Thursday, March 30, 2006

Fausto

"Enquanto Fausto esteve longe, expandindo-se para além do alcance de Margarida, o «pequeno mundo» de que a arrancara – aquele mundo de «ordem e completa satisfação» que achara tão doce – desabou sobre ela. Assim que a notícia correu, os seus antigos amigos e vizinhos caíram sobre Margarida com bárbara crueldade e fúria vingativa. (…) Margarida leva o seu lamento para a igreja, na esperança de aí encontrar conforto. (…) Tormento e aflição é tudo quanto o seu mundo lhe pode oferecer: os sinos que salvaram a vida do seu amante dobram agora pela sua condenação. (…) Os acontecimentos precipitam-se: o filho de Margarida morre, ela é metida na cadeia, julgada como assassina e condenada à morte. (…) Fausto adoece de culpa e remorso. Num campo desolado, num dia sombrio, enfrenta Mefistófeles e queixa-se do seu destino. (…) O crescimento humano tem custos humanos; quem quer que o deseje tem de pagar o preço, e o preço é altíssimo. (…) Claramente, não há possibilidade de diálogo entre um homem aberto e um mundo fechado".

(Fotografia: Amsterdão, Holanda, Março de 2001 / Texto: sobre Fausto de Goethe, in Tudo o que é sólido se dissolve no ar, de Marshall Berman)

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Wednesday, March 29, 2006

Fugas # 2

Como é simples a vida! Com tanta gente preocupada em sinalizar-nos o caminho nada mais simples do que deixarmo-nos levar. Mas a que preço? Vá lá, quero ser surpreendido! Só que há coisas que nem eu me atrevo a desejar…

(Photography: Breezanddijk, Holanda, Março de 2001)

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Tuesday, March 28, 2006

Away from home # 6

Can I ever find the way back to this place? Will I ever really want to? Happiness is not a place to reach; it’s the road we walk trying to get there, I’m sure. Am I happy here? Yes I am! Will I ever really want to come back here? Yes I will. What am I really saying? I’m saying that maybe my heart belongs to this place, for I can’t feel it beating within me anymore. Anyway, it was good to be awaken by the church bells and the seagulls today. I’m glad I’m alive.

(Photography: Capri, Italy, February 23rd 2006)

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Friday, March 24, 2006

Away from home # 5

Here I am, waiting for you to come...

(Photography: Breezanddijk, Holland, March 2001)

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Muros, barreiras e porcarias do género

Proibido atravessar! Perigo de ser feliz!

(Fotografia: Porto, Portugal, Setembro de 2005)

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Fugas # 1

Quando a noite parece a um passo de me engolir, quando a rapidez das gentes que passam por mim a correr não me permite focá-las com nitidez, quando tudo parece perdido e começo a sentir algumas dificuldades em respirar, um desejo urgente de fugir, há sempre um meio! Por mais escura que esteja a sala, a saída de emergência não deixa de existir só porque não a vejo!

(Fotografia: Lisboa, Portugal, Novembro de 2005)

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Silent mornings

Give me oblivion… Allow me to forget, please, because sometimes I just don’t know if I can make it!

(Photography: Podentes, Portugal, January 2004)

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Home for Christmas

It was very late! We were tired but sleepless, and still had all that wine and cigarettes left… What have we done?

(Photography: Porto, Portugal, December 2005)

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Waiting for spring

It was winter, and I was already waiting for spring…

(Photography: Basingstoke, England, October 2003)

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Tuesday, March 21, 2006

Impressões Digitais

Assim não. Prende a linha levemente com o indicador direito e solta só quando deres o impulso para a frente – dizia-me aquele pai ausente e distante pela quarta vez. Mas eu, sempre que fazia um lançamento, via com um tédio infinito a chumbada a cair novamente a pouca distância, e só queria ir embora. Não sabia, nunca soube, que prazer se podia tirar de passar horas, por vezes ao frio da noite, sentado numa rocha ou no areal, em frente ao mar a olhar para uma linha na esperança de que o peixe mordesse. E caso mordesse? E depois, que tinha isso de especial? Era muito mais rápido e simples comprá-lo no mercado. E certamente menos fastidioso.

Eu só queria sair dali. Não achava mesmo piada nenhuma àquilo. Chegava sempre cansado a casa, todo sujo e com um terrível cheiro a peixe e isco nas pontas dos dedos. Mas ele não me deixava desistir, e se não quisesse participar ao menos tinha de ficar a ver e a aprender. Era realmente a sua grande paixão, o mar e as pescarias de fim-de-semana, a única verdadeira altura em que estávamos juntos: eu, ele e a sua loucura.

