tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-315031612024-03-08T02:17:08.184+00:00VISCERALidademas que se use o olfacto, a visão e a musicaLidade intrínseca...saudosista do futurohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14799785309101411411noreply@blogger.comBlogger57125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31503161.post-14643172452862258542008-11-17T23:13:00.003+00:002008-11-17T23:33:58.634+00:00fragmentos # 2 - coisas do arco e da velha<embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://stat.radioblogclub.com/radio.blog/skins/mini/player.swf" allowscriptaccess="always" bgcolor="#FBFBFB" id="radioblog_player_-1" flashvars="id=-1&filepath=http://www.radioblogclub.com/listen2?u=2wLzRmb192cvc2bsJmLvlGZhJ3LnJ3buEGdzlmdyVGdsFmLvtmblJ3az9Wa/02-Truby%2520Trio%2520_%2520High%2520Jazz%2520%2528Nicola%2520Conte%2520Mix%2529%2520%2528feat%2520Joseph%2520Malik%2529.rbs&colors=body:#FBFBFB;border:#F8F8F8;button:#242424;player_text:#121212;playlist_text:#999999;" width="180" height="23"></embed><br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://s248.photobucket.com/albums/gg163/saudosistadofuturo/?action=view&current=SU_DOR_IFERO-1.png" target="_blank"><img src="http://i248.photobucket.com/albums/gg163/saudosistadofuturo/SU_DOR_IFERO-1.png" alt="su_DOR_ifero" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /></div>saudosista do futurohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14799785309101411411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31503161.post-78546952048438289732008-10-18T22:43:00.012+01:002008-11-17T23:36:48.101+00:00fragmentos # 1 - jogo de equilíbrio precário<div style="text-align: left;"><embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://stat.radioblogclub.com/radio.blog/skins/mini/player.swf" allowscriptaccess="always" bgcolor="#FBFBFB" id="radioblog_player_-1" flashvars="id=-1&filepath=http://www.radioblogclub.com/listen2?u=2wLzRmb192cvInZuUWZyZmLpVHausGd/jazz%2520-%2520Miles%2520Davis%2520-%252001%2520-%2520So%2520What.rbs&colors=body:#FBFBFB;border:#F9F9F9;button:#5A5A5A;player_text:#5A5A5A;playlist_text:#999999;" width="180" height="23"></embed><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">instalam-se no sudorífero uma série de imagens que aparecerão sobre a insígnia </span><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;" >fragmentos</span><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"> #</span>. é tempo de re<span style="font-weight: bold;">V</span>oltar há <span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">imagem.</span></span> de a expor desamparada de palavras.</span><br /><br /></div><br /><a href="http://s248.photobucket.com/albums/gg163/saudosistadofuturo/?action=view&current=amulherrefractada-1.png" target="_blank"><img src="http://i248.photobucket.com/albums/gg163/saudosistadofuturo/amulherrefractada-1.png" alt="a mulher refractada" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /></div>saudosista do futurohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14799785309101411411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31503161.post-30225412078103486292008-06-20T18:25:00.005+01:002008-07-06T14:37:55.098+01:00<embed id="radioblog_player_-1" src="http://stat.radioblogclub.com/radio.blog/skins/mini/player.swf" width="180" height="23" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" bgcolor="#FBFBFB" flashvars="id=-1&filepath=http://www.radioblogclub.com/listen2?u=0vMHZuV3bz9yZvxmYu8WakFmcvQXZu5iYhxWYrVnchhmL3d3d/Smoke%2520City%2520-%2520Underwater%2520Love.rbs&colors=body:#FBFBFB;border:#FEFEFE;button:#363636;player_text:#363636;playlist_text:#999999;"></embed><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://s248.photobucket.com/albums/gg163/saudosistadofuturo/?action=view&current=gritosss_gratos.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="gr_IT_o" src="http://i248.photobucket.com/albums/gg163/saudosistadofuturo/gritosss_gratos.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:courier new;">assim se vão arquitectando as histórias sudoríferas. assim se vão (re)criando cenários do tacto mas sempre com grandes nacos de coração à mistura.</span></span> </div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify">.</div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"></div>saudosista do futurohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14799785309101411411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31503161.post-41439015913834572102008-06-02T23:12:00.005+01:002008-07-06T14:36:13.669+01:00<div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"><br /><embed id="radioblog_player_-1" src="http://stat.radioblogclub.com/radio.blog/skins/mini/player.swf" width="180" height="23" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" flashvars="id=-1&filepath=http://www.radioblogclub.com/listen2?u=18yck5WdvN3Ln9GbC5ybpRWYS9icm5SZlJnZugWazF2a/James%2520Brown%2520-%2520Sex%2520Machine.rbs&colors=body:#FBFBFB;border:#FAFAFA;button:#121212;player_text:#121212;playlist_text:#999999;" bgcolor="#FBFBFB" allowscriptaccess="always"></embed><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://s248.photobucket.com/albums/gg163/saudosistadofuturo/?action=view&current=ela.png" target="_blank"><img alt="Photobucket" src="http://i248.photobucket.com/albums/gg163/saudosistadofuturo/ela.png" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: center;font-family:courier new;" ><span style="font-size:100%;">ela dizia abertamente: "fode-me".<br />ele não o dizia mas pensava-o<br />muitas vezes. (<i>fa</i></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><i>lam a mesma<br />coisa mas de uma outra forma.</i></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><br />uma voz muito alta diz num<br />grito muito seco: "eles fazem<br />amor numa espé</span><span style="font-size:100%;">cie de formigueiro<br />que se aloja n</span><span style="font-size:100%;">as extremidades<br />viscerais do corpo." </span><span style="font-size:100%;">e agora<br />sou eu que digo num grito<br />menos seco e</span><span style="font-size:100%;"> alto mas de uma<br />outra forma: "era se</span><span style="font-size:100%;">mpre o<br />somatório e nunca uma<br />das partes".<br /></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span><span style="font-size:100%;">- "fodo-te, amor. hoje o mundo são<br />os nossos sexos. hoje somos as línguas</span><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span><span style="font-size:100%;">enroladas por dentro dos olhos.<br />dois peitos muit</span><span style="font-size:100%;">o apertados".</span></p><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:courier new;"><br /></span></span><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:courier new;">texto ficcionado nos meandros de uma certa linha sudorífera que se havia desviado por uns tempos e que volta alimentada por um peito que se abre e de onde explode a palavrinha mágica.</span></span><br /></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj0m-vLV4r3brCjWiY3uZL-VQbc2_UR9TbU4nhUbow0IOoveyWHkVyrKWW5vVfiHQUz-TPJzzJaTMoT2-FjAxdSlA3UqA_Zj2KO3BpaXO03GIXScrRKT4gJ5QKGGSVHqGc-V-E/s1600-h/amor.png"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207421958958539922" style="CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj0m-vLV4r3brCjWiY3uZL-VQbc2_UR9TbU4nhUbow0IOoveyWHkVyrKWW5vVfiHQUz-TPJzzJaTMoT2-FjAxdSlA3UqA_Zj2KO3BpaXO03GIXScrRKT4gJ5QKGGSVHqGc-V-E/s400/amor.png" border="0" /></a><br /></div>saudosista do futurohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14799785309101411411noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31503161.post-57589982302232027732008-05-13T22:52:00.006+01:002008-05-13T23:34:40.631+01:00<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://s248.photobucket.com/albums/gg163/saudosistadofuturo/?action=view&current=torstenBrandt.jpg" target="_blank"><img src="http://i248.photobucket.com/albums/gg163/saudosistadofuturo/torstenBrandt.jpg" alt="Photobucket" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: right;"><embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://stat.radioblogclub.com/radio.blog/skins/mini/player.swf" allowscriptaccess="always" bgcolor="#990000" id="radioblog_player_-1" flashvars="id=-1&filepath=http://www.radioblogclub.com/listen2?u=2wLzRmb192cvc2bsJmLvlGZhJ3LyZmLlVmcm5CbpNXZyJWdhNXdilmc0JTMzVGb/05-Mamae%2520Eu%2520Quero.rbs&colors=body:#990000;border:#5A5A5A;button:#330000;player_text:#EAEAEA;playlist_text:#999999;" height="23" width="180"></embed><br /></div></div><br /><div style="text-align: right;">_________________</div>saudosista do futurohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14799785309101411411noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31503161.post-15860111875645638092008-02-29T02:25:00.009+00:002008-04-10T11:34:31.119+01:00<a href="http://s248.photobucket.com/albums/gg163/saudosistadofuturo/?action=view&current=outrochuo-1.jpg" target="_blank"><img src="http://i248.photobucket.com/albums/gg163/saudosistadofuturo/outrochuo-1.jpg" alt="Photobucket" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="http://s248.photobucket.com/albums/gg163/saudosistadofuturo/?action=view&current=outrochuo4-1.jpg" target="_blank"><img src="http://i248.photobucket.com/albums/gg163/saudosistadofuturo/outrochuo4-1.jpg" alt="Photobucket" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:courier new;" >a sede mantém-se. porém o abraço é já reconhecido.