaD/s400/cigharvey05.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5172810262431619314" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><object height="80" width="300"><param name="movie" value="http://media.imeem.com/m/UbfXxPfqX9/aus=false/"><param name="wmode" value="transparent"><embed src="http://media.imeem.com/m/UbfXxPfqX9/aus=false/" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="80" width="300"></embed></object><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />i delayed him in our hug, back then.<br /><br />there were numerous days of distance between us, lives we lived apart, all the things we didn't share, the pains, the walls, the joys, the victories, missing what we once were, the pride-sometimes-shame of what we became, what we are in this present of one more day.<br /><br />the one today.<br /><br />where i shape my departure from you.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPf9yaai64xS8b5wc7jBu2uLKA8Z8Ov-bcOyLQMGafiPVA7JlJXXrVIrfiwrfEpnnC37T-8C2WUK4k2qQ5embI_sfgQvKq-daTC9jct1c5U2kCuiW_La_-mvmjItjqsgAvtVdKYhEvVHXA/s1600-h/when+dream+is+gone.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPf9yaai64xS8b5wc7jBu2uLKA8Z8Ov-bcOyLQMGafiPVA7JlJXXrVIrfiwrfEpnnC37T-8C2WUK4k2qQ5embI_sfgQvKq-daTC9jct1c5U2kCuiW_La_-mvmjItjqsgAvtVdKYhEvVHXA/s400/when+dream+is+gone.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5172470186921121858" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">(</span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:78%;" >when dream is gone</span><span style="font-size:78%;">, haleh bryan)</span><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />it ain't no use to sit and wonder why, babe<br /><br />if you don't know by now<br /><br /><br /><br />an' it ain't no use to sit and wonder why, babe<br /><br />it'll never do somehow<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />when your rooster crows at the break of dawn<br /><br />look out your window and i'll be gone<br /><br /><br /><br />you're the reason i'm trav'lin' on<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />...<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />don't think twice, it's all right<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrkiXAz7gYUcGyGIxNFqLXNVDLTIrp7yr5AmYndscC5psPVb0LrbiIYHLBgCXBeNLoUQquQts-83T5f9-LZ1NI0Oi0Etlf3_1PLMKpGwAeAHLOUtLQ9d7S-uT7e4aWlpBzn2mIT0bFEZjp/s1600-h/alicebypodobyckouj8.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrkiXAz7gYUcGyGIxNFqLXNVDLTIrp7yr5AmYndscC5psPVb0LrbiIYHLBgCXBeNLoUQquQts-83T5f9-LZ1NI0Oi0Etlf3_1PLMKpGwAeAHLOUtLQ9d7S-uT7e4aWlpBzn2mIT0bFEZjp/s400/alicebypodobyckouj8.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5172790471222319282" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"><br />it ain't no use in turnin' on your light, babe<br /><br />that light i never knowed<br /><br /><br /><br />an' it ain't no use in turnin' on your light, babe<br /><br />i'm on the dark side of the road<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />i wish there was somethin' you would do or say<br /><br />to try and make me change my mind and stay<br /><br /><br /><br />we never did too much talkin' anyway<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />...<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />so don't think twice, it's all right</span><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAnwrvV5-AhJBF8qcR0uF48sYDWB4oRLdBPKcS4SZ3yiqsGhp4D1D7SndubGerJtq8EHV6XYCMQQ0KvaJPg3vLeOWXI0IlFmiPBYWdCaXINjuZg1HvSCFGjA3wPScERQThRFi3ztAxTqTE/s1600-h/katiachausheva2gu3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAnwrvV5-AhJBF8qcR0uF48sYDWB4oRLdBPKcS4SZ3yiqsGhp4D1D7SndubGerJtq8EHV6XYCMQQ0KvaJPg3vLeOWXI0IlFmiPBYWdCaXINjuZg1HvSCFGjA3wPScERQThRFi3ztAxTqTE/s400/katiachausheva2gu3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5172803622412179666" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></span><span>i pack the life i was here to open it somewhere else, in another space, my own, where i'll live with open doors, letting in the air and the others, the music that reaches the silence within, that makes it sing, gently wakes me up, sets me free, slowly returns me to the feeling inside.</span><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLRMJlPbF7WFQjtxImSyishuwP2vNtB8OhDfiTt2_4G7Oyx1c6Sndi0K62il4xqFd2zvz6atAcn_V-2E0Ujy-gU1nSys-E0-GSglQXhDrGRpSqoB2joH09qT0NjSbA3pnfi4dbsvh0_kgO/s1600-h/on+iceberg.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLRMJlPbF7WFQjtxImSyishuwP2vNtB8OhDfiTt2_4G7Oyx1c6Sndi0K62il4xqFd2zvz6atAcn_V-2E0Ujy-gU1nSys-E0-GSglQXhDrGRpSqoB2joH09qT0NjSbA3pnfi4dbsvh0_kgO/s400/on+iceberg.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5172470178331187234" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />...<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></span><span>on that other part of me, i still hold on to what i don't have or know.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />and i don't <br />ever <br />let you die in my dreams.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />..<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />you only die in this everything<br />this life<br />this being<br />of every instant.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE9soXup84mR7f-3QjTO7Y5zU7n63JOzWXKMrh_boDxIlSoFJlVK-rEdNoRy7c5QD-75hzlltvl-wNrfO2sBk2JAKiiKwViH5peNRqZNwh5dwfpdO3fN0LFvj7tStP5CmJX7P-NRyNHLnn/s1600-h/nc11.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE9soXup84mR7f-3QjTO7Y5zU7n63JOzWXKMrh_boDxIlSoFJlVK-rEdNoRy7c5QD-75hzlltvl-wNrfO2sBk2JAKiiKwViH5peNRqZNwh5dwfpdO3fN0LFvj7tStP5CmJX7P-NRyNHLnn/s400/nc11.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5172761866740127842" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />you die in me<br /><br /><br /><br />only<br /><br /><br /><br />everyday.</span><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWoG19HhrSuAqEuGvEldh5iOV0RAAosT53TvJ8sES7WZqDqwx9vJz4V57wNRDfpme2zqjtKLnBX9BrZZ4LjfBL3XA_JGED-Xm8KeHj6Tt9LaD4ekjnnz1qGlRx3JwxE79z3mjt6aJKhglz/s1600-h/Noronha_da_Costa_50.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWoG19HhrSuAqEuGvEldh5iOV0RAAosT53TvJ8sES7WZqDqwx9vJz4V57wNRDfpme2zqjtKLnBX9BrZZ4LjfBL3XA_JGED-Xm8KeHj6Tt9LaD4ekjnnz1qGlRx3JwxE79z3mjt6aJKhglz/s400/Noronha_da_Costa_50.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5172470191216089170" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />...