Pro Ze.

De me falar, de me conhecer
de me dizer, de me entender
de me ver, de me ouvir
de tudo e do pouco que fiz

Lhe dou o que encontrou em mim.
Historias...
vivo delas e sem elas nao mais seria quem sou.
Momentos...
sem eles aonde poderia estar?
Instantes...
bem interessantes e com um que de Murakami?

Dou a ti um projeto
Desvendar mais historias
pra que nelas possam encontrar outras
ou apenas vive las de algum modo.

E pra ti esta a primeira frase.

"E hoje eu completo os meus 30 anos." - mudado mas acho que mais impactante que o anterior.

E sorrio agora pois tenho mais do que imaginei ter.

Entre estantes de livros, entre instantes da vida.
Entre tantos momentos, entre paginas lidas.
Entre o que me completa, entre o que me define.
Entre tudo e nada, aqui fico.

Entre algo dito, entre algo ouvido.
Entre sonhos distintos, entre sonhos alcancados.
Entre o que me mostra, entre o que me resume.
Entre algo e alguem, aqui mantenho.

Entre tudo que almejo, entre tudo que alcanco.
Entre tantos e poucos, entre meus maiores encantos.
Entre o que quero, entre o que encontro.
entre eu e voce, aqui continuo.

O que quero, o que almejo
O que vejo, o que desejo
O que encontro, o que tenho

De comum acordo
desconheco tudo que sinto
desconheco tudo que conheco

De encontro, de encanto
desconheco o maior engano
e reconheco em olhar o que nao soube desconstruir.

Parei de te procurar
Parei de te encontrar
Pois agora vejo em mim o que antes via em ti.

Agora me diga porque tento a grosso modo te esquecer
se a primeira coisa que vejo sao apenas vontades
e todas elas sao pra lhe mostrar que te deixei e que nao me tera mais.

Tenho que me esquecer de lembrar que devo te esquecer.

Came across....

Entao durante uma conversinha de msn despretenciosa....

O Claudinho me mandou o link pra esse site, e nao eh que a ideia eh otema!!!! Precisava dar um jeito no meu vans bco novo que eu nao consigo usar de tao branquinho...... nao vou fazer isso, mas just a thought!!!!!

clipped from www.iamokat.com barefoot sneaker. having never customized shoes before, i started with a few beers, some left-over acrylic and my own barefeet and ugly toes as inspiration. the amazing response for this concept has been completely unexpected. if you are interested in a custom pair, serious inquiries can e-mail me at: iamokat {at} gmail {dot} com

StumbleUpon a Poem

“The Empty House” by Marjorie Agosin

you return
to the empty house
you recognize yourself
diminished between
its thresholds
you remember that dawn and the
flight
the captive gaze of the neighbors
in the perfidious ceremonies of an
unwelcome goodbye

now you return
in vain, you do not succeed
in finding yourself
the bushes in the garden
are like a love in ruins
bodies abandoned after
useless quarrels
or perhaps bodies of the disappeared
that you seek in vain in your night
in your language
in your memory

you visit your parents’ room
where your mischievous childhood entered
and surprised them in the darkness of their siestas
you are the child who watched over the
exigencies of love

now, the empty bed,
on the walls, stains, cracks,
the ugliness of abandonment

you return to the empty house
to a country at war
without sub machine guns
but still a war caused by forgetting
by the silence of the dead
by the dead hours
by gagged voices

you return in order to still believe in
tenderness
or to feel that something in the wind
reminds you of what was once yours
perhaps the birch tree
swaying in front of the picture windows
on those rainy nights
when you believed in ghosts
their footprints, their laughter
and you let yourself be wrapped in the warmth of sleep
that sheltered your faith

that is why you return today

***

I might not go to war or come from....
but I know how it feels

As vezes a guerra muda de jeito... o q pode ser algo pra uns sera visto diferentemente por outros.... entao

Esse poema reflete um pouco do que sinto antes de partir amanha.... e como poderei estar ao voltar ao meu lar.

and sometimes

Every now and then I read someone else's writing on the wall and I wonder.... Will I ever remember it? Well most of the time I don't recall thinking about it a sec. later.....

Found this blog with pics of "graffiti" on the walls around.... and thank God there are people that take pictures of these things....

Here a couple that I found interesting for my nowadays....

clipped from randomvandal.wordpress.com clipped from randomvandal.wordpress.com clipped from randomvandal.wordpress.com clipped from randomvandal.wordpress.com clipped from randomvandal.wordpress.com clipped from randomvandal.wordpress.com clipped from randomvandal.wordpress.com

what I want for today....

and it all ends with a drag.....

Palavras

Palavras, jogadas ao vento, sopradas ao pe do ouvido, deixadas em um papel, sao apenas palavras, mas as vezes sao piores que uma arma e machucam mais do que qualquer olhar.
Don't say what you might not deliever, don't say what you might want but will not accomplished, don't say anything more than you need. Silent might be the best thing to do sometimes.

B. I believed in your words, that's why I kept on trying
Now I am only left with broken words that gave me such pain. More than anything you ever did to hurt me.

Now I just want silence, no more promises, no more believing in words.

clipped from soundarya.wordpress.com “Words” by Anne Sexton Words Be careful of words, even the miraculous ones. For the miraculous we do our best, sometimes they swarm like insects and leave not a sting but a kiss. They can be as good as fingers. They can be as trusty as the rock you stick your bottom on. But they can be both daisies and bruises. Yet I am in love with words. They are doves falling out of the ceiling. They are six holy oranges sitting in my lap. They are the trees, the legs of summer, and the sun, its passionate face. Yet often they fail me. I have so much I want to say, so many stories, images, proverbs, etc. But the words aren’t good enough, the wrong ones kiss me. Sometimes I fly like an eagle but with the wings of a wren. But I try to take care and be gentle to them. Words and eggs must be handled with care. Once broken they are impossible things to repair. - Anne Sexton

For Ocean Drive

Photos: Richard Reinsdorf
Styling: Charlie Altuna
Hair:
Make Up: Juliana Munoz

I did the assistent styling part, but I chose most of it!

Hj acordei precisando de um algo a mais
Aquele ingrediente que faz o dia mais incrivel
Sai a procurar e ao voltar pra casa
Vi que nao achei em lugar algum
Entao pensei:
Queria entrar num supermercado de emocoes
Encontrar em um corredor os ingredientes para a Felicidade
Lembrar de sempre ter na despensa a alegria instantania
Fazer um bolo de sentimentos
E assim nao me preocupar com mais nada.

Antes a vida fosse assim tao facil
Tudo a venda, tudo a mao

E somente agora percebo o que tanto procuro
O cheiro, o toque, o olhar, o sorriso
Mas o que quero, tornou-se dificil de ter
Do momento que encontrei e deixei partir
Fico aqui a esperar esse sentimento voltar.