</span><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span><div style="text-align: right;"><object height="80" width="300"><param name="movie" value="http://media.imeem.com/m/3ANfBcJOf0"><param name="wmode" value="transparent"><embed src="http://media.imeem.com/m/3ANfBcJOf0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="80" width="300"></embed></object><br /><br />:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::<br /></div></div>saudosista do futurohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14799785309101411411noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31503161.post-31597729464252849602008-01-07T14:37:00.000+00:002008-01-31T01:29:55.189+00:00<a href="http://s248.photobucket.com/albums/gg163/saudosistadofuturo/?action=view&current=GSEEUltiMO.jpg" target="_blank"></a><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://s248.photobucket.com/albums/gg163/saudosistadofuturo/?action=view&current=GSEEUltiMO.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="gl&acirc;ndula sudor&iacute;fera" src="http://i248.photobucket.com/albums/gg163/saudosistadofuturo/GSEEUltiMO.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:courier new;"><strong></strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:courier new;"><strong></strong></span></div><div align="center" style="font-family:courier new;"><span style="font-size:180%;"><strong>.</strong></span></div><div align="center" style="font-family:courier new;"><strong><span style="font-size:180%;">.<br /><br /></span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style=";font-family:Courier New;font-size:180%;" ></span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style=";font-family:Courier New;font-size:180%;" ></span></strong></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center" style="font-family:courier new;"><span style="font-size:130%;">sou saudosista e pronto. do futuro, é certo, </span></div><div align="center" style="font-family:courier new;"><span style="font-size:130%;">mas esta ideia de fim, que é mais uma pausa, </span></div><div align="center" style="font-family:courier new;"><span style="font-size:130%;">(vício antigo, este!) impeliu-me a pensar a rebole </span></div><div align="center" style="font-family:courier new;"><span style="font-size:130%;">do uni.verso sudorífero. e aqui estou, neste (e este, sim!) </span></div><div align="center" style="font-family:courier new;"><span style="font-size:130%;">último post de mais um capítulo de apoteóticas fantasias</span></div><div align="center" style="font-family:courier new;"><span style="font-size:130%;">desta personagem que vou lentamente desmontando. </span></div><div align="center" style="font-family:courier new;"><span style="font-size:130%;">sendo tudo um pretexto para me confrontar e ao mundo.</span></div><div align="center"><span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:130%;" ></span> </div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-family:Courier New;"></span></strong></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Courier New;">___________________________________________________<br /><a style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51);" href="http://saudosistadofuturo.blogspot.com/"><br /></a>..........................<br /><a style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);" href="http://saudosistadofuturo.blogspot.com/"><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0);">por aqui. com tudo.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);">saudosistadofuturo</span></a><br />..................<br /></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Courier New;"></span> </div><div align="center"><a href="http://s248.photobucket.com/albums/gg163/saudosistadofuturo/?action=view&current=GSEEUltiMO.jpg" target="_blank"></a> </div>saudosista do futurohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14799785309101411411noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31503161.post-87653330651755281372007-12-28T14:45:00.000+00:002007-12-31T12:28:14.110+00:00<embed id="radioblog_player_-1" src="http://stat.radioblogclub.com/radio.blog/skins/mini/player.swf" width="180" height="23" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" bgcolor="#993300" flashvars="id=-1&filepath=http://www.radioblogclub.com/listen?u=..wLzRmb192cvc2bsJmLvlGZhJ3LvlGZhJ1LnJ3buMXZu5WZpFGczVmbpNWYy5SZzNXZlRWLlxGctVGd/Lhasa%2520De%2520Sela%2520-%2520Con%2520Toda%2520Palabra.rbs&colors=body:#993300;border:#993300;button:#330000;player_text:#ECECEC;playlist_text:#999999;"></embed><br /><br /><a href="http://s248.photobucket.com/albums/gg163/saudosistadofuturo/?action=view¤t=GSudor332300dpi.jpg" target="_blank"><img src="http://i248.photobucket.com/albums/gg163/saudosistadofuturo/GSudor332300dpi.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket"></a><br /><br /><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify">está aqui muito do meu código genético e fantasioso. é a palavra desenhada com as palavras do corpo. é a forma do corpo a desencadear palavras. é o desdenhar de ambos nesse jogo perigoso e por demais apetecível, do qual (momentaneamente) me descarto. e é por um período indefinível que me anulo em versão sudorífera, deixando um rasto que se arrasta há mais de dois anos. fui, de várias formas, pela linguagem corpórea e impalpável, de forma a que a imaginação lhe desse esse espectro de carne e osso do qual tantas vezes nos alimentamos. palavra&imagem. explosiva combinação que nos liga. </div>saudosista do futurohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14799785309101411411noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31503161.post-80919969412322122322007-12-11T14:26:00.000+00:002007-12-12T22:01:55.441+00:00<embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://stat.radioblogclub.com/radio.blog/skins/mini/player.swf" allowScriptAccess="always" width="180" height="23" bgcolor="#484848" id="radioblog_player_-1" FlashVars="id=-1&filepath=http://www.radioblogclub.com/listen?u=..wLzRmb192cvc2bsJmLvlGZhJ3Ly9mcyV2X0ADNvQXau8mclJWas5iclRmbhxWanlGZ/01_That%2520Old%2520Feeling.rbs&colors=body:#484848;border:#6C6C6C;button:#ECECEC;player_text:#DADADA;playlist_text:#999999;" ></embed><br /><br /><br /><p align="left"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizDt8RRJc935_gqrJgZW-FDl74gZHQKXF_KPtweforvMOoFQxRgOo0iaMTwc0EL6XfS8bu1ymWr-aPcg9mA5G7tMgwpL7X8ox8v1T7mG0AzLcrYxWqrJX2W77abs_hKWFpFDRa/s1600-h/finearts_KimStyle....dsdswwxs.jpg"></a></p><p align="center"></p><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizDt8RRJc935_gqrJgZW-FDl74gZHQKXF_KPtweforvMOoFQxRgOo0iaMTwc0EL6XfS8bu1ymWr-aPcg9mA5G7tMgwpL7X8ox8v1T7mG0AzLcrYxWqrJX2W77abs_hKWFpFDRa/s1600-h/finearts_KimStyle....dsdswwxs.jpg"></a> </p><p align="center"> </p><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizDt8RRJc935_gqrJgZW-FDl74gZHQKXF_KPtweforvMOoFQxRgOo0iaMTwc0EL6XfS8bu1ymWr-aPcg9mA5G7tMgwpL7X8ox8v1T7mG0AzLcrYxWqrJX2W77abs_hKWFpFDRa/s1600-h/finearts_KimStyle....dsdswwxs.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5142722112081889570" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizDt8RRJc935_gqrJgZW-FDl74gZHQKXF_KPtweforvMOoFQxRgOo0iaMTwc0EL6XfS8bu1ymWr-aPcg9mA5G7tMgwpL7X8ox8v1T7mG0AzLcrYxWqrJX2W77abs_hKWFpFDRa/s400/finearts_KimStyle....dsdswwxs.jpg" border="0" /></a></p>saudosista do futurohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14799785309101411411noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31503161.post-2676903931657826032007-11-09T15:37:00.000+00:002007-11-09T15:44:29.637+00:00<embed id="radioblog_player_-1" src="http://stat.radioblogclub.com/radio.blog/skins/mini/player.swf" width="180" height="23" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" bgcolor="#330033" flashvars="id=-1&filepath=http://www.radioblogclub.com/listen?u=..wLzRmb192cvc2bsJmLvlGZhJ3LrVnLvNmLyV2ZuFmc55WYw12bjxmL3d3d/616%2520-%2520santana%2520-%2520black%2520magic%2520woman.mp3.rbs&colors=body:#330033;border:#330033;button:#D8D8D8;player_text:#D8D8D8;playlist_text:#999999;"></embed><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyDTon0azXGXY5_u2uaXRmmkwAAqebPsej4I2VmqE41BXAMKUZlUFaWz85-k8PsocZCkRjUK7qagOlhkj2zZLskxJJxx0yTdRO2afJB_yVsViQWiOcc0lvKtE4uhXrkqnppJ-g/s1600-h/ela+mas+outra.