<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />it ain't no use in callin' out my name, boy<br /><br />like you never done before<br /><br /><br /><br />it ain't no use in callin' out my name, boy<br /><br />i can't hear you any more<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />i'm a-thinkin' and a-wond'rin' walkin' down the road<br /><br />i once loved a man, a child i'm told<br /><br /><br /><br />i gave him my heart but he wanted my soul<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />...<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />don't think twice, it's all right<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjShZKlFx8Vy4cE8NhVsOZ6kYKrgkOe_n-ewjPDR2HwV7XkZYdHy2vd2GytMkY-A9UVG9ZJHj9HDzy9BiGHWaEqqb5KBGLVHUHvk8jMM9enH1NqBzZ8Epj_H0GuQF-LJ_FWOCYDFJDpw1fx/s1600-h/katiachausheva6rm3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjShZKlFx8Vy4cE8NhVsOZ6kYKrgkOe_n-ewjPDR2HwV7XkZYdHy2vd2GytMkY-A9UVG9ZJHj9HDzy9BiGHWaEqqb5KBGLVHUHvk8jMM9enH1NqBzZ8Epj_H0GuQF-LJ_FWOCYDFJDpw1fx/s400/katiachausheva6rm3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5172803618117212354" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"><br />so long, <br /><br /><br />honey babe<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />where i'm bound, i can't tell<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />goodbye's too good a word, babe<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />so i'll just say fare thee well<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />i ain't sayin' you treated me unkind<br /><br />you could have done better but i don't mind<br /><br /><br /><br />you just kinda wasted my precious time<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />...<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />but don't think twice, it's all right<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></span></span></span><span><span><span style="font-size:78%;">(aditional images by cig harvey, katia chausheva and noronha da costa<br />poem: adaptation of </span></span></span><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-size:78%;"> <span style="font-style: italic;">don't think twice, it's all right</span></span></span></span><span><span><span style="font-size:78%;">, by bob dylan)</span></span></span>nanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14005442701565298259noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-681399992771887031.post-6827812980634704682008-02-22T17:19:00.005+00:002008-08-07T21:51:21.736+01:00they talk of cuba...<div></div><br />and i think of reynaldo*:<br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">"why is it that we, the great majority of the people, and even the intellectuals, did not realize that this was the beginning of a new dictatorship, even bloodier that the previous one? perhaps we did realize it, but the enthusiasm of knowing that now one was part of a revolution, that a dictatorship has been overthrown and the time had come for vengeance, outweighed the injustices and the crimes that were being committed. <br />not only were injustices being inflicted; the executions were being conducted in the name of justice and freedom, and above all, in the name of the people.."</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">(*<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Reinaldo_Arenas">reynaldo arenas</a>, </span><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic;font-size:78%;" >before night falls</span><span style="font-size:78%;">)</span><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNlD4RdqVd_qajiuDXaPF2Bc5TaNLeiWvgmWq7xp0B39X6UGVLcu02v2zWioniT-qFOCmmTVaVesGMQ_C9DROCZ1nFME20WGpTpgXbyFgnjaDW4QNFjoEB2YI1li8oN0qucU16wrvleEC0/s1600-h/TheScream.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169729441453202418" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNlD4RdqVd_qajiuDXaPF2Bc5TaNLeiWvgmWq7xp0B39X6UGVLcu02v2zWioniT-qFOCmmTVaVesGMQ_C9DROCZ1nFME20WGpTpgXbyFgnjaDW4QNFjoEB2YI1li8oN0qucU16wrvleEC0/s400/TheScream.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"><br /><br /><br /><br />(</span><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic;font-size:78%;" >the scream, </span><span style="font-size:78%;">edvard munch)</span><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />.....<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:180%;"><i style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">you cannot shake hands<br />with a clenched fist.</i><br /></span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">(indira gandhi)<br /></span><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><object width="300" height="80"><param name="movie" value="http://media.imeem.com/m/mIgmK7UlyV/aus=false/"></param><param name="wmode" value="transparent"></param><embed src="http://media.imeem.com/m/mIgmK7UlyV/aus=false/" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="300" height="80" wmode="transparent"></embed></object>nanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14005442701565298259noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-681399992771887031.post-63764332908399258412008-02-18T20:18:00.007+00:002008-02-26T14:08:41.200+00:00touched.<br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >adj.</span><span style="font-size:85%;"><br />emotionally affected; moved.</span><br />.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><object height="80" width="300"><param name="movie" value="http://media.imeem.com/m/SfVq1X0RKi/aus=false/"><param name="wmode" value="transparent"><embed src="http://media.imeem.com/m/SfVq1X0RKi/aus=false/" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="80" width="300"></embed></object><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">"what sort of diary should i like mine to be?...<br />something loose knit and yet not slovenly, so elastic that it will embrace any thing, solemn, slight or beautiful that comes into my mind. <br />i should like it to resemble some deep old desk, or capacious hold-all, in which one flings a mass of odds and ends without looking them through. <br />i should like to come back, after a year or two, and find that the collection had sorted itself and refined itself and coalessed - as such deposits so misteriously do - into a mould, transparent enough to reflect the light of our life."