os deuses

Por isso mesmo – para não se comprometerem –
os Deuses, quando nos falam ao ouvido,
evitam frases explícitas e promessas concretas.
E embora falando espantosamente
a nossa língua, espantosamente não são entendidos.
Consegues perceber isto, Bloom?

(in Uma Viagem à India, Gonçalo Tavares)

of clericism and men

The veneration of mighty invisible beings, which was extorted from helpless man through natural fear rooted in the sense of his impotence, did not begin with a religion but rather with a slavish worship of a god (or of idols). When this worship had achieved a certain publicly legalized form it was a temple service, and it became a church worship only after the moral culture of men was gradually united with its laws.

(In "Religion within the limits of bare reason", Emmanuel Kant)

caucasus

View of Hayravank Monastery and Sevan Lake, Armenia

Kapatadze lake, on the road from David Gareji monastery to Sagaredjo, Georgia

(photos by O coxo, September 2016)

Animatou 2016

Um quarto dos poemas é imitação literária

Herberto Helder dito por Fernando Alves, in Servidões


Um quarto dos poemas é imitação literária,
outro quarto é ainda imitação mas já irónica e colérica,
outro quarto é das labaredas da inquisição à volta,
outro quarto, o quarto, o que falta, é por causa da magnificência do mundo
o quinto quarto absurdo é o das quatro patas cortadas,
e o último é ele que olha da montanha
onde abriu na pedra o seu nome inabalável,
e voltava ao primeiro como se fosse orvalho,
como se fosse tão frio que cortasse até ao osso,
o imo do próprio nome assim metido na pedra,
tanto que ninguém sabia de quem era,
porque ficou todo dentro e não se via de fora:
nem o suor nem o sangue nem o sopro

Explorers wanted

Series of posters created by NASA to promote MARS missions

EXPLORERS WANTED ON THE JOURNEY TO MARS

Hike the solar system's largest canyon, Valles Marineris on Mars, where you can catch blue sunsets in the twilight, and see the two moons of Mars (Phobos and Deimos) in the night sky.

WORK THE NIGHT SHIFT ON MARTIAN MOON PHOBOS

Night owls welcome! If you lived on Mars' moon Phobos, you'd have an office with a view, mining for resources with Mars in the night sky. Settlers below on Mars would see Phobos rise and set not once, but twice in one day!

FARMERS WANTED FOR SURVIVAL ON MARS

Got a green thumb? This one's for you! In space, you can grow tomatoes, lettuce, peas, and radishes just like you would find in your summer garden. New ways of growing fresh food will be needed to keep brave explorers alive.

SURVEYORS WANTED TO EXPLORE MARS AND ITS MOONS

Have you ever asked the question, what is out there? So have we! That curiosity leads us to explore new places like Mars and its moons, Phobos and Deimos. Just what lies beyond the next valley, canyon, crater, or hill is something we want to discover with rovers and with humans one day too.

TEACH ON MARS AND ITS MOONS

Learning is out of this world! Learning can take you places you've never dreamed of, including Mars and its two moons, Phobos and Deimos. No matter where we live, we can always learn something new, especially with teacher-heroes who guide us on our path, daring us to dream and grow!

TECHNICIANS WANTED TO ENGINEER OUR FUTURE ON MARS

People with special talents will always be in demand for our Journey To Mars. Whether repairing an antenna in the extreme environment of Mars, or setting up an outpost on the moon Phobos, having the skills and desire to dare mighty things is all you need.

ASSEMBLY REQUIRED TO BUILD OUR FUTURE ON MARS AND ITS MOONS

Are you someone who can put things together, solving challenges to ensure survival? Dare to forge our future with space-age tools - build spaceships to carry us to Mars and back, and habitats to protect us while we're there.

Stop making sense

Civilized people walk funny.

There is always a party going on somewhere.

People will remember if you always wear the same outfit.