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130865857650680066" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyDTon0azXGXY5_u2uaXRmmkwAAqebPsej4I2VmqE41BXAMKUZlUFaWz85-k8PsocZCkRjUK7qagOlhkj2zZLskxJJxx0yTdRO2afJB_yVsViQWiOcc0lvKtE4uhXrkqnppJ-g/s400/ela+mas+outra.jpg" border="0" /></a></p><div align="center"><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;"><strong>e eu com o olhar sujo e igualmente misterioso. quantas vezes para comigo mesmo.</strong></span></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-family:Courier New;"></span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-family:Courier New;">::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::</span></strong></div>saudosista do futurohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14799785309101411411noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31503161.post-71083602970561577262007-10-30T13:31:00.000+00:002007-11-06T14:01:49.248+00:00<embed id="radioblog_player_-1" src="http://stat.radioblogclub.com/radio.blog/skins/mini/player.swf" width="180" height="23" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" bgcolor="#330000" flashvars="id=-1&filepath=http://www.radioblogclub.com/listen?u=vMHZuV3bz9yZvxmYu8WakFmcvAXbk9Sdo5yavBneukGa/050%2520Time%2520And%2520Space%2520%2528Cinematic%2520Orchestra%2529.rbs&colors=body:#330000;border:#330000;button:#CBCBCB;player_text:#DADADA;playlist_text:#999999;"></embed><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEeTzQ9Lhulq3L4-UakGe8MwFPuGsIxlbCgfsKCJ-nmK73dKt5geFAbtciRYylOVipM8kYJDCLuhyphenhyphenHnIbOzbih_3ofnD_MxbbDdyBkiviAQ1tH28uRIw8GaLFpTiNeg0mNfY4G/s1600-h/6gif.gif"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5127122205266538418" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEeTzQ9Lhulq3L4-UakGe8MwFPuGsIxlbCgfsKCJ-nmK73dKt5geFAbtciRYylOVipM8kYJDCLuhyphenhyphenHnIbOzbih_3ofnD_MxbbDdyBkiviAQ1tH28uRIw8GaLFpTiNeg0mNfY4G/s400/6gif.gif" border="0" /></a></p><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><strong>disforme forma de te sentir. </strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><strong>camuflada e irreal certeza do reencontro pontual e vitalício. </strong></span></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-family:Verdana;"></span></strong> </div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-family:Verdana;"></span></strong> </div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><strong></strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><strong>um silêncio que se traduz na curva padronizada do peito.</strong></span> </div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div align="right"><span style="font-family:courier new;"><strong>vector saudosista. do futuro em palavras e outras artes implícitas. e é só mais um grito. hoje, pleno de outono. som que memorizo.</strong></span> </div>saudosista do futurohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14799785309101411411noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31503161.post-32434375667783764172007-10-18T20:41:00.000+01:002007-10-18T20:56:01.963+01:00<embed id="radioblog_player_-1" src="http://stat.radioblogclub.com/radio.blog/skins/mini/player.swf" width="180" height="23" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" bgcolor="#252525" flashvars="id=-1&filepath=http://www.radioblogclub.com/listen?u=vMHZuV3bz9yZvxmYu8WakFmcvUHaucXduE2Zy9me/matthew%2520herbert%2520-%2520foreign%2520bodies.rbs&colors=body:#252525;border:#3B3B3B;button:#DBDBDB;player_text:#C8C8C8;playlist_text:#999999;"></embed><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><p align="center"></p><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7A1YE5tr-uWOWcO4rmasvw3Sx-4Q_bGSDN2isg1DgDUkpMKBfd44Cvya7TJYILXsLoHsq_4MWgb1GB2vf_GwSMUMmdPuiCc3U8-sjftTnHPnCQACemQH2e9hBKTul0xSBmoiF/s1600-h/888weston_nude_1936.gif"></a></p><br /><br /><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7A1YE5tr-uWOWcO4rmasvw3Sx-4Q_bGSDN2isg1DgDUkpMKBfd44Cvya7TJYILXsLoHsq_4MWgb1GB2vf_GwSMUMmdPuiCc3U8-sjftTnHPnCQACemQH2e9hBKTul0xSBmoiF/s1600-h/888weston_nude_1936.gif"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5122764322621931330" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7A1YE5tr-uWOWcO4rmasvw3Sx-4Q_bGSDN2isg1DgDUkpMKBfd44Cvya7TJYILXsLoHsq_4MWgb1GB2vf_GwSMUMmdPuiCc3U8-sjftTnHPnCQACemQH2e9hBKTul0xSBmoiF/s400/888weston_nude_1936.gif" border="0" /></a></p><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-family:verdana;">razão inanimada das ondulações corpóreas e exageradamente perfeitas. reformulo. sendo que o exagero só o é no (a)caso de à partida não ser do agrado, e assim sendo, fiquemos pela perfeição da onda.</span></strong></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span><strong><br /></div></strong><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-family:verdana;">eu, do alto dos meus 27 anos celsius; eu que trago o mar inteiro cravado no olhar focado e aéreo, sALIENto o que a onda conserva na espuma impenetrável, e travo uma guerra que se arrasta até aos ossos. mas travo-A.<br />não fosse eu gajo de sonhar por cima disso e talvez o carreiro fosse mais vincado. esse mesmo da lágrima que teima em mergulhar para dentro.<br /></span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-family:verdana;">o rosto. a face visível e tantas vezes intransponível.</span></strong> </div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"><br /> </div>saudosista do futurohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14799785309101411411noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31503161.post-38937417302518780032007-10-12T17:03:00.000+01:002007-10-12T17:18:58.698+01:00<embed id="radioblog_player_-1" src="http://stat.radioblogclub.com/radio.blog/skins/mini/player.swf" width="180" height="23" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" bgcolor="#242424" flashvars="id=-1&filepath=http://www.radioblogclub.com/listen?u=vMHZuV3bz9yZvxmYu8WakFmcvw2YuEmcnFmL3d3d/Lhasa%2520de%2520Sela%2520-%2520De%2520cara%2520a%2520la%2520pared.rbs&colors=body:#242424;border:#262626;button:#F0F0F0;player_text:#E0E0E0;playlist_text:#999999;"></embed><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><p align="left"></p><p align="center"></p><p align="center"></p><p align="center"></p><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicezTGmda3y9eEXlGIOl0qjgW-6BMKuzfZ4PF6dPeGp3ev-0-hE4n8rVcIrKgT2a_0eW4TeiQjHgThYbnUKCOR4DYA9Ai1JLXV6tJXaNd9aHiHj-9IEEKe6YO_GUR83Oeh6gWN/s1600-h/1.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5120481762252472066" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicezTGmda3y9eEXlGIOl0qjgW-6BMKuzfZ4PF6dPeGp3ev-0-hE4n8rVcIrKgT2a_0eW4TeiQjHgThYbnUKCOR4DYA9Ai1JLXV6tJXaNd9aHiHj-9IEEKe6YO_GUR83Oeh6gWN/s400/1.jpg" border="0" /></a></p><br /><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:verdana;">esta é a </span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:verdana;">prova viva </span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:verdana;">do mistério </span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:verdana;">que ainda </span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:verdana;">me inflinges. </span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;"><strong>és tu no seio. </strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;"><strong>isso é por demais</strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Courier New;font-size:130%;"><strong>evidente.</strong> </span><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;">e eu seiO. </span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:130%;">mas serão </span><span style="font-size:130%;">precisos </span></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:130%;">mil anos </span><span style="font-size:130%;">para que a flôr </span></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:130%;">se abra inteira</span><span style="font-size:130%;">mente </span></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:130%;">para trás </span><span style="font-size:130%;">das costas.</span></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:180%;">sendo que aí<span style="font-size:100%;">,</span> </span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:180%;"><strong>T.U.D.O.