tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-346918932024-03-13T06:55:16.949+00:00my everyday drawingUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger17125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34691893.post-60300464173539223682007-03-17T04:45:00.000+00:002008-12-09T09:54:39.912+00:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGSLoGz39cANtP9fANJCyg213eS_aSu1rem0xoQ_gd0lIzZgak5kGx9ZM-TauCKe_DMtvsnvH0Y1D-IW_x9GWyURMISPSF2JaLDqnSztZwpZ5d1xS7-0G8OwOyxEAsVFQ2tU_mTg/s1600-h/AlmedinaAgostO0051.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGSLoGz39cANtP9fANJCyg213eS_aSu1rem0xoQ_gd0lIzZgak5kGx9ZM-TauCKe_DMtvsnvH0Y1D-IW_x9GWyURMISPSF2JaLDqnSztZwpZ5d1xS7-0G8OwOyxEAsVFQ2tU_mTg/s400/AlmedinaAgostO0051.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5042750107832866850" border="0" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34691893.post-14063828367827064232007-01-31T03:58:00.002+00:002008-12-09T09:54:40.071+00:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4QCQ6yT9_k_NJGgClYXB85prTGNExfqAQ5mcGIePZGRPUQr3wtSZhAGSQd158NTzUXH8gEdj3PhxDgJJqAaCAqQcVnTIxYY2YmmtqFFsf1yYrVrZvwzKq1kiUH58QtifM7O08Rg/s1600-h/5casadogon%C3%A7alo2510006.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4QCQ6yT9_k_NJGgClYXB85prTGNExfqAQ5mcGIePZGRPUQr3wtSZhAGSQd158NTzUXH8gEdj3PhxDgJJqAaCAqQcVnTIxYY2YmmtqFFsf1yYrVrZvwzKq1kiUH58QtifM7O08Rg/s400/5casadogon%C3%A7alo2510006.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5026039277748162930" border="0" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34691893.post-76924389612404458792007-01-31T03:58:00.001+00:002008-12-09T09:54:40.202+00:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBZ8bAy3RcQ5_7PV9pidK4dSffyugZjgR-mgS2F5iQ8iKo_si71f9xjs-MxqSmhppjjqeOFkHg3g4BIWQZXfO7daRUozJYe1UNn1WjX9WMuOnczjV98VaRokCU0Fyhip3-nRjlvw/s1600-h/4casadogon%C3%A7alo2010006.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBZ8bAy3RcQ5_7PV9pidK4dSffyugZjgR-mgS2F5iQ8iKo_si71f9xjs-MxqSmhppjjqeOFkHg3g4BIWQZXfO7daRUozJYe1UNn1WjX9WMuOnczjV98VaRokCU0Fyhip3-nRjlvw/s400/4casadogon%C3%A7alo2010006.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5026039114539405666" border="0" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34691893.post-56129283195820297852007-01-31T03:56:00.000+00:002008-12-09T09:54:40.500+00:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw7pcc0_xyV9-auKh-YmqEn2iVvWwytMG7HoAENG4QQ3XtFXG0Lw3cSnkhX5nsT5y0kxpXnc-VTPROL21pobb3nbnO7NyiO_-E6lTUe49KVgg5ahTsNEV4lAGxUasIh-hVvxLCHw/s1600-h/3casadogon%C3%A7alo2010006.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw7pcc0_xyV9-auKh-YmqEn2iVvWwytMG7HoAENG4QQ3XtFXG0Lw3cSnkhX5nsT5y0kxpXnc-VTPROL21pobb3nbnO7NyiO_-E6lTUe49KVgg5ahTsNEV4lAGxUasIh-hVvxLCHw/s400/3casadogon%C3%A7alo2010006.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5026038843956466002" border="0" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34691893.post-1161487948880230132006-10-22T04:31:00.000+01:002006-10-22T04:32:28.880+01:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3059/3827/1600/2casadogon%3F%3Falo2010006.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3059/3827/320/2casadogon%3F%3Falo2010006.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br />A linguagem dos acidentes eram recordações de velocidade;<br /> depois dos outros, restava-mos nós,<br /> um por um fomos deixando o grande espaço azul para trás,<br /> alguém permanente, omnipresente, os outros transparentes.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34691893.post-1161487749095027222006-10-22T04:26:00.000+01:002006-10-22T04:29:09.103+01:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3059/3827/1600/corteingle1810006.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3059/3827/320/corteingle1810006.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Ficamos ali a olhar um para o outro,<br /> depois do cinema as palavras são sempre falsas,<br /> cinematográficas;<br />desencontrámo-nos na dança das palavras,<br />dois corpos nus em harmonia com a luz…<br />Talvez o beloUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34691893.post-1161486749341419892006-10-22T04:11:00.000+01:002006-10-22T04:12:29.343+01:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3059/3827/1600/casadogon%3F%3Falo910006.0.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3059/3827/320/casadogon%3F%3Falo910006.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />Parecia que o movimento linear da sala se igualava com o burburinho da cozinha, a televisão estava desligada, as despedidas eram permanentes…Como se voltasse-mos a ver no dia seguinte…Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34691893.post-1161486456794601242006-10-22T04:06:00.000+01:002006-10-22T04:07:36.796+01:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3059/3827/1600/padeira22509006.0.