(loose phrases from  stop making sense, David Byrne, Talking Heads)

and now, the big suit:

musiques en été

Musiques en été, Parc de la Grange, July and August, program here

cine transat

Plus que suspect

Les chênes sont atteints d'une grave maladie
Ils sèchent après avoir laissé échapper
Dans une lumière de purin au soleil couchant
Toute une cohue de têtes de généraux

(André Breton)

Fête de la Danse

The Fête de la Danse is here: 12-16 mai 2016 in Geneva.

Burden of Time

photo par O Coxo, Avril 2016. Mosquée dans les ruines d'une Kasbah à Tineghir, Maroc (Merci à nos amis de Tafouyit, Tamttatouchte, de nous avoir accueilli encore une fois. 14 ans après notre premier rencontre.)

The What? The Burden of Time.

Juste une note pour dire que le poid du temps nous fait finalement sentir plus légers. Il y a une densité superflue qui se perd qui a comme effet de nous libèrer des mots nécessaires. Les mots qu'il faut toujours dire sont d'un coup remplacés par du silence. Le silence qui doit toujours y être, à la place des mots. 
C'est ça le travail minicieux du temps: de nous libèrer des mots. C'est son ouevre le plus beau.

romã

Parte I

Começa aqui a exorcização do medo
Começa aqui o regresso às manhãs frias

à terra húmida e aos declives com musgo
onde espreita o fim e a morte lenta

e tudo é prazer na pele

(O Coxo)

Parte II 

Romã: do árabe Romman
Fruta originária da Pérsia, cultivada na Ásia Central, na Geórgia, na Armênia, no Azerbaijão e na região Mediterrânea por muitos anos. O seu cultivo tem uma longa história na Armênia, onde restos de romãs fósseis datadas de 1000 a.C. foram encontrados. Foram os berberes que levaram a romã e seu cultivo para a Península Ibérica.

 (in "a origem da palavra Romã", Maria Luiza Berwanger da Silva)
 
Parte III


Perséfone foi seqüestrada por Hades  e levada para viver no inferno como sua esposa. A mãe de Perséfone, Deméter, entrou então em luto pela perda de sua filha. Devido ao luto, todas a plantas cessaram de crescer. Zeus, não podendo deixar a terra morrer, ordenou que Hades devolvesse Perséfone. Todavia, era regra do destino que qualquer um que consumisse alimento ou bebida no inferno estaria condenado a ficar lá por toda a eternidade. Quando Perséfone era ainda prisioneira de Hades, ela não tinha nenhum alimento para comer e Hades enganou-a oferecendo-lhe quatro sementes de romã. Por causa disso, ela foi condenada a passar quatro meses por ano no inferno. Assim, durante os quatro meses de Inverno em que Perséfone está ao lado de seu marido Hades no inferno, a terra não é fértil.

(in "a origem da palavra Romã", Maria Luiza Berwanger da Silva)

Parte IV

Rômulo Rema
Rômulo rema no rio.
A romã dorme no ramo,
a romã rubra. (E o céu).
O remo abre o rio.
O rio murmura.
A romã rubra dorme
cheia de rubis. (E o céu).
Rômulo rema no rio.
Abre-se a romã.
Abre-se a manhã.
Rolam rubis rubros do céu.
No rio,
Rômulo rema.

(Poema de Cecília Meireles)


Parte V

Image du film: La couleur de la grenade, Sergei Paradjanov, 1969

aos remotos de todos os Tibetes

Se considero com atenção a vida que os homens vivem, nada encontro nela que a diference da vida que vivem os animais. Uns e outros são lançados inconscientemente através das coisas e do mundo; uns e outros se entretêm com intervalos; uns e outros percorrem diariamente o mesmo percurso orgânico; uns e outros não pensam para além do que pensam, nem vivem para além do que vivem. (...)

Estas considerações, que em mim são frequentes levam-me a uma admiração súbita (...) aos místicos e aos ascetas - aos remotos de todos os Tibetes (...). Estes, ainda que no absurdo, tentam, de facto, libertar-se da lei animal. Estes, ainda que na loucura, tentam, de facto, negar a lei da vida, o espojar-se ao sol e o aguardar da morte sem pensar nela. Buscam, ainda que parados no alto de uma coluna; anseiam, ainda que numa cela sem luz; querem o que não conhecem, ainda que no martírio dado e na mágoa imposta.