</strong></span></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:180%;"></span></strong> </div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:180%;"></span></strong> </div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:180%;"></span></strong> </div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-family:Courier New;font-size:180%;"></span></strong></div><div align="center"></div>saudosista do futurohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14799785309101411411noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31503161.post-14704926949253411012007-09-18T17:05:00.000+01:002007-09-19T15:44:34.308+01:00<embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://stat.radioblogclub.com/radio.blog/skins/mini/player.swf" allowScriptAccess="always" width="180" height="23" bgcolor="#003333" id="radioblog_player_0" FlashVars="id=0&filepath=http://www.radioblogclub.com/listen?u=.8yck5WdvN3Ln9Gbi5ybpRWYy9ichVGbjR3bk9icm5SZlJnZu02b0VWdxl2a/Zero%25207%2520-%2520Simple%2520Things%2520-%252004%2520-%2520Give%2520It%2520Away.mp3.rbs&cover=1&crossfader=1&replay=1&colors=body:#003333;border:#5C5C5C;button:#EBEBEB;player_text:#EAEAEA;playlist_text:#999999;"></embed><br /><br /><br /><p align="left"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPs21QBnajN5eym5MuiFdBUApbxL6oL4isordwRRILHbCJCCCmucuH0pZbWhTCDlgG1rhoWjESOdOUohb4v6IcjoVlsRGzg0KVuGUrZ7mStdNgQ92IHxgDzOErpT9S0WdtEjJC/s1600-h/voyeur2.gif"></a></p><p> </p><p><br /><br /> </p><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPs21QBnajN5eym5MuiFdBUApbxL6oL4isordwRRILHbCJCCCmucuH0pZbWhTCDlgG1rhoWjESOdOUohb4v6IcjoVlsRGzg0KVuGUrZ7mStdNgQ92IHxgDzOErpT9S0WdtEjJC/s1600-h/voyeur2.gif"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5111576776999075730" style="CURSOR: hand" height="411" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPs21QBnajN5eym5MuiFdBUApbxL6oL4isordwRRILHbCJCCCmucuH0pZbWhTCDlgG1rhoWjESOdOUohb4v6IcjoVlsRGzg0KVuGUrZ7mStdNgQ92IHxgDzOErpT9S0WdtEjJC/s400/voyeur2.gif" width="276" border="0" /></a></p><br /><br /><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><strong><span style="font-family:courier new;">trabalho concebido no entretanto de "vai e vem" de joão césar monteiro. as pinturas de fundo dão-se pelo nome de "Miss OMorphy" e "Mausoleu dos Desvairados", e são de outros/as ilustres desconhecidos/as.</span></strong><strong><span style="font-family:courier new;"> a palavra, essa, veio uma outra vez desse intervalo imperceptível entra a saudade que resta e o futuro que venha. e o resto é o resto. não importa por agora.<br /><br />a certa altura joão césar monteiro diz: contra todos os fogos, o fogo. o meu fogo. assino por baixo: sudorífero do futuro.</span></strong></div>saudosista do futurohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14799785309101411411noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31503161.post-57393821748342438092007-09-05T17:47:00.000+01:002007-09-05T18:01:17.444+01:00<embed id="radioblog_player_0" src="http://stat.radioblogclub.com/radio.blog/skins/mini/player.swf" width="180" height="23" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" bgcolor="#4F4F4F" flashvars="id=0&filepath=http://www.radioblogclub.com/listen?u=.8yck5WdvN3Ln9Gbi5ybpRWYy9icm5SZlJnZuEWZyFGdmVGZ/Bob%2520Marley%2520-%2520Sun%2520Is%2520Shining.rbs&cover=1&crossfader=1&replay=1&colors=body:#4F4F4F;border:#212121;button:#D9D9D9;player_text:#EBEBEB;playlist_text:#999999;"></embed><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVLzOuR4XoG2RD6oX4Px1OokNkPsFeBirQytd-SuoTpKEhhBPoi0Ig9tze3kWmoW9QAf96b7BUzMshYnjHdjm4kP2Airb5rVz4UIlLsn7VXvJzQS3WW92Slk4GYHIDeSMBKguP/s1600-h/Swine+-+JAN+SAUDEK+XXXyyy.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5106763349911746306" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVLzOuR4XoG2RD6oX4Px1OokNkPsFeBirQytd-SuoTpKEhhBPoi0Ig9tze3kWmoW9QAf96b7BUzMshYnjHdjm4kP2Airb5rVz4UIlLsn7VXvJzQS3WW92Slk4GYHIDeSMBKguP/s400/Swine+-+JAN+SAUDEK+XXXyyy.jpg" border="0" /></a></p><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"><strong>no plural, cores. </strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"><strong>a amalgama delas</strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"><strong>na tela de projectar cinema.</strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"><strong></strong></span></div><div align="center"><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"><strong>cada cor trazia apeada em si</strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"><strong>um som desinteressado e assertivo.</strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"><strong>e isso era o sonho de qualquer</strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"><strong>orquestra arco-íris, que é o sítio</strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"><strong>onde a euforia das cores pernoita </strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"><strong>indiscreta dos olhares </strong></span></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">que só vêm por fora.</span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:130%;"></span></strong> </div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:130%;"></span></strong> </div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:130%;"></span></strong> </div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:130%;"></span></strong> </div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:130%;"></span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:130%;"></span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:130%;"></span></strong></div><p><strong><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:130%;"></span></strong></p><p align="right"><span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;">na palavra saudo-sudorífera sobre a fotografia de JAN SAUDEK, intitulada "Swine".</span></p><p><span style="font-family:Courier New;font-size:85%;"></span></p>saudosista do futurohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14799785309101411411noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31503161.post-70209426356033191802007-08-26T03:22:00.001+01:002007-08-26T03:55:06.981+01:00<embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://stat.radioblogclub.com/radio.blog/skins/mini/player.swf" allowscriptaccess="always" bgcolor="#006699" id="radioblog_player_0" flashvars="id=0&filepath=http://www.radioblogclub.com/listen?u=vMHZuV3bz9yZvxmYu8WakFmcvInZuUWZyZmLsV2czV3by5CZyFmbvVGb/06%2520Big%2520Time%2520Sensuality.rbs&cover=1&crossfader=1&replay=1&colors=body:#006699;border:#330000;button:#330000;player_text:#CACACA;playlist_text:#999999;" height="23" width="180"></embed><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGQcPya8UShsFDsWAJQaHA3Dd8FNTuhg1dvAbt8cB5py1sCFtlY8F3wTGvB31n6Yhm7ALGD_Dxfca1BKgq3XKn9IlIfzCK__GE6doo5L4exOfSa60336R38niwiMeBCRChK0XO/s1600-h/olho+FINAL+%28jpeg%29.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGQcPya8UShsFDsWAJQaHA3Dd8FNTuhg1dvAbt8cB5py1sCFtlY8F3wTGvB31n6Yhm7ALGD_Dxfca1BKgq3XKn9IlIfzCK__GE6doo5L4exOfSa60336R38niwiMeBCRChK0XO/s400/olho+FINAL+%28jpeg%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5102832643087087234" border="0" /></a><br /></div>saudosista do futurohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14799785309101411411noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31503161.post-78602255348904425252007-08-19T02:17:00.001+01:002007-09-26T20:12:10.408+01:00<embed id="radioblog_player_0" src="http://stat.radioblogclub.com/radio.blog/skins/mini/player.swf" width="180" height="23" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" bgcolor="#F9F9F9" flashvars="id=0&filepath=http://www.radioblogclub.com/listen?u=vMHZuV3bz9ybpRWYS9icm5SZlJnZu0WauFWY/Air%2520-%2520Alone%2520In%2520Kyoto.rbs&cover=1&crossfader=1&replay=1&colors=body:#F9F9F9;border:#BBBBBB;button:#5A5A5A;player_text:#919191;playlist_text:#999999;"></embed><br /><br /><br /><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"><br /></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"><b><span style="font-size:0;"><br /></span></b></p><br /><p class="MsoNormal"></p><br /><p class="MsoNormal"></p><br /><p class="MsoNormal"></p><br /><p class="MsoNormal"></p><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="font-family:courier new;">Os corpos aguados confundem-se<?xml:namespace prefix = o /><o:p></o:p><br />Nas camadas de gente híbrida<o:p></o:p><br />Que percorre o traço das cinzas.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-family:STOMP_DirtyBakersDozen;font-size:36;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></p><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-family:STOMP_DirtyBakersDozen;font-size:36;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></p></div><p style="TEXT-ALIGN: left" align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihaU0Rp8Ni4h5ughyphenhyphenbv5YSq_D45tKOAq3dCCuHgG_3kaqUAlTRZeLJGzD4BhcTFsNVA1fohTPvWpyV255s73DrFEtOFyeZ27oPXPEJEyM9QijHfMyvw5s2jdr7z0ztjcLW0xck/s1600-h/TheKiss_AugusteRodin.jpg"></a></p><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"><br /></div><br /></div><br /><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_ywAFClwB7pY/RsecVb95NgI/AAAAAAAAAL0/065K6XanwZM/s1600-h/TheKiss_AugusteRodin.jpg"></a></p><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihaU0Rp8Ni4h5ughyphenhyphenbv5YSq_D45tKOAq3dCCuHgG_3kaqUAlTRZeLJGzD4BhcTFsNVA1fohTPvWpyV255s73DrFEtOFyeZ27oPXPEJEyM9QijHfMyvw5s2jdr7z0ztjcLW0xck/s1600-h/TheKiss_AugusteRodin.