Be Thankful...

Graphic Artwork based on the movie Birdman of Alcatraz

Also would like to thank LG for the inspiration and great words.

Thank´s KID ! ;)

Don´t forget to double click to enlarge.

Because I turned away and didn´t watch them go...

 

Ending quote from Never Cry Wolf

A couple of movies with animals...

Just in case you are wondering about watching one or a couple of good movies over the weekend and you are having trouble finding a good movie title that interests you, or if the movies currently on cinema don´t seem appealing enough for you to spent money on a movie ticket,then I have a few proposals of my own that may (or may not) be of you interest.


But first let me ask you a question_Do you like movies with animals on it ?_If your answer is yes then you will have no problem with the titles that I´m about to give you,and if the answer is no that maybe because (I´m only guessing) you may find that movies with animals are a dumb waste of time,or they are only fit for little children or even only fit for animal lovers that saw Lassie over 500 times and still cry every time they see it. You probably like a movie with a good script that tells a great story and is good enough for you to watch it twice or maybe three times,_If this is the case never fear because these particular movies with animals that i am about to show you are also great stories with some of the best scripts that i´ve ever seen.

The first one and without following any particular order of preference is an old classic called Birdman of Alcatraz (1962) starring Burt Lancaster which plays the part of a famous inmate named Robert Stroud who was imprisoned as a young Man for committing a murder. After that he is sentenced to life in prison for killing a prison guard and sentenced to solitary confinement for the rest of is life.

That could be the end of the story all by itself, or you could watch a quick version from the life of a man trapped behind bars without even the smallest shred of humanity left to testify that he was once a man and not having those small luxuries that we take for granted every day and are a part of life. But that wouldn´t be much of a movie except if you like sick emotions. Sometimes those who are deprived from everything can see great wonder and beauty in the smallest of things, and that is what this movie is all about.

Just to give you a short taste of the story,_ one day Stroud who is passing away in the exercise yard like a caged animal on a stormy night is surprised by a tree twig that falls on the yard. On it a small infant sparrow is chirping away in distress and Stroud driven by a strange impulse keeps the little bird for himself, an isolated act which will originate in a great personal change not only for him but also for life in prison itself. The movie as an added flavour to it since it is based on a real story although over the years and even today there are those who claim that the movie is some sort of original scam to sanctify the hardcore incorrigible and brutal murderer Stroud really was but to those sort of critics I ask them to look at the movie from the mere cinematographic aspect of the story since so much is lost due to categorizing things as good or bad, Stroud was no angel that´s for sure, but lived a life interesting enough to make a spectacular movie from it with much less than those who claim to be pauper have.

This is a movie not only for animal or bird lovers but also for those who believe in redemption or simply like a good story.

Please, if you are one of those persons who like to have a great cinematic experience and believes it can only be provided by a twenty first century digital experience filled with hypnotic colors,3D glasses and an orgy of special effects think again. Yes, Birdman of Alcatraz is an old movie a real classic filmed in black and white but has some of the greatest images and photography that i´ve seen on screen accompanied by a soundtrack that is most fitting to the development of the story.

Indeed a true classic that required a fitting remake of it´s genre for a new century that is so much in need of redemption and beauty.

Also based on a true story is Never Cry Wolf (1983),now I feel a real need not to jump ahead and tell you what a great movie this is (which is true) without giving you a small personal view of he movie itself. When I first heard that Disney studios produced this movie I felt that unease feeling of suspicion towards it since I wasn´t in the mood to watch a cute,fluffy, parent authorized perspective of the wolf depicted for an eight year old point of view. I certainly was and am sick of watching movies based on wolves filled with blood shed and the brutal attack of wild beasts on scout teenagers who wandered too far into the wild, or another sad and stupid version of werewolves with a never ending thirst for blood and human guts. I wanted to see a truthful story that showed this magnificent animal for what it is and not a twisted version from the nightmarish or embellishing human mind think of what a wolf is supposed to be, since man is never at ease with the magnificent and truthful beauty of nature. So it was a bit reluctant that I saw Never Cry Wolf for the first time and...to my surprise, I was amazed. I mean there is so much beauty in this movie that it would take much time for me to depict all of it and give you a truthful personal insight of what the movie is all about. On it you will find great beauty of many genres and also a great music score (one of the best) by Mark Isham which composed a soundtrack so powerful and filled with beauty that it falls under the category of music one can hear on a daily basis. But about the movie itself, the story is a narrative of a biologist named Tyler played by Charles Martin Smith who travels to the Arctic to undergo a study of why the population of caribou is decreasing in numbers and if the Arctic Wolves have anything to do about the decreasing count of caribous herds. Alone in a strange and isolated land inhospitable and far from every comfort of the modern world he fears what may be lurking in the dark and is awaken from sleep from his own demons who take the shape of the wolf with whom he is not yet familiarized with. Reality itself will bring many pleasant surprises to the story as well as some sad ones when Lavery finally comes face to face with this strange and mysthical creature who in the end resembles Man in so many ways.