</span> <br /><div style="text-align: right;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-size:85%;">(virginia woolf, </span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >a writer's diary</span><span style="font-size:85%;">)</span><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT4v2enVHO3t73abqLZiZVuJlsIvYG35yusTa0i1Ebhh6dmBV3Z0zWQt58NA6t0Vkl2VX-1Wx7Z8GrkEii7tYtjkdt3pO0YD0XfbiivJFd7qbtm7BItaxEVs181rtseP91vx_UcpM7rlhF/s1600-h/DSC03687.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT4v2enVHO3t73abqLZiZVuJlsIvYG35yusTa0i1Ebhh6dmBV3Z0zWQt58NA6t0Vkl2VX-1Wx7Z8GrkEii7tYtjkdt3pO0YD0XfbiivJFd7qbtm7BItaxEVs181rtseP91vx_UcpM7rlhF/s400/DSC03687.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5167933118626290610" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />...<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">"this diary is my kief, hashish and opium pipe.<br />this is my drug and my vice."</span><br /><div style="text-align: right;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-size:85%;">(anaïs nin)</span><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://marulhos.blogspot.com/2007/11/aniversrio-longe.html"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA7yNSQxvhyphenhyphen08ovR14uwZOL2OWx6FcLtVyq10ESYiDyA_pme9jW2tdJI0Ne6YCAhjI31UDRdwCAKY5EcP3AmRMwiViY12-2c1-pQLObrVD4GljxfBgOxZbEgENud-o1B4dxQ7PFFf4bxHg/s400/DSC03321.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5168418853657664450" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />...<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />thank you to those who<br />generously<br />share it with me.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />for the kindness,<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />the presence,<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />the giving.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic-KqzQ2DVDsXfUNKZWoH22n12AwkiLcUg_car5bi0khYfOnVStUfRUHLVc6fOgfvXjmK8jKRvJgqR_0AIRQkOAcZf8ltpL28Ga-aKTs0K-t4rrJqtf1-0Lo749I2IH_Kzh0xT6XWRJSjL/s1600-h/sky+%26+water.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic-KqzQ2DVDsXfUNKZWoH22n12AwkiLcUg_car5bi0khYfOnVStUfRUHLVc6fOgfvXjmK8jKRvJgqR_0AIRQkOAcZf8ltpL28Ga-aKTs0K-t4rrJqtf1-0Lo749I2IH_Kzh0xT6XWRJSjL/s400/sky+%26+water.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5167735550130674578" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">(</span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:78%;" >sky and water</span><span style="font-size:78%;">, m. c. escher)</span><br /><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />...<br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><div></div>nanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14005442701565298259noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-681399992771887031.post-42819877230271582292008-02-15T16:33:00.010+00:002008-08-07T22:05:06.644+01:00"afin de ne pas vous blesser"<div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><object height="80" width="300"><param name="movie" value="http://media.imeem.com/m/SLVu14etzr/aus=false/"><param name="wmode" value="transparent"><embed src="http://media.imeem.com/m/SLVu14etzr/aus=false/" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="80" width="300"></embed></object><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmnd6AHvTmzVC-IvNHPbvClYpprc8ysprv4vOR83lXaPrqGmi_QiU9gFqlHJxRECHimw2ezRxvDqK8LK_hLuWA_Xm_Ix7IfNiqAW1RVZdJii7QWWltnqZ9vamcn8jpRuVYpz6ila-Mr0ks/s1600-h/portrait-bits.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmnd6AHvTmzVC-IvNHPbvClYpprc8ysprv4vOR83lXaPrqGmi_QiU9gFqlHJxRECHimw2ezRxvDqK8LK_hLuWA_Xm_Ix7IfNiqAW1RVZdJii7QWWltnqZ9vamcn8jpRuVYpz6ila-Mr0ks/s400/portrait-bits.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5166748025480174290" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" >it's like falling knowing there's nothing below...</span><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /><br /><br /><br /></span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" >i look down (again) and see the crude darkness of the certainty of nothing at all,<br />a dazzled rock that now fears the sea...</span><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /><br /><br /><br /></span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" ><br />yet nevertheless:<br /><br /><br />hand in hand, i go.<br /><br /><br /><br />i fall as if flying, deepened with balance and happiness, as my body stops being my own or ours: we leave that weight behind and love as if resting from life, sometimes from ourselves,<br />we tattoo our hands with sand in nights full of moon and giving<br />- the blood pulsing,<br />the water being born.</span><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /><br /><br /></span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" >we love with the fury of fear,<br />the unfair certainty of love,<br />so much less than life...</span><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /><br /></span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" ><br />and we love in flight.</span><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /><br /></span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" >we love in vain.</span><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /><br /></span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" ><br />for no safe refuge for this flight.<br /><br />and all is dreams, after all.</span><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><em>open wings,</em></span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" ><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" >body,<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />fall(ing). </span><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" >without knowing.</span><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" >feeling<br />the acute<br />silence<br />of falling<br />alone.</span><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnbQ60Lj9kUzRFPqWLjeEz9LycQh8y1TZ7-2xURuAZKzQhGznpFk9j3AMeUoxjSTNC2qqNe5vp-q5fRTOuBnRLC_Kn_xlwesdqLYrlVGMZkOrk_lGQ8aD5nDJHHdjb-P-ptbUYSwrt4Tcu/s1600-h/silence.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5166573873146256066" style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnbQ60Lj9kUzRFPqWLjeEz9LycQh8y1TZ7-2xURuAZKzQhGznpFk9j3AMeUoxjSTNC2qqNe5vp-q5fRTOuBnRLC_Kn_xlwesdqLYrlVGMZkOrk_lGQ8aD5nDJHHdjb-P-ptbUYSwrt4Tcu/s400/silence.