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100722431165281906" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihaU0Rp8Ni4h5ughyphenhyphenbv5YSq_D45tKOAq3dCCuHgG_3kaqUAlTRZeLJGzD4BhcTFsNVA1fohTPvWpyV255s73DrFEtOFyeZ27oPXPEJEyM9QijHfMyvw5s2jdr7z0ztjcLW0xck/s400/TheKiss_AugusteRodin.jpg" border="0" /></a></p><br /><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"></p><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"><br /></span><br /></span><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size:0;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></p><br /><br /><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><br /></p><br /><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:0;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><br /><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: right" align="right"><span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:180%;">por que em cada corpo moram<br /><?xml:namespace prefix = u1 /><u1:p></u1:p>demasiadas vidas em segredo,</span></p><br /><span style="font-size:180%;"></span><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: right" align="right"><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:180%;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><u1:p></u1:p><br /><span style="font-size:180%;"></span><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: left" align="center"><span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:180%;">o pintor resolveu deixa-los<br /><u1:p></u1:p>em aberto. rabiscando-os num<br /><u1:p></u1:p>semi-sono de papoila poeirenta.</span></p><br /><br /><span style="font-size:180%;"></span><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:180%;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><u1:p></u1:p><br /><span style="font-size:180%;"></span><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: right" align="right"><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="font-family:courier new;">ele, o pintor. e eles num<br /><u1:p></u1:p>romper-se pelo outro adentro,<br /><u1:p></u1:p>certos do parentesco de ambos<br /><u1:p></u1:p>com o desencontro. razão<o:p></o:p><br />imprescindível<u1:p></u1:p> na forma de se<o:p></o:p><br />encontrarem entre si.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><br /><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:'STOMP_Sui Generis';font-size:16;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><br /><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: right" align="right"><span style="font-family:';font-size:16;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><br /><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: right" align="right"><span style="font-family:';font-size:16;"><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,176,240)"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><br /><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><span style="font-family:STOMP_Zeroes;font-size:16;"><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,176,240)"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><br /><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><br /><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: right" align="right"><br /></p><br /><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: right" align="right"><br /></p><br /><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: right" align="right"><span style="font-family:'Courier New';font-size:12;"><em><span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;">palavra de saudosista do futuro. em parte trabalhada sobre quadro dos desenhos eróticos do escultor francês auguste rodin, 1840-1917.</span> </em></span><span style="font-family:'Times New Roman','serif';font-size:12;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><br /><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: right" align="right"><br /><span style="font-family:STOMP_Zeroes;font-size:16;"><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,176,240)"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>saudosista do futurohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14799785309101411411noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31503161.post-84682359282655568212007-08-07T13:19:00.000+01:002007-08-07T13:50:31.496+01:00<embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://stat.radioblogclub.com/radio.blog/skins/mini/player.swf" allowscriptaccess="always" bgcolor="#336666" id="radioblog_player_0" flashvars="id=0&filepath=http://www.radioblogclub.com/listen?u=..wLzRmb192cvEGbhxWYyR3LyZmLlVmcm5SZsxWauFmdlxGblNXav1WZkFWb/Cocorosie%2520%2526%2520Antony%2520and%2520the%2520Johnsons%2520-%2520Beautiful%2520Boyz.rbs&cover=1&crossfader=1&replay=1&colors=body:#336666;border:#CBCBCB;button:#DFDFDF;player_text:#E9E9E9;playlist_text:#999999;" height="23" width="180"></embed><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcN0tGDfeMSHdHmc2SvqLeh2jvGSRaBT24AiO6t2E6eEVoaFQ0qvQ9srthrnpeGYSD0Q-SLqNC3DJ1JRQBHQ2JWmcQ0VkWF2bmLQfAnMRxzEhICZuHjrHjn-FsL0qP3Cve_9pR/s1600-h/gland+2.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcN0tGDfeMSHdHmc2SvqLeh2jvGSRaBT24AiO6t2E6eEVoaFQ0qvQ9srthrnpeGYSD0Q-SLqNC3DJ1JRQBHQ2JWmcQ0VkWF2bmLQfAnMRxzEhICZuHjrHjn-FsL0qP3Cve_9pR/s400/gland+2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5095932455741565810" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><span style="font-family:times new roman;">fotoGrafia: Jan Saudek<br /><br /><br /></span></span>saudosista do futurohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14799785309101411411noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31503161.post-27120274661035292892007-07-11T13:54:00.000+01:002007-07-11T14:02:24.622+01:00<embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://stat.radioblogclub.com/radio.blog/skins/mini/player.swf" allowScriptAccess="always" width="180" height="23" bgcolor="#333333" id="radioblog_player_0" FlashVars="id=0&filepath=http://www.radioblogclub.com/listen?u=..wLzRmb192cvc2bsJmLvlGZhJ3Ln9Gbi9WakFmcvE2ZhR3chBHZm9icm5iY1x2YuQGby92d69ma/80%2520-%2520Bjork%2520-%2520Venus%2520As%2520A%2520Boy%2520%2528Live%2520At%2520Jools%2520Holland%2529.rbs&cover=1&crossfader=1&replay=1&colors=body:#333333;border:#777777;button:#F8F8F8;player_text:#EBEBEB;playlist_text:#999999;"></embed><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVxBNxDsGUP0BhTvhPgKj0_bar7int_noqzH-HpsdZ1yu3j4A69EnUBTg-IMBXx1SuWlTu3XHRNe-efQ4yuIGF1CkDET11hvEWK0Y75ocHLn9WeIsbbKsBsEFs_8OZCfqkojYw/s1600-h/v%C3%A9nus.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVxBNxDsGUP0BhTvhPgKj0_bar7int_noqzH-HpsdZ1yu3j4A69EnUBTg-IMBXx1SuWlTu3XHRNe-efQ4yuIGF1CkDET11hvEWK0Y75ocHLn9WeIsbbKsBsEFs_8OZCfqkojYw/s400/v%C3%A9nus.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5085923096630832642" border="0" /></a>saudosista do futurohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14799785309101411411noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31503161.post-27167729322044999942007-06-20T11:47:00.000+01:002007-06-23T02:08:32.482+01:00<embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://stat.radioblogclub.com/radio.blog/skins/mini/player.swf" allowScriptAccess="always" width="180" height="23" bgcolor="#993333" id="radioblog_player_0" FlashVars="id=0&filepath=http://www.radioblogclub.com/listen?u=vMHZuV3bz9yZvxmYvlGZhJ3L0Vmbu0WdoJXahJndlxmL3d3d/Chico%2520Buarque%2520-%2520Essa%2520mo%25E7a%2520ta%2520diferente%2520%255BGuiguide%255D.rbs&cover=1&crossfader=1&replay=1&colors=body:#993333;border:#FFFFFF;button:#858585;player_text:#E7E7E7;playlist_text:#999999;"></embed><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaWYORXYeMKFy-I3Ckg7hd-4ptvTCb2pzkW3nbyBrl-IciUpE5K1j1KspG7tRRBMnASOEpe-8zJ35C4P1I_r-wqgPYPHKd1IBy3b12lHDouLzGzmda7tJ1mLtpJbhTMUyCvkFY/s1600-h/82-07.jpg"></a><br /><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifMbQjgVy1XohE5Kg7h9NUsL0DmvsPz_ltNUFsIeA9G5dz8wtgy-24evfGDD1FqMDgpsu3P0UR9e3LuIp8e7I5FLFrRwT9WM3ME2QFKPg0_aKuALVwaXEj-KQiSLiRPnpmwLwY/s1600-h/história+trágica+com+final+repentino.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5078096830189166434" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifMbQjgVy1XohE5Kg7h9NUsL0DmvsPz_ltNUFsIeA9G5dz8wtgy-24evfGDD1FqMDgpsu3P0UR9e3LuIp8e7I5FLFrRwT9WM3ME2QFKPg0_aKuALVwaXEj-KQiSLiRPnpmwLwY/s400/hist%C3%B3ria+tr%C3%A1gica+com+final+repentino.jpg" border="0" /></a></p><div align="center"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><strong>clica na imagem, </strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><strong>vais perceber melhor.