a rapariga do alfinete

Jeff Koons was born in York, Pennsylvania; as a teenager he revered Salvador Dalí, to the extent of visiting him at the St. Regis Hotel in New York City. Koons attended the School of the Art Institute of Chicago and the Maryland Institute College of Art, and studied painting. After college he worked as a Wall Street commodities broker, whilst establishing himself as an artist. He gained recognition in the 1980s, and subsequently set up a factory-like studio in a SoHo loft on the corner of Houston and Broadway in New York. This had over 30 staff, each assigned to a different aspect of producing his work—in a similar mode to both Andy Warhol's Factory and many Renaissance artists. Puppy 1992 Puppy in Bilbao. During this time, he was commissioned in 1992, to create a piece for an art exhibition in Bad Arolsen, Germany. The result was Puppy, a forty-three foot (12.4 meter) tall topiary sculpture of a West Highland White Terrier puppy executed in a variety of flowers on a steel substruc...

Stran ger Shizuka Yokomizo 1998

Strangers (3) Shizuka Yokomizo 1999 Yokomizo's Strangers (24) shows a great cumplicity between photographer and subject. This series consists of nineteen portraits of single figures photographed through downstairs windows of houses at night. Yokomizo sent letters to the inhabitants of houses into which she could photograph from street level. She asked the strangers to stand in front of their windows at a certain time in the evening with the lights on and the curtains open. The photographs show the people who followed the directions posed in anticipation of being photographed by an unknow photographer. We are looking at the strangers looking at themselves in these photographs, for the windows act as mirrors as they anticipate the moment they will be photographed...the curious self-recognition or misrecognition in the windows.

Olhei para o lugar ocupado pelo meu coração E já lá não estava. Na cratera de fios rasgados Apenas a ausência. Mas espreita, meu amor, a tua mão. Na palma aberta surpreenderás os fios. E o coração, o meu.

...que trouxe o álbum e incendiou o Coliseu dos Recreios, na noite passada. Que espectáculo foi...!!! Aqui, fotografada soberbamente por Robert Mapplethorpe...há muitos muitos anos atrás!

Mona Hatoum Van Gogh's Back Mona Hatoum's Van Gogh's Back makes us jump mentally from the swirls of hair on the man's wet back to the starry skies of van Gogh's swirling paintwork. The enjoyment of such a photograph is based on our shift from registering a photographic image as a three-dimensional scene (something we respond to because of its presentation of a sculptural object or event that we trust once existed in the real world) and that of two-dimensional, graphic representation of the swirls of wet hair that we connect, via van Gogh, to a patterned sky. The interplay of two- and three-dimensional spaces is one of the great pleasures of looking at photographs.

A pillow book is a collection of notebooks or notes which have been collated to show a period of someone or somethings life. in Wikipedia

The Pillow Book is a book of observations and musings recorded by Sei Shōnagon during her time as court lady to Empress Sadako during the 990s and early 1000s in Heian Japan. The book was completed in the year 1002. In it she included lists of all kinds, personal thoughts, interesting events in court, poetry and some opinions on her contemporaries. While it is mostly a personal work, Shōnagon's writing and poetic skill makes it interesting as a work of literature, and it is valuable as an historical document. Part of it was revealed to the Court by accident during Shōnagon's life. The book has been translated into English by Ivan Morris in 1967 and in 2006 by Meredith McKinney.

Um monge disse uma noite aos seus discípulos: - A lua está bela esta noite. Agarrem-na! Os discípulos muniram-se de compridos talos e procuraram fazê-la descer. Mas as coisas não corriam bem. - Subam para o telhado! - ordenou o monge. Nada a fazer. - Agarrem em ganchos! E, desta vez, a lua caiu no poço. Precisaram, então, de um balde para a repescar. O monge levava-a para casa quando um dos discípulos perguntou: - Mestre, que vai fazer com a lua? - Ah, tens razão! É uma questão que eu ainda não tinha colocado. (História tradicional do budismo zen)

Em silêncio descobri essa cidade no mapa a toda a velocidade: gota sombria. Descobri as poeiras que batiam como peixes no sangue. A toda a velocidade, em silêncio, no mapa - como se descobre uma letra de outra cor no meio das folhas, estremecendo nos ulmos, em silêncio. Gota sombria num girassol - essa letra, essa cidade em silêncio, batendo como sangue. Era a minha cidade ao norte do mapa, numa velocidade chamada mundo sombrio. Seus peixes estremeciam como letras no alto das folhas, poeiras de outra cor: girassol que se descobre como uma gota no mundo. Descobri essa cidade, aplainando tábuas lentas como rosas vigiadas pelas letras dos espinhos. Era em silêncio como uma gota de seiva lenta numa tábua aplainada. Descobri que tinha asas como uma pêra que desce. E a essa velocidade voava para mim aquela cidade do mapa. Eu batia como os peixes batendo dentro do sangue - peixes em silêncio, cheios de folhas. Eu escrevia, aplainando na tábua todo o meu silêncio. E a seiva sombria vinha escor...