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">(<span style="font-style: italic;">silence</span>, bogdan zwir)</span><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" >- my castrated wing...</span><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /><br /><br /></span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" >when did you choose, in land,</span><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" >to be water, flipper and sea?</span><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /><br /></span><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2eXK17RVLNtj2ECppCadGkt2lubR7Dy9QZ9mzQSDqW3M7BoDD8VaLR2xouuqStwNlA7dYXN3hpn9WDtKYOLqlLAMhpLZTryoq7LbdYkrzLeUQkLMgc5ez8x1r5kxnbCcPz6PJVQxOVP3T/s1600-h/reunited+with+her+thoughts.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2eXK17RVLNtj2ECppCadGkt2lubR7Dy9QZ9mzQSDqW3M7BoDD8VaLR2xouuqStwNlA7dYXN3hpn9WDtKYOLqlLAMhpLZTryoq7LbdYkrzLeUQkLMgc5ez8x1r5kxnbCcPz6PJVQxOVP3T/s400/reunited+with+her+thoughts.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5166925167111330546" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">(<span style="font-style: italic;">reunited with her thoughts</span>, haleh bryan)</span><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />...<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">(imagem primeira, </span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:78%;" >portrait</span><span style="font-size:78%;">, de haleh bryan)<span style="font-size:78%;"></span></span>nanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14005442701565298259noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-681399992771887031.post-13644041214907922712008-02-12T04:45:00.001+00:002008-02-13T17:10:52.802+00:00missing<div> </div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7qZ2klQAxLvu_KMnyetik-5B3KqpLfNdtbkI-uNhPlzLTtgONC7X8q89zI7BrWkTTYTEMYXJF-XQzZO05oV0v_bxJbT6hMbLqf_RfaB_OPUStuJh47ZBCqCIj0Tb3Y4r8FCeOOYPpKPc4/s1600-h/DSC02186.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7qZ2klQAxLvu_KMnyetik-5B3KqpLfNdtbkI-uNhPlzLTtgONC7X8q89zI7BrWkTTYTEMYXJF-XQzZO05oV0v_bxJbT6hMbLqf_RfaB_OPUStuJh47ZBCqCIj0Tb3Y4r8FCeOOYPpKPc4/s400/DSC02186.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5155394547849630242" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />...<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">there are days when i could <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />simply<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />cry for you.</span><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div>nanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14005442701565298259noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-681399992771887031.post-4779445301886024302007-11-30T14:18:00.001+00:002008-02-15T16:51:44.085+00:00in darkened silence<object width="300" height="80"><param name="movie" value="http://media.imeem.com/m/KSPMDAPkvQ/aus=false/"></param><param name="wmode" value="transparent"></param><embed src="http://media.imeem.com/m/KSPMDAPkvQ/aus=false/" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="300" height="80" wmode="transparent"></embed></object><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />..<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">*</span>" <span style="font-style: italic;">- is he dead, mama?<br /><br /> <br /><br /><br /><br /> <br />- i think so,<br />sweetheart...<br /><br /> <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> <br />- can we wish<br />for him to come back?<br /><br /> <br /><br /><br /><br /> <br />- yeah.<br /><br /> <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> <br />...<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />- i wish.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> <br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZGkaUdwGFGqiNanr8XGgldgOULTqQmbYs5tQgAAeo1-LqD3c3SJjnaadBgr9oJPrqQSZIZtcUfIQKFKwMqsvYsW7aZ0BVf_w7F_aOHXo92Ei7jffSExvwRk88t3QC_MAx-52kXgu0ue1d/s1600-r/24.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixhhXtOPVyCYqIM4bOhTi5gmHRb7IuBuLRACMHEQjClh2o9fr2godTPWYpWrPGnXULzfO9t3A8Qx2CgmoawBCkskI2kJcyDUR3AAxfvoyUB9A6n0ueEIcz8_q8M65np88pStYLmywUfSnV/s400/24.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5138675016757557890" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />...<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />- i wish, too.</span> " <span style="font-size:78%;">*</span><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />...<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">(*from the film </span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:78%;" >e.t., the extraterrestrial</span><span style="font-size:78%;">)<br />(picture from <span style="font-style:italic;">light of life</span>, by de es)</span>nanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14005442701565298259noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-681399992771887031.post-8062379544681130352007-11-28T22:08:00.001+00:002008-08-07T22:16:26.826+01:00(en)chanted transparency<div></div><br /><object height="80" width="300"><param name="movie" value="http://media.imeem.com/m/6aqSFR0YVm/aus=false/"><param name="wmode" value="transparent"><embed src="http://media.imeem.com/m/6aqSFR0YVm/aus=false/" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="80" width="300"></embed></object><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />i opened his drawn window:<br /><br /><br />in each curtain a seashell<br /><br />in each image<br />my worded life<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />i looked out,<br /><br /><br />saw him seeing me within<br /><br /><br />and thought<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">how can one who does not know me by heart<br /><br />know the colours it is made of?</span><br /><br /><br /><br />..<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF_HTWLT7RXdkW5qdKKTrap8rB3gb7X4OoqIRCE0LQrfT79eF7sgW1Wxv798cbG3rx46dRT-zHlBEnhm1b6NycQrmnJBSPjsnxPRXfYb9KqgRTHcjPJgfIogCe6TCx4b1zuJ0-wvRs5uEb/s1600-h/marulhos.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF_HTWLT7RXdkW5qdKKTrap8rB3gb7X4OoqIRCE0LQrfT79eF7sgW1Wxv798cbG3rx46dRT-zHlBEnhm1b6NycQrmnJBSPjsnxPRXfYb9KqgRTHcjPJgfIogCe6TCx4b1zuJ0-wvRs5uEb/s400/marulhos.