<br /></strong></span><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHjrvr-j7Cmbi4wMPm2KWLK63LdS9PTMPOFdiYbzDsB3hp1OCsC-biwprph3mC36mJBhDlwc7oCzOaUzxQNKzmNzpIuJVEohQDNTFPE23LoAAFyWQXLYte8K7_0N3a5kxqNNhW/s1600-h/história+trágica+com+final+repentino.jpg"></a><div><br /><br /><br /></div><div></div>saudosista do futurohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14799785309101411411noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31503161.post-15727027871848446172007-05-18T20:46:00.002+01:002007-05-18T21:29:22.847+01:00<embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://stat.radioblogclub.com/radio.blog/skins/mini/player.swf" allowscriptaccess="always" bgcolor="#FFFFFF" id="radioblog_player_0" flashvars="id=0&filepath=http%3A%2F%2Fdjemorej.free.fr%2Fradio%2Fsounds%2FKoop%20-%20Tonight%20%28Nicola%20Conte%20New%20Jazz%20Version%29.rbs&colors=body:#FFFFFF;border:#BBBBBB;button:#336666;player_text:#030303;playlist_text:#999999;" height="23" width="180"></embed><br /><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:130%;">hoje<i style=""> futurizo</i> o corpo,<br />e é sem saudade que<br />abro os braços ao que<br />ainda vem mais ao fundo.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p> <div style="text-align: center;"><o:p> </o:p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.cidade.usp.br/blog/wp-content/uploads/galleries/catalogo-de-pipa/abraco_de_corpo.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 230px; height: 230px;" src="http://www.cidade.usp.br/blog/wp-content/uploads/galleries/catalogo-de-pipa/abraco_de_corpo.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br /></p> </div><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" ><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">é a primavera a entrar</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">pelas narinas a dentro,</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">e o corpo a ressacar contacto,</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">numa ressaca quase cega</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">e perturbante.</span></span> <span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">(como em</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">tantas outras primaveras!)</span><br /><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: left;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i31.photobucket.com/albums/c359/luluzinhatrue/flordelisilustrEE.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 296px;" src="http://i31.photobucket.com/albums/c359/luluzinhatrue/flordelisilustrEE.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p><br /><br /><br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.wixel.be/presspix/heart.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 239px; height: 244px;" src="http://www.wixel.be/presspix/heart.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal; text-align: center;"><o:p></o:p><br /></p><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >e da outra ponta, digo:</span><br /></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal; text-align: center; font-weight: bold;"><span style=";font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;" >às vezes apetecia-me ter<br />o coração aberto até às costas.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal; text-align: center; font-weight: bold;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal; text-align: center; font-weight: bold;"><span style=";font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;" ><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"><br /></p>saudosista do futurohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14799785309101411411noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31503161.post-9255141351114125902007-04-27T00:45:00.000+01:002007-05-13T18:38:30.754+01:00<p align="right"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE5uizUa32hkb6ci4ymyR4QtxEom5SLn4sHl90pRQWbeJnjvFg7I1jUIDiN-lmqukAY8OCxzIAUQhFw0KYHrIg2If-sYG9TGqKtCQhZPxdo-Ei6PSBJOmvRONej_hzXM6VXyLO/s1600-h/thinking%2525252Bblog%2525252Baward%25255B1%25255D.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5058554807510822834" style="width: 146px; height: 62px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE5uizUa32hkb6ci4ymyR4QtxEom5SLn4sHl90pRQWbeJnjvFg7I1jUIDiN-lmqukAY8OCxzIAUQhFw0KYHrIg2If-sYG9TGqKtCQhZPxdo-Ei6PSBJOmvRONej_hzXM6VXyLO/s200/thinking%2525252Bblog%2525252Baward%25255B1%25255D.jpg" border="0" height="69" width="154" /></a></p><p align="right"><br /><br /></p><embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://stat.radioblogclub.com/radio.blog/skins/mini/player.swf" allowscriptaccess="always" bgcolor="#330000" id="radioblog_player_0" flashvars="id=0&filepath=http%3A%2F%2Fw4go.free.fr%2Fcham%2FZiq%2Fradiofd%2Fsounds%2FJay-Jay%20Johanson-Milan%2C%20Madrid%2C%20Chicago%2C%20Paris.rbs&colors=body:#330000;border:#006600;button:#336600;player_text:#FFFFFF;playlist_text:#999999;" height="23" width="180"></embed><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>não que costume aderir a estas “causas”,<br />ou ainda que seja comum ser “convidado”,<br />mas a Isabel confrontou-me o Sudorífero,<br />assim como a B. no Arritmias, e o privilégio<br />impeliu-me invariavelmente à escrita.</strong></span><br /><br /><br /><br /><p></p><p align="center"><a href="http://fredericcoulon.typepad.com/silenes/images/merci.jpg"><img style="width: 293px;" alt="" src="http://fredericcoulon.typepad.com/silenes/images/merci.jpg" border="0" height="203" /></a></p><p align="right"><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><strong>o glândula é uma espécie de baú<br />das sensações dos amantes; um espaço<br />às viagens do corpo…mas sempre<br />carregado de símbolos. Uma espécie<br />de informação “criptada”, traduzida<br />na génese apenas pelos intervenientes,<br />ainda que aberta e facilmente (?) transitável,<br />sujeita a ser filmada na visão de quem<br />a absorve. (pelo menos assim é a intenção!)</strong></span> </p><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrus4F8MXd8WBd4ggzn3eN9qdK9Xy1QRg2wAap3TF6jBs7T7C_Hb5LkHxsikywnU3EeBTuzcwERgjtTnPOYlEeLUn9fmlN1U5nsLIrz26ZtAGL7JyqAgjaWtIzh91Rh9a-RtPC/s1600-h/VISCERAL.jpg"></a><br /><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkcn08XyFs-t3z6IuKlopImX9OJStjkjXkx7t6EQX3uv7ABuoSWoOStRUSy-vTiiPo6zWJFL8rWx6RNTvA3jLGzwbUucYAQEP3ZklABYHWd08nNVI5Lx4uHVrqHgsd-ae5eXEI/s1600-h/VISCERAL.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5058556757425975250" style="" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkcn08XyFs-t3z6IuKlopImX9OJStjkjXkx7t6EQX3uv7ABuoSWoOStRUSy-vTiiPo6zWJFL8rWx6RNTvA3jLGzwbUucYAQEP3ZklABYHWd08nNVI5Lx4uHVrqHgsd-ae5eXEI/s320/VISCERAL.jpg" border="0" /></a></p><br /><br /><br /><br /><p style="text-align: center; font-family: verdana;" class="MsoNormal"><strong>a proposta é a de confrontar/homenagear outros.</strong></p><div style="text-align: right;"><br /><br /><o:p></o:p></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /><strong style="font-family: times new roman; font-weight: normal;">e é difícil definir 5 blogs…mas tirando um ou outro</strong><br /><strong style="font-family: times new roman; font-weight: normal;">que já havia sido “embandeirado”, foi os que escolhi.</strong><br /><strong style="font-family: times new roman; font-weight: normal;">nada que não pudesse ser diferente. </strong><strong style="font-family: times new roman; font-weight: normal;">São estes e p(r)onto.</strong></span><br /></div><p class="MsoNormal"><strong></strong></p><p class="MsoNormal" align="left" style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0); font-weight: normal;"><a href="http://inconfidenciasdamariazinha.blogspot.com/"><br /></a></strong></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" align="left" style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0); font-weight: normal;"><a href="http://inconfidenciasdamariazinha.blogspot.com/"><br /></a></strong></span></p><p style="font-weight: bold;font-family:times new roman;" class="MsoNormal" align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0); font-weight: bold; font-family: courier new;"><a href="http://inconfidenciasdamariazinha.blogspot.com/">mariazinha</a></strong><br /><strong></strong><br />é a imagem que salta<br />cada vez mais forte, e a<br />palavra como seta a<br />apontar para todos os sítios.<br />no <a href="http://inconfidenciasdamariazinha.blogspot.com/">MAR ia</a> até ao fundo, e<br />voltava para respirar e<br />submergir novamente.<br /><br /></span></p><p style="font-weight: bold;font-family:times new roman;" class="MsoNormal" align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /><a href="http://malucaresponsavel.blogspot.com/"><strong style="font-weight: bold; font-family: courier new;">MalucaResponsável</strong><br /></a><br />a pavara mais da carne e<br />sem rodeios. o ritual da<br />aventura pela noite das<br />luzes tom vermelho. a insónia<br />ir<a href="http://malucaresponsavel.blogspot.com/">Responsável</a>. a crescer.