peuapeu

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Jean-Luc Godard on marriage

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Anonymous. Snowman on a Soviet scale. Zarechny (Penza-19). Late 1960s.

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Along the Banks of the Main, Germany

Bill Perlmutter, 1955

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Terra azul Céu escuro Fantasmas passam nas ruas Como eu fantasma nua A caminhar A quem procuro? Em que corpo quero estar Em que cama repousa espírito tão inquieto? Nas rotas de sol em ritmo blues Em remansos passados Em fechados futuros Em furioso silêncio

Beatriz Nascimento

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Aquilo mesmo que busco Como saída, me interrompe Num tempo de esquecimento Em suspenso Suspense. Ânsia edificada no ar Não tenho a oferecer ao outro A não ser uma vida concluída. A terminar. Um exílio forçado, Não-voluntário. Um susto, muitos riscos Uma eterna ascensão Um lugar não tombado Nenhum traço de união Só uma obra de arte O espaço que ocupo Completo, não despojado Dos meus receios e temores Dos meus ódios e amores Do olhar dessemelhante De qualquer ângulo em que estás.

Beatriz Nascimento

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#loveaffair

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#loveaffair

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bergman [dreams]

#bergman #dreams #film

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eternity and a day

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If there's any kind of magic in this world it must be in the attempt of understanding someone sharing something. I know, it's almost impossible to succeed but who cares really? The answer must be in the attempt.

celine

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I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story. From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked. One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor, and another fig was Ee Gee, the amazing editor, and another fig was Europe and Africa and South America, and another fig was Constantin and Socrates and Attila and a pack of other lovers with queer names and offbeat professions, and another fig was an Olympic lady crew champion, and beyond and above these figs were many more figs I couldn't quite make out. I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn't make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet.

plath

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guillen

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anzaldua - speaking tongues

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anzaldua - the new speakers

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Anzaldua - The coming of el mundo surdo

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