a rapariga do alfinete

A minha auto-prenda de Natal foi uma edição linda, de 1958, das Publicações Europa-América, de 'A Náusea', de Jean-Paul Sartre. Em segunda mão. Mas, melhor ainda do que o prazer de o folhear e cheirar, foi encontrar um bilhete antigo dos autocarros a marcar uma página. Em segunda mão também. Não sei do que gostei mais: se do livro, se do bilhete que encontrei. Sei que estes pequenos nadas e ainda menores acasos são o que me faz feliz, no dia-a-dia.

Sou uma lástima, no que toca a cuidar de plantas: ora é água a mais, ora a menos, ora é luz a mais, ora a menos. Criaturinhas difíceis as plantas...mas algumas parecem tentar resistir, apesar dos meus cuidados. A primeira foi uma prenda do meu sobrinho e afilhado Afonso há 3 ou 4 Domingos de Ramos atrás e todos os anos, quando as flores mirram, eu penso 'É desta que se finou de vez!'. Mas não: ano após ano, insiste em renascer e reflorir. Faz-me sorrir todos os anos. O vaso amarelo na janela da cozinha foi uma prenda da Suzete, que me assegurou que este era difícil de assassinar...mesmo tratando-se de mim! Certo é que chegou com duas folhinhas e ó para ele tão viçoso! O último foi uma compra que a minha irmã Marta me impingiu - e bem! -, depois de ter feito uma pesquisa online subordinada ao tema 'as plantas mais difíceis de matar' e ter descoberto que esta se encontrava no elenco. Qualquer dia, ainda começo a acreditar na ressocialização de gente que mata

[en] Helping others is a good thing, no matter what, where or when. But it really makes me angry when people talk so much about charity and caring about others in suffering, specially on Christmas time, and they don't don't even realise that help should be starting in your own home to your - supposedly - loved ones, some of whom might be in need, or your next door neighbour or your friend at work. It makes me even more sad that most people don't even acknowledge the need in some of their nearest ones - it's not on the news, neither on Facebook pages, I know. My grandmother used to say 'Charity starts at your own home' and she was absolutely right. Sometimes, it is about money. Some other times, it's not. It's about attention, it's about being sad, it's about losing someone they care about. And it only takes one careful look to know. Why don't we start there...? [pt] Ajudar é sempre uma coisa boa, louvável. Seja onde for e qu

Praça dos Poveiros, à noite.

The blanket I crocheted for baby Indira. It was crocheted a little bit around the world: Qatar, Japan, Belgium, France, England, Wales...may her travels through life be as fun as this blanket's were.

'Under the moon of love' by Emma Sian Pritchard

The flat in London has a new handmade blue yarn rug. Warm, because winter has come. A casa em Londres tem um novo tapete azul, feito por mim, em lã. Bom para o inverno.

Não há nada como preparar-me para ir trabalhar de manhã e descobrir que o meu sobrinho mais novo, enquanto eu jantava ontem em casa dos meus pais, decidiu que eu precisava de um dos dois copos de plástico com que andava a brincar. Vai daí, toca de o colocar na minha carteira, onde fui encontrá-lo logo de manhãzinha! Fez-me sorrir, foi o que foi. There's nothing like waking up in the morning and finding a plastic blueish/greenish cup in your handbag. And then realising that, during last night's dinner at my parents' house, my younger nephew just decided I needed one of his cups. It made me smile! ta

Sunday evening I didn't have to struggle. It was such a magnificent pleasure to listen to Wim Mertens once again! Some parts of it made me want to dance, some parts of it moved me almost to tears. So beautiful! Wim Mert

E, com ele, a chuva e a época de fazer marmelada e geleia. Mas é preciso esperar pelo estado metereológico correcto. Para entrar no espírito. Estou contentita. É tempo!

It is always great arriving at home in London and realising the key person made the same key twice, instead of making two different ones. And, obviously, the person with another set of keys does not answer the mobile phone, nor replies my e-mails and FB messages. Can I go back home, please...? In Porto, yes.

Parafernália. Ou de como as estruturas sempre me fascinaram. E os portos. De mar. De terra. De ar. tag

"Art doesn't transform. It just plain forms."   Roy Lichtenstein (In the Car, 1963, Oil and magna on canvas)

Roubei as fotografias ao JP.

Yayoi Kusama took over Philip Johnson's glass house in New Canaan, Connecticut.

First time crossing the Channel on a train. Exciting! ta

Boarding. At last. Last night I didn't mention how much I hate packing, as you might have noticed. But it was awful as packing for four weeks can be. Just didn't have a second to share how awful it was. Brussels, Doha, Tokyo, a lot of Japan, Wales and London. But, first, a few days in London - as you might notice, Porto weather looks no different from London! See you all in a couple of hours! Happy Summer everyone!

'Lighthouse on the Mount Yoshinoyama, Japan, in April' by Anna Horvath 

Melancholy. Not sure where it comes from tonight. Sometimes you just need silence. And remembering not all moments in our lifes must be filled with laughter. tag

German exam was awful, awful, awful. Car is not working properly and needs to be fixed. Work load is quite heavy these days. The only remedy is, as David Bowie said, put on my red shoes...and dance! tag

So so so so good...! I'm savouring each story: it should have no ending. Because I'll be sad when I get there! t

She softly wondered where she'd been If someone whispered in her ear You are, you are, you are in me Don't go away, our time is near Not crystal cuttouts on a string You are, you are, you are in me Decisions shape who she might be A heartfelt promise then she'll hear You are, you are, you are in me Don't go away, our time is near Not crystal cuttouts on a string You are, you are, you are in me How far are we falling? How far are we falling? How far are we falling? How far are we falling? How far are we falling? How far are we falling? Now distance took my love away I long through song to hear her sing You are, you are, you are in me Don't go away, our time is near No heart felt promises to fear You are, you are, you are in me My ne