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5138017629063232098" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><br />(<a href="http://www.blogger.com/profile/16899273978777673379">ruela</a>, </span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >in a seashell</span><span style="font-size:85%;">)</span><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />....<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"><br /><br />(because i don't know,<br />i really don't know<br />the words to.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />....<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">thank you</span>.)</span>nanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14005442701565298259noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-681399992771887031.post-16157514041785091032007-11-22T00:20:00.002+00:002008-08-07T22:26:11.017+01:00constant loop<div></div><br /><object width="300" height="110"><param name="movie" value="http://media.imeem.com/m/UM_W-mEwva/aus=false/"></param><param name="wmode" value="transparent"></param><embed src="http://media.imeem.com/m/UM_W-mEwva/aus=false/" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="300" height="110" wmode="transparent"></embed></object><br /><br />i warm up beyond the past<br />that cuts<br />still<br />blind in itself<br /><br /><br />i release me from myself<br />my own ghosts<br />in still life<br /><br /><br /><br />even if i hurt<br />scratch<br />burn<br />mislead<br />myself<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />..<br /><br /><br />i try<br />to get up<br />from myself<br /><br /><br /><br />and i do<br />i feel<br />i sing<br />mine<br />again<br /><a href="http://profile.imeem.com/iccwJnD/music/I-xefzvE/the_killers_sweet_talk/">their</a> words<br /><br />..<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0HCssP4onyGngMtlsodMxi_IE83sTrDsugm1w-ijHxrcbtRH7WjY4cC47YQfBjtJFvwRqOnriwuKS0C2PeVR1PBEOxu4fS9cFU8wcXhwhs4q8yzRIVcp39Wxpp0YZ4FCqecO5nGYvZ0xg/s1600-h/4487237-lg.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5134947672339397010" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0HCssP4onyGngMtlsodMxi_IE83sTrDsugm1w-ijHxrcbtRH7WjY4cC47YQfBjtJFvwRqOnriwuKS0C2PeVR1PBEOxu4fS9cFU8wcXhwhs4q8yzRIVcp39Wxpp0YZ4FCqecO5nGYvZ0xg/s400/4487237-lg.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"><br />" lift me up on my honour<br />take me over this spell<br />get this weight off my shoulders<br />- i’ve carried it well<br /><br />loose these shackles of pressure<br />shake me out of these chains<br />lead me not to temptation<br /><br /><br /><br />hold my hand harder<br />ease my mind<br />roll down the smoke screen<br />and open the sky<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />* <span style="font-size:130%;">let me fly</span> *<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />- man, i need a release from<br />this troublesome mind<br />fix my feet when they’re stumbling<br />and where you know it hurts sometimes<br />you know it’s gonna bleed sometimes<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2WavMmjf2TMdRrp-_DExpb8twKPB7_eL8zwLVARLYAqLRT_exmoHledYNNEhPal1jVKdy-UR12JxYkeHWNJqi8wwEgk0mpSHNt49WsP0sZrgVqMRycYInVLMYLbA-Zv2nFblnLaqoTS1o/s1600-h/4054041-lg.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5135061669361367474" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2WavMmjf2TMdRrp-_DExpb8twKPB7_eL8zwLVARLYAqLRT_exmoHledYNNEhPal1jVKdy-UR12JxYkeHWNJqi8wwEgk0mpSHNt49WsP0sZrgVqMRycYInVLMYLbA-Zv2nFblnLaqoTS1o/s400/4054041-lg.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></span><span style="font-size:78%;"></p></span><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><span style="font-size:78%;"><br /></span><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><span style="font-size:78%;">(haleh bryan, <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">can't wait forever</span>)</span><br /></div></div><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />dig me out from this thorn tree<br />help me bury my shame<br />keep my eyes from the fire<br />they can’t handle the flame<br /><br />grace cut out from my brothers<br />when most of them fell<br />i carried it well<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />* <span style="font-size:130%;">let me fly</span> *<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />man, i need a release from<br />this troublesome mind<br />fix my feet when they’re stumbling<br />i guess you know it hurts sometimes<br />you know it’s gonna bleed sometimes<br /><br />now hold on<br />- i’m not looking for sweet talk<br />i’m looking for time<br />time for tower and sleep walk<br />brother, cause it hurts sometimes<br />you know it’s gonna bleed sometimes<br />hold on<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><embed src="http://widget-16.slide.com/widgets/slideticker.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" quality="high" scale="noscale" salign="l" wmode="transparent" flashvars="cy=un&il=1&channel=1224979098646328854&site=widget-16.slide.com" style="width:426px;height:320px" name="flashticker" align="middle"></embed><div style="width:426px;text-align:left;"><a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=un&ad=0&id=1224979098646328854&map=1" target="_blank"><img src="http://widget-16.slide.com/p1/1224979098646328854/un_t016_v000_a000_f00/images/xslide1.gif" border="0" ismap="ismap" /></a> <a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=un&ad=0&id=1224979098646328854&map=2" target="_blank"><img src="http://widget-16.slide.com/p2/1224979098646328854/un_t016_v000_a000_f00/images/xslide2.gif" border="0" ismap="ismap" /></a></div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />you know its gonna hurt sometimes...<br /><br />when you call me...<br /><br />hold on...<br /><br />hold on...<br /><br />hold on...<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />i’m gonna climb that symphony home <br />and make it mine<br /><br />let his resonance light my way<br /><br />see, all these pessimistic sufferers <br />tend to drag me down<br /><br />so i could use it to shelter what good i’ve found "</span><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />....<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiTir8503RfRQ_d3RT3q8157HjjCYmnz88w6Nf_KSDO2Z1Pt9T2QuEL89v22N5ozfl2E4N838kmy8s9gZ0rtlVmFHsHWguyJclFU_9bvB3H9cK2YyhHOj7U8iJCVPO1_73J_quKw1rYahM/s1600-h/towards+the+light.