O Filho da Mãe

Filho da Mãe - Album from Ricardo Tabosa - Edit works on Vimeo.

Fat

Ponderosa

The illusion of confusion is not from where I am sat.

Ron Mueck

Amazing...

Recoil - Vertigen

Aquell matí em vaig llevar, no recordo on ni tan sols el temps que fa, i tot havia canviat.
Però jo no ho sabia, encara, i més m'hagués valgut no saber-ho mai. El meu món era
petit, però suficient, abans. Deixà de ser-ho. La meva vida, un cel particular, nul.
la incertesa, dolça soledat; més tard, cau soterrat, previsibilitat maleïda, asfixiant aïllament. Mai res no m'havia fet tanta falta. Ni la sang que per les venes em corre no
necessitava amb la mateixa urgència. Mentre el dolor creixia, de sobte, aquell soroll
estrepitós, insuportable. Cridant, plorant, vaig córrer. Era incapaç de sentir els meus
crits, de segur esgarrifosos. De sobte, l'abisme s'obrí sota els meus peus. Morir, volia.
Recuperar el meu cau, la meva estimada soledat, els meus llimbs, la meva preuada illa. I
vaig caure. Queia, sentint-me cada vegada més prop d'aquell horror, del meu propi dolor,
del més terrorífic despertar dels meus sentits, tot just acabat de descobrir. Ja no
recordo quan va ser que vaig despertar aquell fatídic matí, aleshores salvador. No
recordo quan fa que estic caient, que caic, veient la fi més propera cada vegada però
amb la incertesa de si mai arribarà. Ara el dolor sembla no tenir límits. El dolor i la por
són tot el que sento. Tinc por de caure per sempre.

Glassworks

"If you build castles in the air, your work isn´t lost, it´s in the air that they should be. Now build their Foundations beneath them." David Thoreau




"Today, in my way home, Oporto´s streets seemed to me as my mother´s womb before I was born (strange or beautiful?), the people were so close to me that I could feel their heartbeats and they wispered gently their emotions. I touched the hair of a child... such peace of mind... the human touch is something unique." (18 Dec 2002)

Recoil - Jezebel

Well stop, great God, stop there and listen, listen to the story ‘bout Jezebel. Her sins were so wicked Jehovah got angry, her soul went leapin' and jumpin' into Hell. Way back yonder in the olden days, John told Jezebel to borrow her ways, said her evil deeds had ruined the land and repent for the kingdom of God was at hand. She got mad at John ‘cause he told her ‘bout the gospel, told her servants to boil him in oil. Well they tell me God looked from the windows of the heavens, spoke one word and the oil wouldn't boil. He raised his hand, creation trembled, stamped his feet and time stood still, raised his voice, looked down and thundered “John! Go do my will." You got to go to judgment, stand trial. Then they tell me John moved through the power of the gospel, told Jezebel her time was nigh. On the book of life, her days were ended, her time run out and she had to die. Well they tell me God walked his footsteps thunderin', he moved his head and his eyes flashed fire, clapped his hands and death come jumpin', Jehovah was angry, somebody had to die. You got to go to judgment, stand trial. Then Death come knockin' on Jezebel's door and said “Come on woman ain't you ready to go? Of your evil deeds God's done got tired, you got to go to judgment, stand trial." Then Death come leapin' she jumped into Hell, great God Almighty I heard them tell. Nine days she lay in Jerusalem's streets, her flesh was too filthy for the dogs to eat. You got to go to judgment, stand trial. “Jezebel, mind God's talking, says he's tired of your evil ways. You got to go to judgment, stand trial."