There are quite a few movies that I could recommend to you that depict the interaction between Man and animals but for now I believe that these two titles will be more than enough for the weekend.

I hope you enjoy.

Meu Amor,Meu Amor...

Meu Amor, Meu Amor, Meu Limão de Amargura

 Meu corpo em movimento

Minha voz à procura

Do seu próprio lamento

Meu limão de amargura

Meu punhal a crescer;

Nós parámos o tempo

Não sabemos morrer

E nascemos nascemos

Do nosso entristecer.

Meu amor meu amor

Meu pássaro cinzento

A chorar a lonjura

Do nosso afastamento.

Meu amor meu amor

Meu nó de sofrimento

Minha mó de ternura

Minha nau de tormento:

Este mar não tem cura

Este céu não tem ar

Nós parámos o vento

Não sabemos nadar

E morremos morremos

Devagar devagar

My body in motion

My voice to demand

For it´s own regret

My bitter lemon

My dagger in growth;

We stopped time

We do not know how to die

And we were born born

From our sorrow.

My love my love

My gray bird

The cry in the distance

Of our remoteness.

My love my love

My knot of sorrow

My millstone of tenderness

My ship of torment:

This sea is no cure

This heaven has no air

We stopped the wind

We cannot swim

And we die we die

Slowly slowly

Amália Rodrigues -Fado Menor

Tejo

Perhaps the best known Portuguese river in the world, certainly not the most beautiful but most certainly the best well knowned. His name has often been included in the lyrics of Fado songs, and during various times influenced an whole genre of artists who sought on it for inspiration. Songs, musical compositions, poems, sonnets, drawings, paintings, sculptures and so forth, always named Tejo as the main title of an infinity of artworks and also the word Tejo as also been used in a lighter fashion as a support to give a sense of rhythm and rhyme to some cheaper sort of poetry. In a more subtle fashion, there were a few Artists without even mentioning the name of this river once, somehow drew from it every kind of "hidden truth". They could decipher it and brought ashore the most beautiful works ever written in the Portuguese language as the fishermen of yore brought to the fore the heavy nets of fish caught in the Tejo at a time when words like water pollution simply did not exist.
_Nevertheless I still love this river because I find on it a kind of romance and magic that can only compare to the sanctity of the Ganges river whose banks are full of an overwhelming number of men and women who every day bathe on it and meet rituals but also cremate the bodies and throw the ashes of their loved ones upon it´s waters, or the best books by Mark Twain when he describes in detail all the magnificence of the Mississippi River and whose influence gave birth to Tom Sawyer and Hucleberry Finn. Also near Tejo I often seek answers to those questions that haunt me and that neither the wisest of men know how to respond, but this RIVER OF MINE, millennial old teacher who saw birth and death of an infinite number of people most times enlightens my mind with that whispered sound of a wave that sweetly crashes on the beach and that is a mixture of all the most beautiful sonnets, poems, songs and Fado songs ever written._And to you that reads these words, I can also guarantee that if you close your eyes and you yield to it´s presence, this river, the Tejo, and your hears will also listen to the most beautiful songs they have ever listened to...