Hoje é um outro tempo e aquele tempo não é mais do que um lugar distante no planisfério da memória, cujas coordenadas se perderam na mudança de um tempo para o outro. É assim que eu o vejo.

Hoje sim, sento-me num qualquer paredão de um qualquer lugar distante com a mão direita numa cana e o olhar fixo nas águas, e imagino que amo o mar e o vento e que te amo a ti e às impressões digitais que deixaste espalhadas por toda aquela minha infância longínqua.
Nunca estiveste presente nas fases mais decisivas da minha tão complicada vida. E acho mesmo que te odiei por isso. Hoje já é diferente. É o tal outro tempo, que se distanciou do teu de uma forma facilmente explicável pelos ponteiros do relógio. Não compreendo, mas já aceitei o que havia para aceitar, e agora penso mesmo que amo no mar, no vento e nas pescarias intermináveis o que de ti há neles para que eu ame. Porque te sinto a ausência definitiva nesses lugares. Mas aprendi. Ficarias hoje admirado ao ver a distância dos meus lançamentos: são tão fortes que é como se ficasse parado no meu tempo actual vendo a chumbada a atravessar a cortina dos anos para ir afundar-se nas tuas águas, lá no teu tempo, no lugar onde ficaste definitiva e irremediavelmente parado com os teus cabelos grisalhos a olhar o mar no sítio onde esperavas que o tão desejado peixe mordesse.

(texto: Coimbra, Portugal, 1 de Julho de 1998; fotografia: Porto, Portugal, Novembro de 2005)

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Friday, March 17, 2006

Who left me?

Who forgot to say "come on"?

(Photography: Purmerend, Holland, March 2001)

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Wednesday, March 15, 2006

Eternal City

Where are you? I can feel you here; I just know you’re near… I’ve been chasing you all day, and now the night is coming fast. Where are you? I can feel your scent; I almost can follow your tracks. If only for once things could be perfect… It’s possible that I won’t find you, but it feels reassuring to know you’ll be forever in this city, and that maybe I can find you some day: my emotional self. Part of me will always be home now…

(Photography: Rome, Italy, March 2006)

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Tuesday, March 14, 2006

Je veux te parler d’endroits où tu as toujours été

J’ouvre doucement les yeux. Rien. Je les ferme et je les ouvre à nouveau dans le désir de te voir. Une fois de plus. Et une autre encore. Et une autre encore. Rien. Alors je souris. J’ouvre les yeux. Dehors il fait noir je les ferme à nouveau et à nouveau et à nouveau.

Dix, neuf, huit…

Je veux seulement t’inventer. Une fois encore, une dernière fois. Je me souviens de la lumière qui en fin de journée pénétrait dans la maison transperçant les mailles des rideaux couleur de brique qui dansaient dans la brise chaude et caressante. Je souris et je pense à toi. Je t’invente ici, en des lieux que jamais tu n’as connus et où tu es toujours en ma compagnie. Je pense à toi. Je ferme les yeux et tu es ici et je suis près de toi. Ton temps et le mien sont unis de façon à ce que nous ayons plus de temps. Plus de temps.

Combien le temps a-t-il eu à nous donner ? Tu te souviens ?

Ton visage, ton parfum, ton aura, et ce qui émanait de toi dans chacun de ces petits détails que j’aimerais et que je garderais pour toujours. Et que j’ai tant aimé !

Te souviens-tu encore de moi ?

Dans un mouvement lent et spontané tu me regardes profondément avec tes yeux marron implorants comme si tu ne me reconnaissais plus, comme si tu ne m’avais jamais connu. Comme si tu ne savait pas qui je suis aujourd’hui et que tu voulais timidement me demander une direction quelconque pour te retrouver perdue. Tu détournes ton visage.

Où vas-tu ?

Je voulais te parler, je voulais te dire une chose qui te fasse rester. Je suis incapable. Je ne suis pas doué avec les mots. Regarde moi avec tes yeux fantaisistes, deux grandes perles cousues sur le visage de la plus belle poupée de chiffon. Tu me fais rêver fillette, femme.

Savais-tu que tu me fais rêver ?

Je te désire. Nous savons, au moins, qui nous sommes et où est notre place. Pour des gens comme nous il ne fût jamais difficile de retrouver le chemin de la maison. Ce monde est encore le notre.

Allez, fais moi encore ton tour de magie !

