tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29603227529112097992024-03-05T17:38:42.391-08:00PortografiasOlhares gémeos sobre a fotografia!portografiashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02745263166355892663noreply@blogger.comBlogger17125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2960322752911209799.post-36778488539618152042007-11-02T08:11:00.000-07:002007-11-06T03:18:39.994-08:00JORGE, MR. GEORGE<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCXhvEQ6KRfAPHfsoetKLIsg6F3PjhHk60I4Z_p3yUm1hrGgM_A9iyYAdtyN05Zae1g15SaVvrN1jO7axRreL27XdQHKQ7uQ-JRmxBjyGFaS1hW_YjrN-YSSdV59I_2ot_VHBUWQaMLo4/s1600-h/Seu+Jorge1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCXhvEQ6KRfAPHfsoetKLIsg6F3PjhHk60I4Z_p3yUm1hrGgM_A9iyYAdtyN05Zae1g15SaVvrN1jO7axRreL27XdQHKQ7uQ-JRmxBjyGFaS1hW_YjrN-YSSdV59I_2ot_VHBUWQaMLo4/s400/Seu+Jorge1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5128263169079040866" /></a><br />Novembro 2007, Portoportografiashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02745263166355892663noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2960322752911209799.post-16900602819411657092007-10-10T15:19:00.000-07:002007-10-11T10:19:05.796-07:00ALONE IN THE DARK<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiZn6Rk-zNkUh5ZFaniNkCyUB9ePt2va3-ytjW2MvmOeZBhRr4QFUjldsfd-Wv9Bjvw5EdouJlfAS7FnSXK-vVRWbIM8j6DEaFCbXHHdHpIlGFzwKnYXx0dx15MELVvxDi6CU_Y9-t0jE/s1600-h/retrato.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiZn6Rk-zNkUh5ZFaniNkCyUB9ePt2va3-ytjW2MvmOeZBhRr4QFUjldsfd-Wv9Bjvw5EdouJlfAS7FnSXK-vVRWbIM8j6DEaFCbXHHdHpIlGFzwKnYXx0dx15MELVvxDi6CU_Y9-t0jE/s400/retrato.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119836674511268946" /></a><br />Outubro 2007portografiashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02745263166355892663noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2960322752911209799.post-15034588742764854232007-10-05T09:50:00.000-07:002007-10-10T10:14:19.069-07:00BROKEN WINGS<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1p21G7_jMPp3_S_FHRx_A9STQtIKMYx3lepHY394C9WSvJVy0pgmMzXskGZPi6CJDHAaEDYoV_Z6fdl9YerRFANJS-cTTt3xuclAr1mwTyJThaMoQz1a0iRqNm_RdQnoHoB6wCaOoOWg/s1600-h/vooparaamorte.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1p21G7_jMPp3_S_FHRx_A9STQtIKMYx3lepHY394C9WSvJVy0pgmMzXskGZPi6CJDHAaEDYoV_Z6fdl9YerRFANJS-cTTt3xuclAr1mwTyJThaMoQz1a0iRqNm_RdQnoHoB6wCaOoOWg/s400/vooparaamorte.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5117896616308829250" /></a><br />Outubro 2007, Porto<br /><br />The angel inside tends to try to control the devil next door. The wings give freedom to the poor minded, as they plunge of a cliff. Some are white and shiny, others dark and bright. Most of them are invisible to the human eye, but these where captured in a moment of inspiration. What you feel is the fresh air of the flight, what you don't know is that these wings are yours and mine.<br />"You shlould always shoot for the moon, because even if you miss, you'll land on the stars".portografiashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02745263166355892663noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2960322752911209799.post-76486823262699884502007-10-03T15:57:00.000-07:002007-10-10T10:02:44.180-07:00THE RIVER OF DREAMS<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3aX8PMGDgQO_7wbMwDSQzBSg_cNOLvtCEP1NpoW2S9MfADWI1eBr9RXmz416mQwnjwPEeJf6WtdneERPtSvl7JKcSRzMBwfLP4DUgojCKakfvxz60qFvqMbQozYV_POZ3bnCSKHpPtvc/s1600-h/RioDouro.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3aX8PMGDgQO_7wbMwDSQzBSg_cNOLvtCEP1NpoW2S9MfADWI1eBr9RXmz416mQwnjwPEeJf6WtdneERPtSvl7JKcSRzMBwfLP4DUgojCKakfvxz60qFvqMbQozYV_POZ3bnCSKHpPtvc/s400/RioDouro.