And so all else above

 

I'm waiting for the man I love.

 

 

Fierce

 

Writing is a struggle against silence.

Carlos Fuentes

Blue Moon

 

"Blue moon, you saw me standing alone, without a dream in my heart, without a love of my own."

Red

 

Red is a sunset

 

Blazing and bright.
Red is feeling brave
With all your might.
Red is a sunburn
A spot on your nose.
Sometimes red, is a red red rose.
Red squiggles out when you cut your hand.
Red is a brick
And the sounds of a band.
Red is hotness
You get inside
When you’re embarrassed
And want to hide.
Fire-cracker, fire-engine
Fire-flicker red –
And when you’re angry
Red runs through your head.

Red is an Indian
A Valentine heart,
The trimmings on
A circus cart.
Red is a lipstick
Red is a shout
Red is a signal
That says, “Watch out!”
Red is a great big
Rubber ball.
Red is the giant-est
Colour of all.
Red is a show-off,
No doubt about it –
But can you imagine
Living without it?

 

 



P.S- What is Red ? Red is You & I

Today's mood

 

...

Metáfora de cornos e pés-de-cabra.
Um livro. Esse buscar
coisa nenhuma.
Ou só espaço
o grande interminável espaço em branco
por onde corre o sangue a escrita a vida.
Um livro.

Manuel Alegre

Cine Me

 

 

The Eye of the Storm

 

http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1600207/

 

An intelligent, visually sumptuous drama that embraces the grandeur of the Australian literary classic upon which it's based.

 

Fred Schepisi here is classical and restrained, doing White's novel some honour in cinematic terms.

This is a splendid looking work - but somehow the brilliant parts, even the storm itself, along with a parade of beautiful Victorian interiors, are more memorable than the whole, for who could love, or even identify with these monsters of ego and old money.

 

In the end it's a febrile, melancholy artwork, like a late romantic poem or oil landscape: lovely surfaces but no hidden depths.

You see

 

I've got nothing to give you, you see / except everything, everything, everything.

Nothing I write will ever be enough to sum you up

 

 

Cantei no frio da noite, à espera que viesses dizer-me que os vizinhos não conseguiam dormir.

À espera que me viesses dizer que também tu te mantinhas de olhos abertos sem parar de me ver


...

 Valter Hugo Mãe

What I want is for you to tell me straight up what you really feel

 

 



Sunday field

 

It is almost unbearable. You spend the day feel the sweat running down his back and chest. It is trying to quench thirst all the time and even fresh water looks so hot that touches the lips. You feel the air almost unbreathable. It does not have the strength and will to nothing to almost nothing. It is only want to be under cold water. It does not have more to undress. But at the same time just be willing to leave home at dawn. Drink something with ice while looking at the stars. You want to indulge the body in sea water and in the dark of night. It is an enormous heat which still feels like to be all days of the year.

 

 

My sweet embraceable you

 

I had to lock my door
somehow i couldn't warm up
to one before

what was it that controlled me
what kept my love life lean
my intuition told me
you'd come on the scene

Think and wonder. Wonder and think.

 

What need I be so forward with him that calls not on me?

 

 

(Que precisão tenho eu de ir ao encontro

de quem ainda não se lembrou de vir ter comigo?)

Shakespeare
Henrique IV, part I

Cine Me

 

Jin líng shí san chai / The Flowers of War

 

http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1410063/

 

Be that as it may, the Nanjing massacre is still a running sore in China's 20th century history, and Zhang is brave to take it on. It's fair to say that something has been sacrificed in translation, the ponderous romance he offers to appeal to an international audience doesn't really do the historical record full justice. But in terms of focusing the world's attention on China's cinematic muscle, he does admirably.

 

Heralded as a new dawn in China-Hollywood co-operation, this ambitious war film from Zhang Yimou is an attempt to turn the revolting aftermath of the 1937 Japanese assault on Nanjing into a globally friendly, putatively inspiring epic that also aims to underscore the US and China's geopolitical mutual respect.

 

Zhang pulls out lots of directorial stops: there are a number of bravura combat sequences (notably one in which a single Chinese soldier takes out an entire Japanese platoon), a gruesome scene outlining the (documented) nature of the Japanese sexual assaults on civilians, and tremendous handheld cinematography reflecting the girls' panic when the troops storm in. However, despite the energy and care with which each scene is set up, Zhang never quite manages to overcome the penned-in sense of the drama: despite occasional forays outside, most of the action remains churchbound. This wouldn't be a problem in itself – it just seems a little self-defeating in a war epic; the constant scurrying around and squabbling among the women characters doesn't help either, tending to distract from the larger picture.