Talvez seja o rio Português mais conhecido no mundo,não é certamente o mais belo mas é sem dúvida o mais conhecido. O seu nome têm sido muitas vezes incluido nas letras dos Fados , e durante diversas épocas influenciou todo o género de artistas que nele procuraram inspiração.Geraram-se canções, composições musicais, poemas,sonetos,desenhos, pinturas,esculturas e por aí fora, sempre com o nome Tejo incluido como título principal de qualquer obra ou apenas usado como suporte para dar cadência e sentido a uma rima ou poesia mais barata. Mais subtilmente existiram aqueles artistas que sem sequer mencionarem o nome deste rio uma única vez souberam extrair toda uma espécie de "verdade velada" do mesmo.Souberam como que decifrá-lo e trouxeram ao de cima as mais belas obras alguma vez escritas na língua Portuguesa, tal como os pescadores de outrora traziam ao de cima as redes pesadas de peixe apanhado no Tejo numa época em que a palavras como poluição marítima pura e simplesmente não existiam.

Continuo apesar disso a amar este meu rio pois encontro nele toda uma espécie de romantismo e magia que apenas posso comparar á santidade de um rio Ganges cujas margens estão sempre cheias de um número avassalador de Homens e Mulheres que todos os dias nele se banham e cumprem rituais mas também cremam os corpos e deitam as cinzas dos seus entes queridos ás águas, ou ao melhor dos livros de Mark Twain quando descreve com pormenor toda a magnificência do rio Mississippi e cuja influência deu à luz um Tom Sawyer e um Hucleberry Finn. Também neste meu rio procuro muitas vezes respostas áquelas perguntas que me atormentam e que nem o mais sábio dos Homens sabe dar uma resposta, mas este meu rio, velho professor milenário que viu nascer e morrer um número infiito de gentes ao longo do tempo ilumina sempre a minha mente com aquele doce sussurro de onda que morre na praia e que é uma mistura de todos os mais belos sonetos,poemas,canções e fados alguma vez escritos._E a ti que lês estas palavras também te posso garantir que se fechares os olhos e te renderes à sua presença também ele, o rio, o Tejo, cantar-te-á as mais belas canções alguma vez escutadas pelos teus ouvidos...

Carlos Paredes: Em Memória De Uma Camponesa Assassinada

One "CLICK" a Day..., Old wind mill / Velho Moinho Abandonado

Moinho de vento abandonado

Velho decrépito desonrado

Coberto de musgo e pó

Testemunho triste do tempo

Do que é ser velho e estar só.

Coberta de teias de aranha

Esta pedra gasta que arranha

É a mó que moia o trigo

Assemelha-se ao velho amigo

Que tombou na batalha

E esquecido da maralha

Jaz esquecido no pó.

E as Pás que não giram mais

Outrora afuniladas p´lo vento

Quebradas jazem sozinhas

Como aves abatidas

Como tristes andorinhas

Asas que esperam p´lo vento.

Mas o vento ainda passa

Veloz e forte como outrora

Pois não crê que o semblante

Daquele velho gigante

Tenha sido derrotado.

Mas ao não conseguir acordar

O seu amigo de outrora

Passa frio intenso e louco

Forte cortante e rouco

E ao não vê-lo acordar

Parte gritando e chora.

Diogo Carvalho © Copyright.

Cultura para a elite ? / Culture for the elite ?

