Friday, September 29, 2006

Self(ish) Portrait

A Secret

A photograph is a secret about a secret. The more it tells you the less you know.

Diane Arbus

Neste Lugar

Fumo Baço

Acendo mais um cigarro
Invento mil ideais
Só que amanhã sei-o bem
É sempre longe demais

Pela janela mal fechada
Chega a hora do cansaço
Vai-se o tempo desfiando
Em anéis de fumo baço

Amanhã longe demais, Rádio Macau

Mais Um Cigarro

Thursday, September 28, 2006


Darkness and obscurity are banished by artificial lighting, and the seasons by air conditioning; night and summer are losing their charm and dawn is disappearing. The man of the cities thinks he has escaped from cosmic reality, but there is no corresponding expansion of his dream life. The reason is clear: dreams spring from reality and are realized in it.
Ivan Chtcheglov, Formulary for a New Urbanism

New Eyes


Nous ne voulons pas d'un monde où la certitude de ne pas mourir de faim s'échange contre le risque de mourir d'ennui.
Anonymous graffiti, Paris 1968



The Situationists had to find a way to take from the system (what else is there to take from?) without being taken in by it. They characterized these possibilities as polarities: detournement (roughly: "diversion") and recuperation (roughly: "recovery"). To turn the system's images against it was to detourn, to divert them. But to be "turned" in turn -- in the argot of the intelligence community -- was to be recuperated, recovered by the system as art, as ideology, as any of many fragmentary forms of specialisation or partial opposition.
(o meu registo do autor do texto foi, lamentavelmente, perdido)

Wednesday, September 27, 2006

A Ghost


Every work of art is an uncommitted crime.

Theodor W. Adorno
Minima moralia. Reflections from damaged life.
(First published in German in 1951.) London (NLB)



num mundo uniforme o exílio é impossível

Guy Debord

Friday, September 15, 2006



An original artist is unable to copy. So he has only to copy in order to be original.

Jean Cocteau

Thursday, September 14, 2006

Eye Scream


My dog barks some. Mentally you picture my dog, but I have not told you the type of dog which I have. Perhaps you even picture Toto, from "The Wizard of Oz." But I warn you, my dog is always with me. WOOF!

David Lynch, Wild at Heart, 1990

Wednesday, September 13, 2006


Used to be

Nostalgia isn't what it used to be.


A Girl

Friday, September 08, 2006


the distance in my eyes equals the distance in your eyes. we are either miles apart or the closer we will ever be. i wonder.

Draft 001

Thursday, September 07, 2006

Feel The Cruel Stones

kinder with poison
than pushed down a well - or a face burnt to hell
feel the cruel stones breaking her bones
dead before born
words fall in ruins - but no sound

Swimming Horses, Siouxsie And The Banshees

No Sound

Wednesday, September 06, 2006


não sei o que se passa nestes dias de setembro, mas passa-se definitivamente alguma coisa. é tudo o que sei.

Some Kind Of Stranger

Tuesday, September 05, 2006

Not Knowing

The question how knowledge should be defined is perhaps the most important and difficult of the three with which we shall deal. This may seem surprising: at first sight it might be thought that knowledge might be defined as belief which is in agreement with the facts. The trouble is that no one knows what a belief is, no one knows what a fact is, and no one knows what sort of agreement between them would make a belief true.
Bertrand Russell (1926), for The Encyclopaedia Britannica

How and Why

Monday, September 04, 2006

... September Song

Oh, it's a long, long while from May to December
But the days grow short when you reach September
When the autumn weather turns the leaves to flame
One hasn't got time for the waiting game

Oh, the days dwindle down to a precious few
September, November
And these few precious days I'll spend with you
These precious days I'll spend with you