 

It's a great movie, very touching. The background is Nanking Massacre, at that cruel and desperate history moment, the director finds a special perspective to show us goodness, hope, sacrifice and humanity.

 

But the movie has nothing to do with intendedly giving audience slushy emotional scenes. Even at some dark and sad moments, there is no background music.

All the actors and actresses give a stellar performance. Good story, good acting, beautiful scene. My teacher once said "Audience never cry for tragedy，but they will cry for good things."

Anyway, it's a powerful movie, highly recommended.

 

 

Hey sweetie,well ... need you here

"Only from the heart can you touch the sky."
 

Missing somebody

Wanna meet up ? Call me.

Pablo Neruda

Style is the answer to everything

Style is the answer to everything.
A fresh way to approach a dull or dangerous thing
To do a dull thing with style is preferable to doing a dangerous thing without it
To do a dangerous thing with style is what I call art

Bullfighting can be an art
Boxing can be an art
Loving can be an art
Opening a can of sardines can be an art

Not many have style
Not many can keep style
I have seen dogs with more style than men,
although not many dogs have style.
Cats have it with abundance.

When Hemingway put his brains to the wall with a shotgun,
that was style.
Or sometimes people give you style
Joan of Arc had style
John the Baptist
Jesus
Socrates
Caesar
García Lorca.

I have met men in jail with style.
I have met more men in jail with style than men out of jail.
Style is the difference, a way of doing, a way of being done.
Six herons standing quietly in a pool of water,
or you, naked, walking out of the bathroom without seeing me.

Charles Bukoswshi

Going too far

Only those who risk going too far can possibly find out how far they can go.

T. S. Eliot

She walks into a room, and you know

She's uncommonly rare, very unique,
Peripatetic, poetic and chic.

Cine Me

Ted

http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1637725/

I got into a screening of this movie thanks to my daughter.

Be warned, this is NOT a children's movie. Nudity, drug and alcohol use, plus heavy on the profanity. In other words, go see it! Just leave your (little) kids at home.

Ted does not really work as a fully rounded film but feels more like three episodes of a sitcom strung together.

The sin of Ted is not that it is offensive but that it is boring, lazy and wildly unoriginal. If Triumph the Insult Comic Dog ever got a hold of Ted, there would be nothing left but a pile of fluff and a few scraps of fur.

Get naked

for me.

Cine Me

To Rome With Love

http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1859650/

To Rome with Love is light and fast, with some of the sharpest dialogue and acting that he's put on the screen in years.

 

This is the vital city that inspired Fellini – alive and lived in. When an actor falters or a joke falls flat, Roma stays fresh and dynamic. You can't take your eyes off it.

We see different stories through out the film. Some show aspects of the Italian lifestyle and culture, presented from a beautiful Rome; that city that Allen wants to present to us, his Rome. But other stories present again the issues that have been important to him, those problems that for centuries have raised for humankind: love, infidelity, death, success, fame, happiness; those issues that Allen simply loves to discuss.

The cast is charming and I want to highlight a sincere Roberto Benigni; Jesse Eisenberg, that resembles perfectly the young Woody Allen; and the beautiful and talented Ellen Page, with a powerful character that makes you impossible not to fall in love with her.

I have the huge bias of been a Woody Allen fan and that is probably why I enjoyed so much this movie. It is thrilling to see him acting again. See all that neurosis again in the big screen. This movie surprises, can be as surreal as Buñuel would be and also as real as Allen is with daily problematics.

 

It’s a traffic jam of epic proportions.

And it isn’t just the story, which involves four main threads and numerous sub-threads. The movie also is crowded with characters standing in for Allen, a director who’s famous for casting surrogates -- actors who impersonate the director’s famous neurotic-intellectual tics (see Owen Wilson in “Midnight in Paris,” Kenneth Branagh in “Celebrity,” among others).

