Susan Sontag, Reborn: Journals and Notebooks, 1947-1963
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Susan Sontag, Reborn: Journals and Notebooks, 1947-1963
“Self-analysis is impossible because it remains within the domain of privacy, a domain predominated by narcissistic illusion and imaginary ideals. In our private worlds, we count the value of our conscious intentions far too highly, and we simultaneously fail to grasp our unconscious motivations. We pay attention to our conscious intentions rather than to the signifiers that we employ unconsciously. To psychoanalyze oneself is to fall further into one’s private self-deception.”
— Todd McGowan, Driven into the Public: The Psychic Constitution of Space
The Blair Witch Project (Daniel Myrick, Eduardo Sánchez, 1999)
Momentos de clareza antes do amanhecer, instantes azulados, cristalinos - onde é que se busca a felicidade por trás das coisas, dos pequenos 'bons dias', das conversas de corredor e das cores do céu nos inícios de noite?
Silent Hill 4: The Room. 2004.
forever scared of time passing by
A poesia morre.
Aceitar a saudade
Que precisa de um lar
E espaço para respirar.
Félix Vallotton (1865-1925) The Wind, 1910 oil on canvas 89.2 x 116.2 cm
I
"Sentiu-se tão velha, tão acabada, tão distante das melhores horas de sua vida, que sentiu saudades inclusive das que recordava como as piores, e só então descobriu como faziam falta as lufadas de orégano da varanda, e o vapor dos roseirais ao entardecer, e até a natureza bestial dos forasteiros. Seu coração de cinza amassada, que tinha resistido sem fraquejar aos golpes mais certeiros da realidade cotidiana, desmoronou nos primeiros embates da nostalgia. A necessidade de sentir-se triste ia se transformando num vício conforme os anos a devastavam. Humanizou-se na solidão.
(Cem Anos de Solidão, Gabriel Garcia Márquez)
The year is finishing, full of unresolved anxieties, unrealized dreams, and plans which are leading no one knows where.
Andrei Tarkovsky, Time Within Time.
Ir para casa com meu silêncio. Encher com ele as paredes brancas.
Ser estrangeiro, onde quer que vá.
Marguerite Duras, Hiroshima Mon Amour (tr. by Richard Seaver), 1959
Sertigweg, 1926, Ernst Ludwig Kirchner
Medium: oil,canvas