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5134947680929331618" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiTir8503RfRQ_d3RT3q8157HjjCYmnz88w6Nf_KSDO2Z1Pt9T2QuEL89v22N5ozfl2E4N838kmy8s9gZ0rtlVmFHsHWguyJclFU_9bvB3H9cK2YyhHOj7U8iJCVPO1_73J_quKw1rYahM/s400/towards+the+light.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">(haley bryan, <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">towards the light</span>)</span><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />..<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">(first picture: haleh bryan.<br />pictures on slideshow: auguria, bjorn tagemose, cole rise, f.n.terryan, floriana barbu, yatsutani taizo, banksy, zack garner, lovisa ringborg and michael vesen)</span>nanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14005442701565298259noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-681399992771887031.post-78212070174742399282007-11-15T20:28:00.001+00:002008-10-27T22:18:15.690+00:00waking morning<embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://stat.radioblogclub.com/radio.blog/skins/mini/player.swf" allowscriptaccess="always" bgcolor="#ECECEC" id="radioblog_player_-1" flashvars="id=-1&filepath=http://www.radioblogclub.com/listen?u=.8yck5WdvN3Ln9GbC5ybpRWYS9icm5SZlJnZuk3chRnbhZ2czVGbk5WZ/Bjork%2520-%2520All%2520Is%2520Full%2520of%2520Love.rbs&colors=body:#ECECEC;border:#BBBBBB;button:#999999;player_text:#999999;playlist_text:#999999;" height="23" width="180"></embed><br /><div> </div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBSZFDKYWJF8qEebkTMT5Jpbmf6EfOuT_-pC7szrZyba9AZ7YS7mIAM0X1VynewBG54pgkbgdYKCfxrA2UjHnmn3hB1dwiBk4DVCRPPKtpQpXucyJqZGmjRsmyxZehJ6iNRtCHXvqN97v6/s1600-h/4487404-md.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBSZFDKYWJF8qEebkTMT5Jpbmf6EfOuT_-pC7szrZyba9AZ7YS7mIAM0X1VynewBG54pgkbgdYKCfxrA2UjHnmn3hB1dwiBk4DVCRPPKtpQpXucyJqZGmjRsmyxZehJ6iNRtCHXvqN97v6/s400/4487404-md.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5133173799306541186" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">(<span style="font-style: italic;">while you were gone</span>, by haleh bryan</span>)<span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />he laid his body with mine.<br /><br />with the calm of those who don't possess,<br />we swallowed the night and the world<br />and in the morning woke up the touch of what is unknown.<br /><br /><br />he looked close,<br />saw me in there<br />and gave me the eyes of a smile.<br /><br />he uncovered me inside<br />discovered me alive<br />and<br />with nothing else<br />for me only<br />adventured in the solitude of the non-peace<br />- that where i was kept <br />still<br />by the selfish ghost<br />of a false,<br />abandoned,<br />imprisoned<br />love.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />that i know<br /><br />now<br /><br />no longer.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />...<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />my body<br />returned to my arms<br />today.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-WCq2AvYUmd-i7QVpnCyMNUY10FIwFrtIsqVc2QBSQdGJKKpznYbwjQTc9u_gcczogzsW2pNEALrOPm0MevgGK6LWAJHCiaUEZFiXw_v0nzR17Zw8_-QtFF1r-9kRpetgPRKE7LsQrva3/s1600-h/5293694-md.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-WCq2AvYUmd-i7QVpnCyMNUY10FIwFrtIsqVc2QBSQdGJKKpznYbwjQTc9u_gcczogzsW2pNEALrOPm0MevgGK6LWAJHCiaUEZFiXw_v0nzR17Zw8_-QtFF1r-9kRpetgPRKE7LsQrva3/s400/5293694-md.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5133176225963063442" border="0" /></a><br /></span><span style="font-size:78%;">(</span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:78%;" ><span style="font-style: italic;">between us</span>,</span><span style="font-size:78%;"> by haleh bryan)</span><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></span>...<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">( " you'll be given love<br />you'll be taken care of<br />you'll be given love<br />you have to trust it<br /><br />maybe not from the sources<br />you have poured yours<br />maybe not from the directions<br />you are staring at<br /><br />trust your head around<br />it's all around you<br />all is full of love<br />all around you<br /><br />all is full of love<br />you just aint receiving<br />all is full of love<br />your phone is off the hook<br />all is full of love<br />your doors are all shut<br />all is full of love<br /><br />all is full of love<br />all is full of love<br />all is full of love<br />all is full of love<br />all is full of love " )</span>nanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14005442701565298259noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-681399992771887031.post-45415970994210151292007-11-12T04:45:00.000+00:002007-11-12T11:21:02.737+00:00quiet silence<span style="font-size:+0;"></span><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><em>" i miss my father.<br /><br /><br /></em><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><p><em></em></p><p><em>..</p><p><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />i miss everything. "</em> <span style="font-size:78%;">*<br /></span><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNRoKKERSiHPO32M0jmQXESQaaJ3ATunVqVRnOPPDc8MdJtYJyeuC-We444EoJh-OFY7uDh9kDchhK_m8n2kKHNaGNNUhCPoQbGI4UfEaa0v8NS8LJwBK7Pa7Boen_GZvNquxNrGS4tknO/s1600-h/bz.bmp"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131846872925375202" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNRoKKERSiHPO32M0jmQXESQaaJ3ATunVqVRnOPPDc8MdJtYJyeuC-We444EoJh-OFY7uDh9kDchhK_m8n2kKHNaGNNUhCPoQbGI4UfEaa0v8NS8LJwBK7Pa7Boen_GZvNquxNrGS4tknO/s400/bz.bmp" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />..<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">* from the film <em><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0140888/">central do brasil</a href></em>, by walter salles<br />(image by bogdan zwir)<br /></p></span>nanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14005442701565298259noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-681399992771887031.post-49093616989150711112007-11-08T09:10:00.000+00:002007-11-09T15:03:55.145+00:00birthday, faraway<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfbK0N9RyUfC00LKScktFjRj6Zy8qeyOdFRkxKO_hfHV2iHyGTbMTisu2RCxukHwZc-BP4J6uxjNTBCHu5NpDOEvhlWAewizXz1lO49wT_lykdx5SoE-TQ4l3HHGOKDWgc_BIkps0DlM3Y/s1600-h/puberty.