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5117249218708433970" /></a><br />Outubro 2007, Vila Nova de Gaia<br /><br />Floating like an airplane on clouds, the boats cut the brown surface of the river, like a camel through the desert. Can there be anything more important than getting to the other side? Probably, but why does the sun set on the bridge? And why do the north winds always find their way south? The stream runs to the ocean and the boats try to find their way home.<br />"I was happy in my harbour, before you cut me loose".portografiashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02745263166355892663noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2960322752911209799.post-26146255990004498242007-09-05T12:09:00.000-07:002007-09-11T17:38:57.498-07:00MIRROR, MIRROR ON THE WALL...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT0LOCWiozcNR_mJshHPbXbXigVdr2AjN-pnJaHSKOPg4IwJjxCNMEil_me9zctYR1tzFPuZ2dtDxBWlzqRyr_IDMl6nsGtYjVAoHRAphOZuCJPmSwXJs3nYkwMhNxM7OUU0kW31NOV78/s1600-h/autoretrato.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT0LOCWiozcNR_mJshHPbXbXigVdr2AjN-pnJaHSKOPg4IwJjxCNMEil_me9zctYR1tzFPuZ2dtDxBWlzqRyr_IDMl6nsGtYjVAoHRAphOZuCJPmSwXJs3nYkwMhNxM7OUU0kW31NOV78/s400/autoretrato.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5106799710366624274" /></a><br />Julho 2007, Madrid<br /><br />Art has it's thing. The harder yo try to hide, the more you show yourself. In every shot there is a small part of you. In every look, there is another clue. Invisibility is not an option and a camera is not a shield. It is a filter that enhances your point of view. You make the news, because you are good news. You never look the other way, you try only to see it your way.<br />"Try walking in my shoes..."portografiashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02745263166355892663noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2960322752911209799.post-9710840447031295202007-08-13T16:05:00.000-07:002007-09-09T05:18:53.489-07:00GOLDEN FOG<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG3CUQz1Heg_y41bBkSMdEBs_dW7H50iiSmX_xHO7QkcturK3WDD4Dc_SAn4H54hl5DXmMy-4BJW6PyTRPU9ShSOP5syWNeDEQUMrn7CIPTvYONLYDULlsQcFSYnfJNW4HUrOqaVHZ4L4/s1600-h/douro.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG3CUQz1Heg_y41bBkSMdEBs_dW7H50iiSmX_xHO7QkcturK3WDD4Dc_SAn4H54hl5DXmMy-4BJW6PyTRPU9ShSOP5syWNeDEQUMrn7CIPTvYONLYDULlsQcFSYnfJNW4HUrOqaVHZ4L4/s400/douro.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5098325376981842274" /></a><br />Agosto 2007, Douro<br /><br />The river runs to the ocean, like a snake through the valleys of wine. Flowing to a safe port, this golden liquid was once a fruit. Grapes of nature, steep hills, feet crushing the divine drink. The endless landscapes form the deep tradition. What the eyes see, the mouth tastes, the heart feels. More than a piece of tradition, this picture shows a fragment of a masterpiece.<br />"The sky, is never the limit!"portografiashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02745263166355892663noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2960322752911209799.post-39871077600261539932007-08-10T08:26:00.000-07:002007-08-11T09:48:36.670-07:00SITTING, WAITING, WISHING...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL4t7JevIWCWY_42Idjf1ff_1t-tXJoQQUnZ_mG6qOj71ncj1zUoCT51YpoXYoUrE7bMIBUoq2uRBHT3QWKV_bgVQ4fSHvf156VX2MCwL8icyG-HqhQCTluJNrXfKa9tA6EENbMHE55L8/s1600-h/aliados.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL4t7JevIWCWY_42Idjf1ff_1t-tXJoQQUnZ_mG6qOj71ncj1zUoCT51YpoXYoUrE7bMIBUoq2uRBHT3QWKV_bgVQ4fSHvf156VX2MCwL8icyG-HqhQCTluJNrXfKa9tA6EENbMHE55L8/s400/aliados.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5097093979793307986" /></a><br />Agosto 2007, Porto<br /><br />Just relax, and contemplate the view. Enjoy the grey old city of Oporto. Feel the pleasure of the new discoveries. See the satisfaction in every face, and find the misteries around every corner. For tourists, the streets have no name, they're just a piece of the maze.