How Japan’s modern master revives our taste for everyday life

I grew up on a steady diet of movies that made everyday life seem less and less interesting. But along the way, I encountered films that offered a different sensibility. I found that when I left the cinema after watching these films, everyday life didn’t seem more dreary or bland, but more meaningful and savoury. In a way, these films helped restore my taste for the everyday.

ler o resto do ensaio aqui

A Journey Through the Moonlight

In sleep when an old man's body is no longer aware of its boundaries, and lies flattened by gravity like a mere of wax in its bed... It drips down to the floor and moves there like a tear down a cheek... Under the back door into the silver meadow, like a pool of sperm, frosty under the moon, as if in his first nature, boneless and absurd.

The moon lifts him up into its white field, a cloud shaped like an old man, porous with stars.

He floats through high dark branches, a corpse tangled in a tree on a river.


by Russell Edson

O anjo de pedra

Tinha os olhos abertos mas não via.
O corpo todo era a saudade
de alguém que o modelara e não sabia
que o tocara de maio e claridade.

Parava o seu gesto onde pára tudo:
no limiar das coisas por saber
- e ficara surdo e cego e mudo
para que tudo fosse grave no seu ser.


As mãos e os frutos, Eugénio de Andrade


* mais uma vez, obrigada Ó

art is making

To the question “Is cinema an art?” my answer is, “What does it matter?” You can make films or you can cultivate a garden. Both have as much claim to be called art as a poem by Verlaine or a painting by Delacroix.
If your film or your garden is a good one it means that as a practitioner of cinema or gardening you are entitled to consider yourself an artist. The pastry-cook who makes a good cake is an artist. The ploughman with an old-fashioned plough creates a work of art when he ploughs a furrow. Art is not a calling in itself but the way in which one exercises a calling, and also the way in which one performs any human activity. I will give you my definition of art: art is “making.” The art of poetry is the art of making poetry. The art of love is the art of making love.

by Jean Renoir (via)

dos sinais?

não sei o que fiz ao meu MusicBee que ele quer à força toda que eu oiça a
Find It Of Use dos Radiation City.
bem posso tentar reproduzir outra música qualquer que ele pimbas! toca sempre a mesma.

então está bem. I’ll find it of use.

on silence

It must be immense, this silence, in which sounds and movements have room, and if one thinks that along with all this the presence of the distant sea also resounds, perhaps as the innermost note in this prehistoric harmony, then one can only wish that you are trustingly and patiently letting the magnificent solitude work upon you, this solitude which can no longer be erased from your life; which, in everything that is in store for you to experience and to do, will act an anonymous influence, continuously and gently decisive, rather as the blood of our ancestors incessantly moves in us and combines with our own to form the unique, unrepeatable being that we are at every turning of our life.


Letters To A Young Poet, Rainer Maria Rilke