The battling Wood-bots include Jesse Eisenberg’s stammering, romantically confused American architecture student; Roberto Benigni’s Italian schlemiel who wakes up one morning to discover that he’s famous for absolutely no reason; and Alessandro Tiberi as a nervous young newlywed from the Italian boondocks who wears oversize shirts buttoned up to the neck, yet who nevertheless winds up fighting off a preposterously gorgeous Roman prostitute (Penelope Cruz) in a case of mistaken identity.

Allen himself makes his first on-camera appearance since 2006’s “Scoop,” playing a former opera director who discovers an undertaker (Fabio Armiliato) with an astounding voice that manifests itself only when he’s in the shower. Of course, this leads to an extended sequence of a naked, soaped-up man in a portable shower stall, performing “Pagliacci” in front of perplexed classical-music fans.

It’s the low point of the film.
Somewhere in here is a real movie, but it’s hard to find in all the mess (which, despite everything, is actually funny from time to time). The best of the many subplots involves Eisenberg’s Jack, a nebbish torn between his live-in girlfriend, Sally (Greta Gerwig), and her visiting best friend, Monica (Ellen Page). Never mind that Page -- who looks like a 13-year-old boy -- is woefully miscast as a sexpot Hollywood actress. The story works for one reason, and one reason only: Alec Baldwin as John, a middle-age architect who once lived in the same Roman apartment that Jack and Sally now occupy.
As John, Baldwin keeps showing up, incongruously, in scenes involving Jack, Sally and Monica. Only Jack and Monica seem to be able to see him, as he offers unsolicited -- and generally disregarded -- romantic advice with the aplomb of an invisible Jack Donaghy. Baldwin also delivers some of the best lines. Otherwise, “Rome” is a little too peppered with one-liners for its own good.
“Is someone dead?” the undertaker asks Allen’s Jerry, when they meet. “No,” Jerry answers, “but it’s early.”
Unfortunately, this promising story line -- which suggests a comic take on how the young must make their own mistakes -- is anemic and underdeveloped. How could it not be? There’s no room for it to grow, with precious screen time eaten up by all the other labored, arch dialogue spoken -- ever so haltingly -- by the movie’s various Woody wannabes.
Then there’s the Roberto Benigni narrative, whose entire point seems to be that fame is better than anonymity. It’s difficult to imagine that Allen believes that, even for a second. What he does seem to believe in is keeping busy, even if it means spinning his wheels.
Coming so soon after the director’s delightful excursion to “Paris” last year, “To Rome With Love” is a giant disappointment. It’s as bustling as its titular city’s piazzas, but it goes nowhere.

Have I told you

Van Morrison is magical.

Monday

Meio-dia. Um canto da praia sem ninguém.
O sol no alto, fundo, enorme, aberto.
Tornou o céu de todo o deus deserto.
A luz cai implacável como um castigo.
Não há fantasmas nem almas,
E o mar imenso solitário e antigo,
Parece bater palmas.

Sophia de Mello Breyner

How I adored you

Only parts of us will ever
touch only parts of others –
one’s own truth is just that really — one’s own truth.
We can only share the part that is understood by within another’s knowing acceptable to
the other — therefore so one
is for most part alone.
As it is meant to be in
evidently in nature — at best though perhaps it could make
our understanding seek
another’s loneliness out.

P.S- With love from me to you. Miss you.

That summer feeling in my heart

Marilyn

Icône forever.

Sexy & Summery

                                               ...

                                               Se te apreendessem minhas mãos, forma do vento
                                               na cevada pura, de ti viriam cheias
                                               minhas mãos sem nada. Se uma vida dormisses
                                               em minha espuma,
                                               que frescura indecisa ficaria no meu sorriso?
                                               - No entanto és tu que te moverás na matéria
                                              da minha boca, e serás uma árvore
                                              dormindo e acordando onde existe o meu sangue.

                                              Beijar teus olhos será morrer pela esperança.
                                              Ver no aro de fogo de uma entrega
                                              tua carne de vinho roçada pelo espírito de Deus
                                              será criar-te para luz dos meus pulsos e instante
                                              do meu perpétuo instante.
                                              - Eu devo rasgar minha face para que a tua face
                                              se encha de um minuto sobrenatural,
                                              devo murmurar cada coisa do mundo
                                              até que sejas o incêndio da minha voz.
                                              ...

 

Herberto Helder
 

 



Crescendo

The kisses start slow, then amplify.What belonged to the lips now belongs to the body.