Saturday 30 June 2007

Requiem for the real world

There are some days when it feels like floating in outer space, apart from the everyday life. It seems as if you were alien to people and buildings, and the rat race for surviving is paralleled to a distant videogame. Actually it can be a glimpse of the real world, a sort of Matrix effect. When you try to say something an ancient song comes instead. Could be terrifying but you just sway into the rhythm and let it lead you. All is there and at the same time only your mind is real.

Some days can be harder. They can take those feelings away and leave you a ticket.

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Wednesday 20 June 2007

An afternoon in the museum

Visiting the exhibition on Charles Darwin’s life and work can inspire vocations and strengthen confidence in observation and science. But most of all it enchants anyone by unfolding the wide variety of forms of life on Earth. Only a few are pictured there, it is true. Sufficient to draw lines to whatever direction you might think.

Among samples of animals and plants, living iguanas and turtles, facsimile edition of his books and a reproduction of his studio in Down House, the thing that captured my attention in a vivid way was a sequence of slides of the ‘sandwalk’ Darwin created in his park. He used to walk there everyday while thinking of his theories. It is awesome to contemplate the paths over which the scientist matured his findings and insights. More than ever the sandwalk shows how walking can be a way of reflection.

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photo: Museum of Art of São Paulo (Masp), by Ricardo Imaeda

Monday 11 June 2007

Convergent

:><:

Different settings and covers but people seem similar
The aims are near, searches coincide
Whatever they pose the inner side denies
A possible pair, a constant match
Stands as a meeting of minds

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Monday 4 June 2007

Along the same line



It is getting pretty cold in São Paulo. This chilling autumn nearly convinces me there’s a way out. Not to an airport or some, but an inner path. Like a solitary tree standing among industrial artifacts. When I look at one of them I sympathize. I feel as if there were a bond between us, in spite of the number of wounds, the carelessness of thousands, the loss.

Listening to ‘Why does my heart feel so bad?’ by Moby. Cold winds seem to tear me to tiny pieces. Days turn quickly, spinning wheels.

Chlorophyll and beauty, she is still there. Still to remind me the possibility of escape in all weathers.

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photo: São Paulo city centre, by Ricardo Imaeda