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfbK0N9RyUfC00LKScktFjRj6Zy8qeyOdFRkxKO_hfHV2iHyGTbMTisu2RCxukHwZc-BP4J6uxjNTBCHu5NpDOEvhlWAewizXz1lO49wT_lykdx5SoE-TQ4l3HHGOKDWgc_BIkps0DlM3Y/s400/puberty.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130489023309712050" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">(edvard munch,</span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:78%;" > puberty</span><span style="font-size:78%;">)</span><br /><br /><br /><br /><object height="80" width="300"><param name="movie" value="http://media.imeem.com/m/smyzCF0K0N/aus=false/"><param name="wmode" value="transparent"><embed src="http://media.imeem.com/m/smyzCF0K0N/aus=false/" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="80" width="300"></embed></object><br /><br />" <span style="font-style: italic;">...and that's the day i knew there was this entire life behind things, and...<br />this incredibly benevolent force, that wanted me to know there was no reason to be afraid, ever.<br />(...)<br />i need to remember...<br />sometimes there's so much beauty in the world i feel like i can't take it,<br />like my heart's going to cave in.</span> "<br /><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">(from the film </span><span style="font-size:78%;"></span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:78%;" >american beauty</span><span style="font-size:78%;">)</span><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />..<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">i write in this faraway place as if i'm writing at home.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">everything is peace, strength and life</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">in this moment of time.</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">instant.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">new touches that take me to what i am,</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">that kiss my ear in a whisper,</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">that wake me up with assurance and a smile.</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">i keep everything to remember it,<br />later on,</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">this still time<br /></span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">suspended<br /></span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">in amazement</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">and wonder</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"><br />of being humble</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"><br />like life.</span><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr1huX0qPJZHuXddK04Zx4BgwuLVszHwRU-NzDQWAA56GWiRlLA-E9Pf25tuXRxozCr4Ax2yzNDtZvJNrx9NzuXOWALDYn4X39uDrcolWjxp7Av2lEqT9Ggoe4MsC1N0OU5aNtCA7QdAHM/s1600-h/butterfly.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr1huX0qPJZHuXddK04Zx4BgwuLVszHwRU-NzDQWAA56GWiRlLA-E9Pf25tuXRxozCr4Ax2yzNDtZvJNrx9NzuXOWALDYn4X39uDrcolWjxp7Av2lEqT9Ggoe4MsC1N0OU5aNtCA7QdAHM/s400/butterfly.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130480819922176642" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">(bogdan zwir, </span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:78%;" >butterfly</span><span style="font-size:78%;">)</span><br /><br /><br /><br />...<br /><br /><br />on the absence of the touch<br />the sea<br />the others<br />i (re)write myself.<br />i remember all that i am<br />feel<br />live.<br /><br /><br />even if faraway.<br />even if here.<br />even if in the painful distance<br />of some<br />any<br />non-hug.<br /><br /><br />..<br /><br /><br />i know i live<br /><br />alive.<br /><br /><br /><br />and that is everything.<br /><br /><br />with each step<br />each gesture<br />each touch of sleeping wonder<br />may i be<br />feel<br />exist<br />in the sea-felt peace<br />of being true in life.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzVHLILlICyWdRilipyplnC4P1KezSYnHJeN-WYx_Z73BQLMFAWEOMuvcU27Wb-oaGTcoetdqCbAcmSLeDoCMawlJvJh4q7ppAmLNEm5X76j6q52fqfIIu3rwxGiJVKSwF-0NsiqTYfeg3/s1600-h/Picture+248.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzVHLILlICyWdRilipyplnC4P1KezSYnHJeN-WYx_Z73BQLMFAWEOMuvcU27Wb-oaGTcoetdqCbAcmSLeDoCMawlJvJh4q7ppAmLNEm5X76j6q52fqfIIu3rwxGiJVKSwF-0NsiqTYfeg3/s400/Picture+248.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130492553772829394" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">(ana nicolau)</span>nanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14005442701565298259noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-681399992771887031.post-66733523637481154052007-10-30T07:10:00.000+00:002007-11-04T11:35:14.414+00:00life expectancy<embed id="radioblog_player_-1" src="http://stat.radioblogclub.com/radio.blog/skins/mini/player.swf" width="180" height="23" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" bgcolor="#ECECEC" flashvars="id=-1&filepath=http://www.radioblogclub.com/listen?u=..wLzRmb192cv8WakFmcvcmcv5SY0NXa2JXZ0xWYukGaz9Wbph2cv1mL3d3d/Hans%2520Zimmer%2520%2526%2520Lisa%2520Gerrard%2520-%2520Now%2520we%2520are%2520free.rbs&colors=body:#ECECEC;border:#BBBBBB;button:#999999;player_text:#999999;playlist_text:#999999;"></embed><br /><br /> <br /><br /> <br /><br /><br /><p><br /><br />night falls.<br /><br /> <br /><br /> <br /><br /> <br /><br /> <br /><br /> <br /><br />....<br /><br /> <br /><br /> <br /><br /> <br /><br /> <br /><br /> <br /><br /><br />it's early<br /><br />and night falls.<br /><br /> <br /><br /> <br /><br /> <br /><br /><br />....<br /><br /> <br /><br /> <br /><br /> <br /><br /> <br /><br /> <br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL3pM5hoCkjcAjXl0js1EyHheM1zLsxm_zia2kF_LMIJKIpa_UPzJIduebpqMLzCRq86ERDrv-D2NwS5vYpbZyTV_y9UyOcDIRzcjSd9xoaNsnmYawGCw97qVySPpuvqU6HfBnUqROtPZQ/s1600-h/anna+postcards+2.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126518308917694386" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL3pM5hoCkjcAjXl0js1EyHheM1zLsxm_zia2kF_LMIJKIpa_UPzJIduebpqMLzCRq86ERDrv-D2NwS5vYpbZyTV_y9UyOcDIRzcjSd9xoaNsnmYawGCw97qVySPpuvqU6HfBnUqROtPZQ/s400/anna+postcards+2.