Ferry from Manhattan

Ota Richter, 1966.

Shooting in the park

After a recent spell of travel, I returned home to Sunset Park, Brooklyn, where I have lived for the past nine years. I began to take photographs of the park, not for the first time, but for the first time in an attentive way. The naturalist John Muir once wrote, “Most people are on the world, not in it.” I went back to the same sections, day after day, the same leaf-littered stretch of lawn, the same work site, the same stands of trees. I went in different weather conditions, in snow and rain and bright sunshine, and I went at different times of day. Shooting roll after roll, I began to accumulate a highly personal composite image of the park.

The seasons turned. The trees changed radically or not at all. At a time when politics made the flow of time feel hectic, shooting in the park slowed me down, and using film slowed me down further.

Teju Cole, The Image of Time.

Domingo no mundo (11)

Henri Caro-Delvaille, Ladies taking tea, 1902.

Popular

Os que mais se esforçam [...] são cedo ou tarde acusados de elitismo — conceito nem sempre claro, utilizado às vezes para manter a aceitação da ignorância.

Álvaro Siza, 01 Textos.

Lola

Her name was Eudocia Tomas Pulido. We called her Lola. She was 4 foot 11, with mocha-brown skin and almond eyes that I can still see looking into mine—my first memory. She was 18 years old when my grandfather gave her to my mother as a gift, and when my family moved to the United States, we brought her with us. No other word but slave encompassed the life she lived.

Uma história incrível sobre a escravidão de mulheres por mulheres, na Atlantic.

Senhora posta ao fesco

Eugen Schmidt-Herboth, Verão em Prerow, 1913.

Mothers

Everyone has a mother somewhere. There is a mother at dinner with us. She is a small woman with eyeglass lenses so thick they seem black when she turns her head away. Then, the mother of the hostess telephones as we are eating. This causes the hostess to be away from the table longer than one would expect. This mother may possibly be in New York. The mother of a guest is mentioned in the conversation: this mother is in Oregon, a state few of us know anything about, though it has happened before that a relative lived there.  

A choreographer is referred to afterwards, in the car. He is spending the night in town, on his way, in fact, to see his mother, again in another state. Mothers, when they are guests at dinner, eat well, like children, but seem absent. It is often the case that they cannot follow what we are doing or saying. It is often the case, also, that they enter the conversation only when it turns on your youth; or they accommodate where accommodation is not wanted; smile and are misunderstood. And yet mothers are always seen, always talked to, even if only on holidays. They have suffered for our sakes, and most often in a place where we could not see them.

Lydia Davis, The Collected Stories of Lydia Davis, 2009 

Forte do Bocejo

Cuando ya no tengo miedo, me aburro.

Ionesco, Diario.

Vilma a ler no sofá

T. F. Šimon, 1912.

A Double Negative

At a certain point in her life, she realizes it is not so much that she wants to have a child as that she does not want not to have a child, or not to have had a child.

Lydia Davis, The Collected Stories of Lydia Davis, 2009

Claro Enigma

O paradigma máximo para mim seria: a calma no seio da paixão.

Vinicius entrevistado por Clarice; excerto retirado daqui.

Domingo no mundo (10)

Bob Willoughby, Montgomery Clift & Elizabeth Taylor  on the set of Raintree County, 1956.