Nós outros todos, que vivemos como animais com mais ou menos complexidade, atravessamos o palco como figurantes que não falam, vaidosos da solenidade do trajecto. (...) Os outros - os místicos da má hora e do sacríficio - sentem ao menos, com o corpo e o quotidiano, a presença mágica do mistério. São libertos, porque negam o sol visível; são plenos, porque se esvaziaram do vácuo do mundo.

(Bernardo Soares, in "O livro do Desassossego")

Steps festival

As part of the Steps Dance Festival, happening in the major Swiss cities from 7.4.2016 - 1.5.2016, Aakash Odedra presented Rising, a performance comprising four different pieces where Aakash adopts different moods, including elements of Kathak, an indian classical dance, in the first piece, changing into more visceral movements in the second and finishing with a more mystical set. Strongly recommended. A trailer below.

Fou à lier

FOU À LIER (Feu! Chatterton)

J’y pense tout le temps
Et pour que ça passe, ça passe
Je m’automédique
J’avale, j’avale
Des ecstas merdiques
Et je me dis que
Ça va

Et quand tout fout le camp
Je prends la poudre d’escampette
Qu’à mes tempes mon pouls ralentisse
Que les voix se taisent
Après la tempête
Je flotte dessus mes hantises

Dessus la peur d’être fou
À lier
Marteau comme ici les requins
Que j’ai dans la coloquinte
Au fond du bocal
Fêlé

Ouais je crains de finir fou
À lier
Marteau comme ici les requins !
Sont-ce des vaisseaux low cost
Pour des cieux tropicaux ?

Pastilles multicolores
Pour que les Dieux décolèrent…
Dans la discothèque
Poussent des palmiers que les
Crocodiles accostent
Descendons en parachute
Dans cet infini paradis !

La pensée a ses terres
Pas vues des radars satellitaires
Cette île est-elle ici réelle
Abandonnée ?
Ou bien dans ma tête
Récif peuplé de sirènes

Qui disent que je suis fou
À lier
Marteau comme ici les requins
Que j’ai dans la coloquinte
Un tout petit grain
Caféiné

Elles disent que je suis fou
À lier
Marteau comme ici les requins !
Sont-ce des tickets low cost
Pour des cieux tropicaux ?

Oh oh mais où suis-je ?
Et qui sont tous ces gens
Qui enfilent des perles aux cous
D’autres va-nu-pieds ?

Vite, je courtise
Les filles des locaux
Enfile des perles au cou
D’autres vahinés !

Ooooh ! Vite, je courtise
Les filles des locaux
Enfile des perles au cou
De toutes ces vahinés…

Omar Khayamm

Dans la maison des artistes à Tehran j'ai trouvé ces "cent un quatrains" de Omar Khayyam, traduits du persan par Gilbert Lazard. Voici trois de ces quatrains:


Puisque ma venue au monde
  hors de moi fut décidée
Qu'on en sûr en fin de compte
  d'en sortir bon gré mal gré
Debout, remplis ta fonction
  car je veux, enfant qui m'aimes,
Dans le vin noyer la peine
  de l'humaine condition


Faudrait-il donc que je tente
  d'encor bâtir sur la mer?
Les idolâtres du temple,
  je les laisse à leurs chimères,
Khayyam est gibier d'enfer,
  paraît-il, mais qui le dit?
Qui a vu le paradis
  et qui revient de l'enfer?


Rétif esclave, je n'ai
  ni l'heur ni l'art de Te plaire;
Mon cœur impur ne connaît
  ni Ta paix ni Ta lumière.
Mais Tu n'octroies l'espérance
  qu'à ceux qui suivent Ta voie:
C'est un marché, je n'y vois
  grâce ni munificence!

A Syrian love story

A courageous and deeply touching documentary about a Syrian family's exile filmed over 5 years. Strongly reccomended.

Nevermind

From Leonard Cohen's fabulous last album: 'popular stories', here is nevermind, a story about war and betrayal, which was first published online by Cohen as a poem in 2005.