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /> <br /><br /> <br /><br /> <br /><br /> <br /><br /> <br /><br /> <br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">(brian wiles, </span><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic;font-size:78%;" >dawn</span><span style="font-size:78%;">)</span><br /><br /> <br /><br /> <br /><br /> <br /><br /> <br /><br />there are voices calling me, speaking beyond my own language...<br /><br /> <br /><br />they come from everywhere<br />and are like lives that bring me life,<br />that remind me the sweetness of our brief humanity,<br />that make me believe it's always possible to be better...<br /><br /> <br /><br /><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">(thus we smile with everything<br />in front of a rained rainbow that takes over the grey town,<br />a full moon that breathes a whole field of dreamt leaves, fallen in colour,<br />a sun that naked and red dives into water and salt of sea...<br /><br />thus we do.<br />as one who looks life in the eye and sees beyond it.<br /><br />..<br /><br />beyond all.)</span><br /><br /> <br /><br />to accept those who hurt,<br />to accept the absence,<br />to accept choices and choose<br /><em>choose</em><br />to smile above it all.<br /><br />..<br /><br />above all<br />smile.<br /><br /> <br /><br />to be true in the eyes of the one who looks, let them in, even if just a little,<br />let him in, sit near, as if.<br />to be taken by the words that touch,<br />that take the thoughts without one thinking,<br />that make the unknown distance fly in intimacy.<br />to hesitate, still, in sharing one's truth,<br />in truth,<br />sharing before the peace, inside,<br />for so non-peaceful <br />this serenity,<br />incomplete,<br />still...<br />but to let,<br />to let the eyes.<br />drink from the words, taste their touch,<br />in secret.<br />to let them comfort<br />and be able to be<br />the life<br />that is built.<br /> <br /><br />to wake up each day and smile,<br />smile alone,<br />smile with,<br />in joy of life.<br /><br />for life.<br /><br />in life.<br /><br /> <br /><br /> <br /><br />and thus<br /><em>be</em><br />each second.<br /><br /> <br /><br /> <br /><br /> <br /><br /> <br /><br /> <br /><br /> <br /><br /> <br /><br />...</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p><br /><br /> <br /><br /> <br /><br /> <br /><br /> <br /><br /> <br /><br />this,<br />in this black and white of colour,<br />i see,<br />i try to,<br />when i look ahead.<br /><br />with me,<br />in me,<br />as i cross the present.<br /><br />with all that is (not) left behind.<br /><br />..<br /><br /><br />it's still felt.<br /><br /> <br /><br /> <br /><br /> <br /><br /> <br /><br /><br />...<br /><br /> <br /><br /> <br /><br />thus me,<br />in the world,<br />in the salt of missing so much,<br />the salt of life and truth.<br /><br /><br />thus me,<br />in me,<br />in a stubborn rebirth<br />- as one who redoes and remembers<br />every night<br />the coming morning.<br /><br /> <br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdV4sz5aQtuZ1SbulsFZgdcfI02FITexQU0f9-FcHVOfjcZqyLgK3bGOtJbQ6RVkBeBHftxDSdsDvoHJQVQXwFifnDZ3Ixz5MwQJk451jIlSe_h0W_gtlUGDskTy0vUAHDsI5dhWzpeKwe/s1600-h/ZwirBogdan.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126889595955531730" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdV4sz5aQtuZ1SbulsFZgdcfI02FITexQU0f9-FcHVOfjcZqyLgK3bGOtJbQ6RVkBeBHftxDSdsDvoHJQVQXwFifnDZ3Ixz5MwQJk451jIlSe_h0W_gtlUGDskTy0vUAHDsI5dhWzpeKwe/s400/ZwirBogdan.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /> <br /><br /> <br /><br /> <br /><br /> <br /><br /> <br /><br /> <br /><br /> <br /><br /> <br /><br /> <br /><br /> <br /><br /> <br /><br /> <br /><br /> <br /><br /> <br /><br /> <br /><br /> <br /><br /> <br /><br /> <br /><br /> <br /><br /> <br /><br /> <br /><br /> <br /><br /> <br /><br /> <br /><br /> <br /><br /> <br /><br /> <br /><br /> <br /><br /> <br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">(image by bogdan zwir)</span><br /><br /> <br /><br /> <br /><br /> <br /><br /> <br /><br /> <br /><br /> <br /><br /> <br /><br /> <br /><br /> <br /><br /> <br /><br /> <br /><br /> <br /><br /> <br /><br /> <br /><br /><em>" the most pure and strong desires of the heart<br />will always be fulfilled. "</em><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">(mohandas k. ghandi, <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">in</span><br />"an autobiography - the story of my experiments with truth")</span> </p>nanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14005442701565298259noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-681399992771887031.post-19461007871240226492007-10-12T04:45:00.000+01:002007-11-09T14:59:44.865+00:00lullaby with(out) my fatherall in life,<br />then,<br /><br />still<br />and so much<br /><br />inside<br /><br /><br /><object width="425" height="355"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/JAqgNNo0cHs&rel=1"></param><param name="wmode" value="transparent"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/JAqgNNo0cHs&rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"></embed></object><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">(<span style="font-style: italic;">lullaby with(out) my father</span> with images by ana nicolau, IgaNinja, kyle houston cummings, guayasamin, dale wicks, graça morais, peter kozikowski, hau maru and antoine de saint-exupéry.<br />images "waiting" and "mask" by unknown authors.<br />poem "the small square" by sophia de mello breyner andresen, said by luis miguel cintra.<br />music by javier navarrete, from the film "pan's labyrinth")</span>nanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14005442701565298259noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-681399992771887031.post-43991515236177861482007-10-04T20:28:00.000+01:002007-10-04T20:57:06.503+01:00<!-- Free Burma! Image --><br /><a href="http://www.free-burma.org" target="_blank"><img src="http://freeburma.s3.amazonaws.com/free_burma_02.jpg" alt="Free Burma!" width="390" height="165" border="0" /></a><br /><!-- End Free Burma! Image --><br /><br /><a href="http://www.free-burma.org">"when i dare to be powerful, to use my strength in the service of my vision, <br />then it becomes less and less important whether i am afraid." <br /><br />(audrey geraldine lorde)</a href>nanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14005442701565298259noreply@blogger.com7