<br /><br /><strong></strong></span></p><p style="font-weight: bold;font-family:times new roman;" class="MsoNormal" align="right"><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /><strong><a href="http://bookofsorrow.blogspot.com/"><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: courier new;">LitlleBlackBook</span><br /></a><br /></strong><strong></strong>como em tudo o que é estranho,<br />a mudança é inevitável. e o <a href="http://bookofsorrow.blogspot.com/">LitlleBlackBook </a><br />muda e refina-se à passagem do tempo,<br />e é feito de viagens e rupturas.<br />estranha-se menos. entranha-se mais.<br /><br /></span></p><p style="font-weight: bold;font-family:times new roman;" class="MsoNormal" align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /><strong style="font-weight: bold; font-family: courier new;"><a href="http://passarolaquervoar.blogspot.com/">passarola</a></strong><br /><br />o dia. o mundo à volta<br />na peculiariedade da visão<br />de quem <a href="http://passarolaquervoar.blogspot.com/">Quer Voar</a>. um<br />rascunho de vida e da vida dela.<br />o ritual da palavra/imagem.<br /><br /></span></p><p style="font-weight: bold;font-family:times new roman;" class="MsoNormal" align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /><strong style="font-family: courier new; font-weight: bold;"><a href="http://velasardemsempreateaofim.blogspot.com/">AsVelasArdemAtéAoFim</a></strong><br /><br />e aqui as imagens que se criam<br /><a href="http://velasardemsempreateaofim.blogspot.com/">vão ardendo</a>, e os cheiros das velas<br />perduram na memória, e volta-se<br />no incenso que complete o cenário,<br />num outro assalto pelas “coisas” dos sentidos.<br /></span></p><p style="font-family: times new roman; font-weight: bold;"> </p><p style="font-weight: bold;font-family:times new roman;" align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;"><a style="font-family: courier new; font-weight: bold;" href="http://fazendamarmelo.blogspot.com/">Vivis</a><br /></span></p><p style="font-weight: bold;" align="center"><span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;" >a refractada. as imagens<br />quase todas no intervalo<br />imperceptível da palavra.<br />recriar, recriar… e desbravar<br />outras imagens. um universo<br />de <a href="http://fazendamarmelo.blogspot.com/">VIV<span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">ênc</span>I<span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">a</span>S.</a></span></p><br /><p align="center"><br /></p><p style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;font-size:180%;" >desafio/tributo feito.</span><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>saudosista do futurohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14799785309101411411noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31503161.post-38184339653146447252007-04-22T01:41:00.000+01:002007-04-22T03:17:14.331+01:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6Ry5A9RKHFTSjqaKTGdgzA6WIcnzAbTG6cC8vCmUcMekvaaCQDQ0hVgCbVzdJi1pLYDTXyXYVdj5DEWQdCCBW-u67yL-Y0Vijv8Afp5c30g_rS8evy-dGG8HRSfCA6VJNSxTgNQ/s1600-h/Waking_Life_DVD_Cover.jpg"></a><br /><div><a href="http://vidamarela.blogs.sapo.pt/arquivo/saaffffa.bmp"><img style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://vidamarela.blogs.sapo.pt/arquivo/saaffffa.bmp" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /></div><p align="center"><a href="http://www.museuvirtual.com.br/targets/galleries/targets/mvab/targets/arthuromar/targets/ideias/images/luva.gif"><img style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://www.museuvirtual.com.br/targets/galleries/targets/mvab/targets/arthuromar/targets/ideias/images/luva.gif" border="0" /></a></p><div><br /><br /><br /><embed id="radioblog_player_0" src="http://stat.radioblogclub.com/radio.blog/skins/mini/player.swf" width="180" height="23" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" bgcolor="#336699" flashvars="id=0&filepath=http%3A%2F%2Fw4go.free.fr%2Fcham%2FZiq%2Fradiofd%2Fsounds%2FSeu%20Jorge%20-%20Tive%20Razao.rbs&colors=body:#336699;border:#330000;button:#330000;player_text:#330000;playlist_text:#999999;"></embed><br /><br /><br /></div><div><br /><br /></div><div><br /></div><div align="right"><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">encontramo-nos no mesmo quarto<br />transviado e liquido, e confundimos<br />uma outra vez (como tão bem o fazemos!)<br />o cinema e a realidade.</span><br /><br /><a href="http://sulanorte.blogs.sapo.pt/arquivo/Picasso,%20mulher%20ao%20espelho.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 292px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 123px" height="332" alt="" src="http://sulanorte.blogs.sapo.pt/arquivo/Picasso,%20mulher%20ao%20espelho.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /></div><div><br /></div><div align="center"><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;">trazias perguntas. muitas... e latente nelas<br />um prazer mais requintado às reVoltas do futuro.</span><br /></div><div><br /></div><div align="center"></div><div><br /></div><div align="center"><br /><br /><a href="http://www.10emtudo.com.br/artigos/2002/abril/o_fosforo/fosforo_1.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://www.10emtudo.com.br/artigos/2002/abril/o_fosforo/fosforo_1.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><strong>na "perigosidade" de nos sabermos livres,</strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">vamos voando os prazeres da carne sem as<br />confusões do amor,</span> <span style="font-family:verdana;"><strong>renovando esse fogo<br />compulsivo que nos arde um contra o outro.<br /></strong></span><br /><a href="http://www.vitorm.webhs.org/blog/wp-content/images/imagem_fosforo_peopleware.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://www.vitorm.webhs.org/blog/wp-content/images/imagem_fosforo_peopleware.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /></div><div><br /></div><div align="center"><br /><span style="font-size:180%;"><em>ambos (os dois) deitados<br />de "barriga" para cima.</em></span></div><div><br /></div><div align="center">.</div><div><br /></div><div align="center">.</div><div><br /></div><div align="center">.</div><div><br /></div><div align="center">.<br /><br /><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><strong><a href="http://movies2.nytimes.com/gst/movies/trailer.html?v_id=237170">um filme... "<em>waking life</em>"</a></strong></div><div><a href="http://movies2.nytimes.com/gst/movies/trailer.html?v_id=237170">em português.....</a></div><p align="center"><a href="http://movies2.nytimes.com/gst/movies/trailer.html?v_id=237170"><img style="WIDTH: 113px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 120px" height="159" alt="" src="http://www.dvdpt.com/a/acordar_para_a_vida.jpg" border="0" /></a></p><div><br /></div><div><br /><br /><br /><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><a href="http://www.dvdpt.com/a/acordar_para_a_vida.jpg"></a></div>saudosista do futurohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14799785309101411411noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31503161.post-62071198306865881252007-04-03T15:40:00.000+01:002007-04-05T20:09:25.028+01:00<div align="right"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"><strong>antes de nós,<br />um parque da cidade.<br />percorremo-lo na direcção<br />do(s) alto(s) ponto(s) de vigia,<br />e subimo-lo sorrateiros e já num<br />certo incêndio dos corpos.</strong></span> </div><br /><br /><br /><p align="center"><a href="http://hardblog2006.no.sapo.pt/babel_art.gif"><img style="WIDTH: 458px; CURSOR: hand" height="177" alt="" src="http://hardblog2006.no.sapo.pt/babel_art.gif" border="0" /></a></p><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:130%;">é a sensação de ver o mundo à volta<br />sem ser visto. é o sol a entrar pelas<br />largas janelas sobre o corpo de vento,<br />e o chocolate a derreter nas mãos<br />com fome um do outro.</span><br /></span><br /><div align="right"><br /><strong><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;">na inevitabilidade dos corpos enroscados<br />de frio, as formas desenham um outro corpo,<br /></span></strong><strong><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;">e o cinema vem ao imaginário…</span></strong></div><div align="right"><strong><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:130%;">.</span></strong></div><div align="right"><strong><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:130%;">.