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3059/3827/320/padeira22509006.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />Um quadrado geométrico em redor do espaço quadriculado, olhos congelados, uma outra pessoa…Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34691893.post-1161486379745068342006-10-22T04:04:00.000+01:002006-10-22T04:06:19.746+01:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3059/3827/1600/padeira2509006.0.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3059/3827/320/padeira2509006.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Eu sei, tu sabes, ela sabe, nós sabemos, vós sabeis, eles sabem…Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34691893.post-1161486272384917812006-10-22T04:01:00.000+01:002006-10-22T04:04:32.386+01:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3059/3827/1600/forno2409006.0.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3059/3827/320/forno2409006.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"> Eu ainda sabia que a união,era de facto um conjunto com a luz que a palmeira deixava trespassar; ele olhava permanentemente para ela sem que fosse correspondido,<br /></div>gestos melosos da linguagem corporalUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34691893.post-1159071622480566252006-09-24T05:18:00.000+01:002006-09-24T05:20:22.480+01:00<a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3059/3827/1600/2casa2209006.jpg"><img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3059/3827/400/2casa2209006.jpg" border="0" /></a> As duas mesmas pessoas, do lado da outra…Conhecidos, amigos, conhecedores do mesmo espaço em mutação…Outros três ficavam na parte de trás, desaparecidos no desenho…Pequenos pedaços de auto-estrada.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34691893.post-1159071491472018992006-09-24T05:16:00.000+01:002006-09-24T05:18:11.473+01:00<a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3059/3827/1600/casa2209006.0.jpg"><img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3059/3827/400/casa2209006.0.jpg" border="0" /></a> Parecia que o movimento linear da sala se igualava com o burburinho da cozinha, a televisão estava desligada, as despedidas eram permanentes…Como se voltasse-mos a ver no dia seguinte…Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34691893.post-1159071209524672732006-09-24T05:11:00.000+01:002006-09-24T05:13:29.523+01:00<a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3059/3827/1600/bioverde2109006.3.jpg"><img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3059/3827/400/bioverde2109006.jpg" border="0" /></a> Somos todas estas pessoas que saltam de espaço em espaço…Paro como se parasse por momentos… O meu desenho conclui que não sou eu que faço conclusões, são imagens periódicas dos meus olhos cegos.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34691893.post-1158848224230018322006-09-21T15:09:00.000+01:002006-09-21T15:17:04.233+01:00<a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3059/3827/1600/baga2009006.0.jpg"><img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3059/3827/320/baga2009006.0.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /> Por vezes as vontades de concluir o traço, emaranhavam-se nas precipitações das conclusões. Conheço todas estas pessoas que me são totalmente estranhas, o vapor e o fumo atlético confundiam o café alienígena com o sentimento comum.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34691893.post-1158847759525526162006-09-21T14:57:00.000+01:002006-09-21T15:09:19.546+01:00<a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3059/3827/1600/2baga2009006.jpg"><img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3059/3827/320/2baga2009006.jpg" border="0" /></a> Talvez fosse o princípio do café ou os meus amigos extraterrestres, mas o aroma do dia a dia continuava imperturbável no mesmo espaço apocalíptico daquelas mesas incoloresUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34691893.post-1158715904852195432006-09-20T02:31:00.000+01:002006-09-20T02:31:44.853+01:00Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34691893.post-1158714822266833052006-09-20T02:07:00.000+01:002006-09-20T02:28:44.703+01:00<div align="justify"><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3059/3827/1600/baga1909006.jpg"><img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3059/3827/320/baga1909006.jpg" border="0" /></a> Ainda não sei se era ontem ou hoje no Café, estavam dois humanos sentados, encostados enquanto as ondas do café poluíam o clima em aromas de contestação, penso que não havia mais ninguém para alem da conversa sumptuosa que os dois ser exprimiam… </div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0