Nothing That Is Everything

[Antigel Festival]

Nothing That Is Everything is a performance/dance/theatre/music show by Zita Swoon Group and Cie Wolvin, which revisits a Dada performance that took place in 1916, in the Cabaret Voltaire in Zurich. Highly recommended it if you happen to have them close to you.

The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock

Two excerpts from T.S. Eliot's poem "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock", from a selection of poems made by T.S. Eliot himself. Eliot famously wrote: "the only way of expressing emotion in the form of art is by finding (...) a set of objects, a situation, a chain of events which shall be formula of that particular emotion.".

The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock

(..)

And indeed there will be time
For the yellow smoke that slides along the street,
Rubbing its back upon the window-panes;
There will be time, there will be time
To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;
There will be time to murder and create,
And time for all the works and days of hands
That lift and drop a question on your plate;
Time for you and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
And for a hundred visions and revisions,
Before the taking of a toast and tea.

In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo.

And indeed there will be time
To wonder, “Do I dare?” and, “Do I dare?”
Time to turn back and descend the stair,
With a bald spot in the middle of my hair —
(They will say: “How his hair is growing thin!”)
My morning coat, my collar mounting firmly to the chin,
My necktie rich and modest, but asserted by a simple pin —
(They will say: “But how his arms and legs are thin!”)
Do I dare
Disturb the universe?
In a minute there is time
For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.

(...)

I grow old ... I grow old ...
I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.
Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach?
I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.
I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.

I do not think that they will sing to me.

Antigel 2016

Le Verb Être

Je connais le désespoir dans ses grandes lignes. Le désespoir n'a pas d'ailes, il ne se tient pas nécessairement à une table desservie sur une terrasse, le soir, au bord de la mer. C'est le désespoir et ce n'est pas le retour d'une quantité de petits faits comme des graines qui quittent à la nuit tombante un sillon pour un autre. Ce n'est pas la mousse sur une pierre ou le verre à boire. C'est un bateau criblé de neige, si vous voulez, comme les oiseaux qui tombent et leur sang n'a pas la moindre épaisseur. Je connais le désespoir dans ses grandes lignes. Une forme très petite, délimitée par un bijou de cheveux. C'est le désespoir. Un collier de perles pour lequel on ne saurait trouver de fermoir et dont l'existence ne tient pas même à un fil, voilà le désespoir. Le reste, nous n'en parlons pas. Nous n'avons pas fini de désespérer, si nous commençons. Moi je désespère de l'abat-jour vers quatre heures, je désespère de l'éventail vers minuit, je désespère de la cigarette des condamnés. Je connais le désespoir dans ses grandes lignes. Le désespoir n'a pas de cœur, la main reste toujours au désespoir hors d'haleine, au désespoir dont les glaces ne nous disent jamais s'il est mort. Je vis de ce désespoir qui m'enchante. (...)

In "le révolver À cheveux blancs", André Breton

beyond persepolis

Paddy fields in the Alborz mountains, Alamut valley region, northeast of Qazvin, Iran

House in the troglodyte village of Kandovan, close to Tabriz, Iran

The village of Palangan, in the Iranian Kurdistan, south of Sanandaj

View of the valley of Howraman Takht in the Iranian Kurdistan

The village of Howraman Takht in the Iranian Kurdistan

The beautiful Lotfollah mosque in the Naqsh-e Jaha square in Isfahan, Iran

Wind towers in Yazd, desert city in Iran

The Kaluts, imposing sand formations in the Iranian desert northeast of Kerman

The Shah Cheragh shrine in Shiraz, Iran

The gate of all nations, entry gate of Persepolis, Iran

The oasis of Farahzad in the Dasht e Kavir desert, Iran

O Coxo, in the dunes in the Dasht e Kavir

silk road

Silkworm cocoons with visible silk threads in a silk factory in Margillan, Fergana Valley, Uzbekistan.

The Registan old public square in Samrkand, Uzbekistan. On the left, the Ulugh beg Madrasah.

The Kalon mosque Bukhara, on the right with the astonishing Kalon minaret on the centre.

Little Char Minar in Bukhara

Street landscapes and market in Khiva, northwest of Uzbekistan.