</span></strong></div><div align="right"><strong><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:130%;">.</span></strong></div><div align="right"><strong></strong></div><br /><a href="http://tn3-1.deviantart.com/fs11/300W/i/2006/222/3/8/Chocolat_by_Cardio_Flytrap.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 357px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 336px" height="328" alt="" src="http://tn3-1.deviantart.com/fs11/300W/i/2006/222/3/8/Chocolat_by_Cardio_Flytrap.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><strong>.</strong><br /><strong>.</strong><br /><strong>.</strong><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">…e é então que, despidos sobre a madeira<br />do chão suspenso, nos enfiamos dentro<br />um do outro, alheados de alguém subir pela<br />mesma escadaria do precipício e partilhar essa<br />intensidade de nos sabermos ali, a baloiçar na<br />contorção dos corpos que são só um corpo,<br />e de um fogo já antigo e refinado de TEMPO.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;">.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;">.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></div><p align="right"><a href="http://uhaweb.hartford.edu/BUGL/RBCs.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://uhaweb.hartford.edu/BUGL/RBCs.jpg" border="0" /></a></p><br /><div align="right"><span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;">por vir, o verão e essa noite <em><strong>futurizada</strong></em></span></div>saudosista do futurohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14799785309101411411noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31503161.post-65768440663543754082007-03-07T17:01:00.000+00:002007-03-11T16:24:26.990+00:00<span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"><strong>Fomos o 6 no 9.</strong></span><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY8lkSJAy48Ie-DfCMVYsOq3inieTJo4Vdzhu5k-WE6tzw7JJ4-HYaiIKwTBIUSPoX7rUsRRlO9bedQbcmnIbfM8uQKn8tN-V5gYbdeQbRK-WEsRVKPdMVfZPZqX-0AfVvI9Yn/s1600-h/666666666699999999999999999.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5039702126628716610" style="CURSOR: hand" height="259" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY8lkSJAy48Ie-DfCMVYsOq3inieTJo4Vdzhu5k-WE6tzw7JJ4-HYaiIKwTBIUSPoX7rUsRRlO9bedQbcmnIbfM8uQKn8tN-V5gYbdeQbRK-WEsRVKPdMVfZPZqX-0AfVvI9Yn/s320/666666666699999999999999999.jpg" width="356" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><div align="right"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"><strong>1 no 3. </strong></span></div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"><strong><div align="center"><br /></strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;">“matemáticas” à parte, </span><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;">são os corpos<br />no incêndio da palavra </span><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;">que o deixou de ser,<br />materializada que foi </span><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;">a matéria que existiu<br />na digitalização dos delírios.</span><br /></div><div align="right"><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:180%;"><strong>your eyes...</strong></span><br /><a href="http://filipa.oitaven.pt/images/olhar_o_mar.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://filipa.oitaven.pt/images/olhar_o_mar.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;"><strong></strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;"><strong>digo:</strong></span> <span style="font-family:arial;font-size:180%;"><strong>os teus lábios...</strong></span><br /><a href="http://bbb.blogs.sapo.pt/arquivo/lips4%20copy.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bbb.blogs.sapo.pt/arquivo/lips4%20copy.jpg" border="0" /></a><a href="http://pwp.netcabo.pt/cris_gp/images/lips01.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 228px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 313px" height="422" alt="" src="http://pwp.netcabo.pt/cris_gp/images/lips01.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">escorrego as pétalas do teu desvio,<br />e tu fumas-me o incenso do corpo<br />que se abre, sentes por dentro e reages<br />em guinchos roucos e quase surdos,<br />como velas que ardem à volta das<br />massagens de água e sais coloridos. </span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:130%;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:130%;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:130%;"></span></div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"><div align="center"><br /></div></span><p align="right"><a href="http://www.ufmg.br/online/arquivos/rosas-%20brigida%20campbell.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://www.ufmg.br/online/arquivos/rosas-%20brigida%20campbell.jpg" border="0" /></a></p><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><br /></div><p align="left"><a href="http://www.estadao.com.br/banco/img/livre/2007/03/1512007030322535715ECLIPSE.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://www.estadao.com.br/banco/img/livre/2007/03/1512007030322535715ECLIPSE.jpg" border="0" /></a></p><div align="center"><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"><strong>dizem que a lua desabou<br />na imperfeição dos dedos,<br />mas não a vimos, e os dedos<br />deslizam perfeitamente o<br />corpo do vinho que nos<br />enrola lentamente, e isso é<br />como tudo... o que se enrola.<br /></div></strong></span><p align="center"><a href="http://i5.photobucket.com/albums/y170/Nimby33/PeterVolanek-Blondeinblue.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 270px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 453px" height="461" alt="" src="http://i5.photobucket.com/albums/y170/Nimby33/PeterVolanek-Blondeinblue.jpg" border="0" /></a></p><p align="left"><a href="http://www.mynewsroom.co.uk/originals/cannabis-joint.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://www.mynewsroom.co.uk/originals/cannabis-joint.jpg" border="0" /></a></p><div align="right"><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;">o ácido das bocas sedentas<br />na exteriorização dos sexos,<br />são voltas em torno de nós próprios,<br />musicadas pelo som</span> <span style="font-size:100%;"><em><strong>yann tiersen</strong></em></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;">dos orgasmos e as consciências de<br />loucura em risadas vincadas da barriga. </span></div><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></div><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><div><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span></div><div></div><div><br /></span></div><a href="http://copulavocabular.blogs.sapo.pt/arquivo/smiles.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://copulavocabular.blogs.sapo.pt/arquivo/smiles.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div></div><div><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">e do que hoje fica, é muito de<br />abr</span><span style="font-family:times new roman;">(aço)</span></span></strong> <span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"><strong>e beijos ancestrais<br />na genuinidade. são as flores<br />que ainda repousam juntas,<br />à espera</strong></span> <span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"><strong>(e sem pressa!)</strong></span> <span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"><strong>da<br />casualidade dos amantes. </strong></span></div><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"><strong><div></div><div></div><div><br /></div></strong></span><p align="right"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimPXRuZ13YVDfoA68SqmvV65x_OMYyyVfqk5UMhP15EJ4AXW9WQj6hblv95PjM88Ov6KrWaY4F4kzu327uo4V39QZ4hlXNJ8UKilWQ3GE08jRaNf4f_UZNpDQfPFyVlIMHX6S5/s1600-h/loverssssssssssssssssssssss.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5039709741605732434" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimPXRuZ13YVDfoA68SqmvV65x_OMYyyVfqk5UMhP15EJ4AXW9WQj6hblv95PjM88Ov6KrWaY4F4kzu327uo4V39QZ4hlXNJ8UKilWQ3GE08jRaNf4f_UZNpDQfPFyVlIMHX6S5/s320/loverssssssssssssssssssssss.jpg" border="0" /></a></p><div align="center"><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>na génese e primordiais,<br /></strong></span><span style="font-family:arial;">Eles,</span></span> <span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"><strong>Eles</strong></span> <span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;"><strong>e mais Eles,</strong></span><br /></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong>que são também um nós<br />mesmo sem o ser</strong></span></span><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:180%;">Mos.</span></div>saudosista do futurohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14799785309101411411noreply@blogger.com7