Le regard fixe sur mes vieilles mains tu redresses lentement ton visage jusqu’à ce que nos regards se croisent. Et tu souris. Et le monde commence précisément à cet instant. Je respire ton parfum, un parfum de vanille que ton corps brûlant dégage et laisse dans la maison, dans la chambre, devant l’océan. Tu me parles enfin de toi. J’aimerais te susurrer à l’oreille tout ce qui s’est passé pendant ton absence depuis tant d’années. J’allais à la dérive et tout a changé à l’exception de ce que je ressens quand je te vois.

Chrysalide !

Poses ta main dans la mienne, ton doigt sur mes lèvres, et laisses tes empreintes sur mon corps. Je voudrais t’arrêter à cet instant précis. Et je m’abandonne ici même dans tes cheveux et je m’achemine vers ton visage, ta bouche, où je m’égare, je me retrouve et je m’égare encore. Je sens ta chaleur sur mes lèvres et tes bras m’entourent déjà. Et les heures s’attardent ici jusqu’à ce que le temps s’arrête fasciné et envieux de nous deux.

Avons-nous déjà été si heureux ?

En témoignent les oreillers en désordre sur les draps blancs où on ne dort jamais. J’aimerais pouvoir dire que tu es mon univers, le fil d’Ariane que me retiens à la vie, mais je ne peux pas. Je ne suis et ni même jamais été doué avec les mots. J’ouvre les yeux. Tu me souris et tu t’évapores et deviens plus belle à la première lueur du jour. Je les referme.

C’est déjà fini ?

Je voudrais t’arrêter. Je me lève. Tu te lèves. Ton ombre m’enveloppe et le jour est déjà né. Là où tu étais planent encore dans l’air chaud de respiration des milliers de petites particules colorées. Dans le lit ta place est vide et je sens ton parfum sur mes mains et sur mes lèvres ton goût d’amandes que je goûté à l’aube.

(Texte: Gijon / Oviedo / Porto / Coimbra
19 à 30 juin 2003)

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Away from home # 4

All the children went away, leaving me and my camera and some shattered dreams…

(Photography: Purmerend, Holland, March 2001)

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Away from home # 3


Sometimes nothing makes any sense… But there’s so much beauty in the world today!

(Photography: Amsterdam, Holland, October/November 2000)

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Away from home # 2

I thought we would still have time…

(Photography: La Coruña, Spain, July 2001)

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Monday, March 13, 2006

One more miracle

There was this moment… I didn’t really wanted to return, and so I asked for that secretly…

(Photography: Naples, Italy, February 23rd, 2006)

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Away from home # 1

I had been walking for more than two hours and had found no-one. Where was everybody that day? And it was so cold… I just gave up and lighted a cigarette.

(Photography: Purmerend, Holland, March 18th, 2001)

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Waiting for the Vesuvius to erupt



I stood there, quietly, for more than half an hour for something to happen. But nothing did! And so I got up and remember having though we should regain control over our actions…

(Photography and Text: Capri, Italy, February 23rd, 2006).

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Shepherd

Some years ago, when I was still married to Nicole, I decided to buy a dog. We didn’t have time for thinking about having kids, but since we had a really big house, with a nice garden, I decided to get ourselves a dog to give us some company. Something was missing, you know? But I still had to convince my wife.
Unexpectedly, she took to the idea very easily, and so I went and bought a really beautiful German shepherd. He was very small when I took him home, just a puppy, but in a few months he had grown almost to his full size. He played around in the garden, was obedient, and went out to fetch things we sometimes threw into the garden when Nicole and I argued. Once he had to fetch my mobile…
It didn’t take long for Nicole to grow affectionate with him, and sometimes I got home just to find them both playing in the garden. Sometimes it looked as if we were fighting for his attention. By the way, the shepherd‘s name is Tim.
Some months after that, I returned home a little bit earlier than usual, and parked the car on the street because I had planned to go to the store right after going to the toilet. Nicole had taken a week off from work, and we were planning to spend a few days by the sea.
When I entered the house I heard some moans from the room upstairs. I stood quiet for some seconds, hearing my heartbeat, as the floor turned to rubber beneath my feet. It was Nicole, I was already sure! She was acting strangely for some time. My blood froze! Mechanically, although I really didn’t want to, my legs took me upstairs and my arms made me open the bedroom door. And then I saw it! And it’s still hard for me to believe it happened! Nicole was lying on the bed, naked, legs wide open, and Tim was… God! There’s no need to say anything else. I’m sure you got the idea, and I still want to preserve some dignity. It took a while before she noticed me though, and I got to see her expression of delight.
Of course our relationship deteriorated from there. We stopped talking to each other, unless it was really necessary, began sleeping in separate rooms and eating meals separately. In a few months we were getting a divorce. It was all very hard to cope with, but the worst was still to come, although I was far from imagining it.
During the divorce process we had to sell the house and divide our goods, and since I was the one who bought Tim, I got to keep him… I’ve totally forgot about that detail! And to top it all, Nicole got the right to take him with her at weekends! From that day on, since I don’t have the courage to give him to her – mostly because I don’t want to give her anything – I have to live my life with a dog in my own house whose expression on Sunday nights, whenever he returns from Nicole’s, keep telling me: “Your wife? Been there, done that!” I’m almost certain I’ve seen him smiling!