Já vem de longe aquela frase feita que diz : "A Cultura é um luxo exclusivo da elite" ...relativamente a esta frase permitam-me fazer o seguinte comentário,aqui vai - ISTO É MENTIRA !!!, das muitas mentiras que tem sido contadas à humanidade esta é por certo uma das mais vis,cruéis, cínicas e hipócritas de sempre.Quem o afirma também deve acreditar de certeza que o ensino é um luxo que deve ser dado apenas às classes superiores e que a ralé (ou seja tu e eu) deve permanecer iletrada para ser mais facilmente manobrável porque um povo inculto cede mais facimente ao hipnotismo daqueles que se dizem os nossos líderes no campo político e religioso...sim, isto foi dito por um indivíduo que não professa o anarquismo e que acredita em Deus mas que acima de tudo abomina as mentiras...e não te preocupes Tio Sam, também não sou comunista :)
Senhores(as) para que não me perca em grandes dicursos e porque acredito que uma mensagem curta segue mais facilmente o seu destino do que uma orgia de palavras, gostava de lhes fazer o seguite pedido e dar o seguinte esclarecimento - A cultura somente se torna um luxo exclusivo da elite se não for partilhada e distribuida por todos pois esta deve ser acessível a toda a gente tal como o ensino ou aquele alimento tão simples mas tão substancial que os próprios textos bíblicos o mencionam e que dá pelo nome de PÃO.
Ou seja cultura é pão e tal como o pão alimenta,nutre,e dá força aqule que o come a cultura enriquece tremendamente a vida de um indivíduo,leva-o a querer superar-se e a partilhar o que tem de melhor em si com os outros, e não é do meu interesse utilizar floreados ou palavras bonits sei porque já o senti na pele o quanto isto que vos digo é verdade.
Se a cultura é cara ?! sim é verdade_ tal como o pão,mas para que não existam enganos e para desmistificar de uma vez por todas essas classezinhas de merda de pseudo preveligiados que por terem acesso aos melhores livros e ao melhor tipo de ensino acham-se uma raça superior de homens e mulheres permitam-me que os esclareça do seguinte_ aqueles que vos limpam a casa,o escritório,engraxa os sapatos,lava o automóvel,cozinha para vocês e os vossos filhos e até aqueles que não tem a sorte de possuir uma casa ou de comer todos os dias,SIM até esses gostam de coisas belas e sim até esses reconheceriam a frescura de um copo de água limpa depois de passarem anos a beber água suja.
Por isso aqui vai o meu pedido, _se gostam de ler então emprestem livros a quem vos pedir pois vão enriquecer a vida dessa pessoa imensamente e não deixem vós mesmos nunca de pedir livros emprestados porque um livro parado numa prateleira é como uma munição que nunca será utilizada.
Se gostam de assistir a peças de teatro,ou gostam de cinema ou de ir a museus ou qualquer outra coisa que acham no vosso intímo que vos enriquece a vida interiormente então nunca deixem de convidar alguém para ir convosco se puderem partilhar um bilhete com outra pessoa. Isto dito por alguém que muitas vezes quis assistir a peças de teatro ou ir ao cinema ou ver um concerto ou assistir a uma palestra muitas vezes na vida e não tinha possiblidades monetárias para o fazer.
Por isso para terminar gostava apenas de acrescentar que quando ouvirem a mítica e célebre frase "A cultura é um luxo exclusivo da elite" lembrem-se que a cultura tal como o pão é um bem que deve ser partilhado por todos independentemente de preços e de classes sociais.

English translation:
From far away there is a cliché that cries: "Culture is an exclusive luxury of the elite" ... let me make the following comment, here goes - THIS IS A LIE!, Of he many lies that have been told to mankind this is certainly one of the most vile, cruel, cynical and hypocritical ever. Whomever said this also certainly believed that education is a luxury that should be given only to the upper classes and the rabble (that is you and I) must remain illiterate to be more manoeuvrable as uneducated people gives more to hypnotism from those who call themselves our leaders in the political, religious and media scenery ... yes, this was said by an individual who is not an anarchist and believes in God but hates lies above all things ... and not to worry Uncle Sam, I´m no communist neither :)
Ladies and Gentleman, not to lose myself with a massive speech and being a believer that a short message follows a straight path more easily than an orgy of words, I would like to make the following request and give the following clarification - Culture only becomes an exclusive luxury of the elite if not shared and distributed by everyone as it must be accessible to everyone such as teaching or that food so simple but so substantial that even the biblical texts mention it _ BREAD.
In other words, culture is like bread and bread nourishes, nurtures, and empowers whom ever eats it .Culture tremendously enriches the life of an individual, leads him to want to surpass Himself and share what is best of him(her)self with others, and it is not in my interest to use flowery words because I've felt on my back the weight of the statement i just made so i know it to be true.
If culture is expensive?! yes, it´s true_ such as bread, but there are no misunderstandings and to dispel once and for all those shitty pseudo little upper classes that by having access to the best books and the best type of education find themselves to be some sort of master race of men and women let me clarify the following_ those that clean your home, your office, polish your shoes, wash your car, cook for you and your children and even those who do not have the luck of owning a home or eating every day, YES even those people share the sensitivity to enjoy beautiful things, even they recognize the freshness of a glass of clean water after spending years drinking dirty water.
So here's my request, _If you like to read books then lend to whom it will ask you, that will enrich the life of that person immensely and do not stop yourself from borrowing books also because a book standing alone on a shelf is like ammo that will never be used.
If you like to watch theater plays, or enjoy a movie or going to museums or anything else you feel in your heart that enriches the life inside you, having the chance to do so never cease to invite someone to go with you .This is said by someone who often wanted to attend plays or go to the movies or watch a concert or attend a lecture many times in life and had no financial possibilities to do so.
So to end, i would just like to add that when you hear the mythical and famous phrase "Culture is an exclusive luxury of the elite" remember that culture like bread is a "good" that must be shared by all regardless of price and social classes.

One "CLICK" a Day..., Goat Trail / Caminho de Cabras

 

I often wonder how is that the old shepherd still manages to remain so with that old way of earning a living and to draw from it his livelihood.


He´s almost centenary, bent by time and the weight of life but I see him every afternoon getting out of the old abandoned windmill on the road accompanied by the goats that are now his only family, and walk with them the harsh ways of the hill where he leads them to graze.

Where they go he will follow them for long and hard steep rails.

Rain or shine I watch from afar his sunburned face, wrinkled and inrregular like those tracks that he has traveled in life.

I know that he might not have much time. I noticed that he keeps getting farther from the herd and it must be quite hard to follow them due to his old age.

The powerful cars pass by this ludicrous group as far away as possible from the comforts and confusions of this era and the powerful engines seem to emit noise of a giant sputum who despises everyone who stubbornly keeps herding a flock.

Once this hill was a fertile agricultural area spotted with fields of barley and wheat. Planted and harvested the people ate bread that was almost the only substantial food but with the taste of new life and sweat.
Things had meaning...

Now this is just a path, a shortcut out of the city where the ground was torn to build roads and all crops were burned in the name of progress.

Progress ?..............

Today I have not seen the shepherd ...

Diogo Carvalho © Copyright.

Costumo perguntar-me com frequência como é que o velho pastor ainda consegue manter-se com aquela tão antigo modo de ganhar a vida e daí extrair o seu sustento.

É quase centenário,torto pelo tempo e pelo peso da vida no entanto vejo-o todas as tardes a sair de velho moinho abandonado à beira da estrada acompanhado pelas cabras que agora são a sua única família e a trilhar com estas os duros caminhos da serra onde as leva a pastar.

Aonde elas vão ele acompanha por muito duros ou ingremes que sejam os trilhos.

Chova ou faça sol observo ao longe o seu rosto queimado pelo sol,enrugado e inrregular como aqueles trilhos que ele tem percorrido na vida.

Sei que talvez não lhe reste muito tempo pois reparei que ele vai ficando cada vez mais distante das cabritas e já lhe deve ser muito difícil acompanhar o rebanho derivado à sua idade avançada.

Os potentes carros passam por este grupo caricato tão afastado dos confortos e confusões desta era e os potentes motores parecem emitir o ruído de um gigantesco escarro que despreza todo aquele que teimosamente ainda pastoreia o seu rebanho.

Outrora esta era uma zona agrícola fértil em campos pintalgados de cevada e trigo onde se plantava,colhia e se comia o pão que era quase o único alimento substancial mas que tinha aquele gosto antigo a vida e a suor.
As coisas tinham significado...

Agora este é apenas um trilho, um atalho fora da cidade onde o chão foi rasgado para construir estradas e todas as searas foram queimadas em nome do progresso.

Progresso ?..............

Hoje não vi o pastor ...

Diogo Carvalho © Copyright.

bonequinhoda.bic81@gmail.com

One "CLICK" a Day..., Necropolis of Carenque / Necrópole de Carenque

Find out more in : (http://www.arqa.pt/)