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Pearls

The company for which I work sent me to Brazil for a few months, ten to be accurate. I had to develop the network for our new office there. I do that a lot, throughout the world.
There are good and bad things about leaving home. Do I need to tell you? I get to stay in the best hotels, have lots of free time for me, have extras added to my pay check, and get to know different cultures. But, on the other hand, I miss my family, home and friends very much. Sometimes it is for too long! Well, I guess there’s no need to complain much because there’s nothing I can do about it. It’s simply what I do.
When I returned, right after the cab turned to our street and I took a first glance at our house, I was nailed to the ground! The house, painted in a tone of grey as I remembered it, was now white! Carol has been keeping busy, I thought! What more surprises could she have for me?
Strangely, although I had informed her about my arrival, she wasn’t waiting for me by the garden gate – I had told her not to bother waiting for me at the airport. Well, I just paid the driver, got my bags out, and faced the house as my heart beat hard in my chest. I was now sure she had arranged for a welcome party, and as soon as I entered the house lots of people would fall over me shouting WELCOME HOME! I was so tired. But I couldn’t let Carol down after all her trouble, and so I grabbed the bags and headed for the door.
My second and third surprises came right when I got in. Second: no one was waiting to welcome me – but that was not bad at all! Third: the furniture was almost all been changed into a new style, more modern and functional. In the hall was now a Mackintosh chair, imagine! Carol has definitely been busy.
I missed her so much that immediately I dropped my bags and went searching for her. I had to hold her in my arms again and kiss her as if for the first time. The first place I went searching was the living room. And there she was! Beautiful as only she can be! It’s amazing how after nine years of marriage she still makes me feel like a teenager in love. And she had on a very smart outfit too: high heels, black tight skirt and a purple blouse I gave her for her birthday – she never wore it because she said it was very provocative!
– Hello Love! I missed you so… – I said reaching for something I had in my pocket for her. – I brought you a present!
– John, I want a divorce! – was the answer she gave me back as she took my offering in her hands.
After the initial shock, she told me about some other man she had met as she unwrapped the package paper and stared at the white beads and shells of the necklace that I had bought for her so full of passion. She told me that she couldn’t cope any more with my long absences from home and all that… She told me she was a human being who had needs and desires too and all that… She told me our daughter needed a father figure and not a picture of some stranger in a foreign country and all that…
As for me, I stood there in front of her listening with a stupid smile on my face and just kept thinking: I definitely should have bought her pearls.

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Lost

Once you told me to leave, that there were absolutely no reasons for us to stay together. From that day on you made my life a drowning experience in a huge Playstation®.
I heard you told all kinds of lies about me to your friends and family. And when asked, you kept saying there was nobody else in your life, even when I saw you holding hands with some guy through a restaurant window.
It was then I started to look for reasons not to love you so much.
After that, you went on and turned our own children against me. Little by little, like water drops from an old tap, they started kind of ignoring me every evening when I returned home tired from work. If they had doubts I do not know. Really! They stopped asking me about anything.
It was then that I thought I had found really good reasons to hate you.
And then came the day when I got home to find you comfortably in bed with Nigel – what kind of name is Nigel? For a moment, brief but filled with pain, I thought I was having a really bad experience with chemicals from a hospital in Chad. But then I finally opened my eyes, and there and then I realised it was it. There was no left space in my body for you to punch me anymore.
I took part of my stuff, mainly clothes and some books, and moved to a vacant flat right across the street. In a few weeks I gave up my job, and every night I stood by a window observing the street in front of our old building. I saw you sometimes return late at night, whenever you returned… And I tried to make a list, in alphabetical order, of all the things I never liked about you and have been meaning to tell you for years. It had to make sense…
For days, months, years, I tried to fill that “hate list”. I had to think very hard – though it was getting harder all the time for me to think –, to make a really huge effort all the neighbours could hear, to try to write something down. I drunk oceans of rum and smoked mountains of cigarettes and yet I couldn’t! The pen never touched the white paper sheet.
I searched for reasons not to love you and I haven’t found any.

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