<br />"All the people in the street, Walk as fast as their feet and I just roll through town!"portografiashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02745263166355892663noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2960322752911209799.post-76980565466298665302007-08-07T04:52:00.000-07:002007-08-11T02:52:35.900-07:00FACE TO FACE<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVXFlu9YEnusq-ulRhcnpT06IgO7pWKZ0AngFBlBsZNJb6_m0WEUmcio7oKRmwqw67VWg4tPk-ViwHWrNexGnPzqjey3inCuufOYP2mDaLwxOtPaiAXr8tU-f4aUGxJkhvufnjDQJZm84/s1600-h/madrid1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVXFlu9YEnusq-ulRhcnpT06IgO7pWKZ0AngFBlBsZNJb6_m0WEUmcio7oKRmwqw67VWg4tPk-ViwHWrNexGnPzqjey3inCuufOYP2mDaLwxOtPaiAXr8tU-f4aUGxJkhvufnjDQJZm84/s400/madrid1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5095925611249842498" /></a><br />Julho 2007, Madrid<br /><br />"Are you talking to me?", he asks. Tradition says, that the eyes are the windows of the soul. Through them, Huxley saw "The Doors of Perception". Either way, what we see is what we get. There are many kinds of looks, but only one point of view. <br />"An eye for an eye..."portografiashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02745263166355892663noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2960322752911209799.post-34742144423960842852007-08-04T08:08:00.000-07:002007-08-06T09:07:20.953-07:00SUMMERTIME<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaPnt1GxWsbCt2qbAk9Ov43urkZF2XO8dwr1xlsJSNQZUz5IGt6cGfXW9ON-dOlMETyYZIGi7Q5JIGTMOPW4CdUnlcAjycd2MWa03BxWRA1Ye1ZPS4LTlaIjruZ6Q3BjVgOdX1CANm28M/s1600-h/madrid.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaPnt1GxWsbCt2qbAk9Ov43urkZF2XO8dwr1xlsJSNQZUz5IGt6cGfXW9ON-dOlMETyYZIGi7Q5JIGTMOPW4CdUnlcAjycd2MWa03BxWRA1Ye1ZPS4LTlaIjruZ6Q3BjVgOdX1CANm28M/s400/madrid.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5094862748578003250" /></a><br />Julho 2007, Madrid<br /><br />Hot Jazz, cool wine and a warm summer night. The perfect ingredients for a drive through town, searching for the perfect spot to chill. A bad habit, some might say.portografiashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02745263166355892663noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2960322752911209799.post-69666764327229537702007-07-27T04:42:00.000-07:002007-08-03T06:38:16.831-07:00VANILLA SKY<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNIPqMC2cNyzqPvxr543VFr76o05HY2OOQSOx7ewUdIlNaU-1HuiyHGmxiEGKHrB3NU4uqkzssSJEtSHe_GqcooW2Ne5eKNh58oL6rJlFw9toLPGR32rn1uTe47ERuri8Ij6akWVMNXTs/s1600-h/gaia.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNIPqMC2cNyzqPvxr543VFr76o05HY2OOQSOx7ewUdIlNaU-1HuiyHGmxiEGKHrB3NU4uqkzssSJEtSHe_GqcooW2Ne5eKNh58oL6rJlFw9toLPGR32rn1uTe47ERuri8Ij6akWVMNXTs/s400/gaia.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093111768880959970" /></a><br />Julho 2007, Vila Nova de Gaia<br /><br />Taller than the shadow... aren't we all?! Bigger on the inside!? just a few... Striving down the cristal pieces of sand that, like us, were once a rock. Why do you need the ocean, if all you want is just a single drop. There's a thin line separating the where and when. Talk about beeing in the right place, at the right time. So, why spend so much time building walls, instead of bridges? How does someone become the best part of you? Let me show you... the way... that I see you... Sometimes I wonder if i'm living between the raindrops. Or just between sunsets.<br />"You're every minute of my every day"portografiashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02745263166355892663noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2960322752911209799.post-9433278366376753672007-07-22T16:17:00.000-07:002007-07-31T08:35:13.429-07:00THE WORLD IN YOUR ARMS<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsNHXd7s_sI3SuBHBLzRLayNCApnFTBMvOJJ8FTpnp57u7IC44uHVNQ-YLzKJ8TKT4kzbU-3qkqwmKtbTZW0oTDGcoN0590kGRR3MYQMZLwB6RVuRXkXytb2YfzCd10gnGFtO_limyKkw/s1600-h/pai.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsNHXd7s_sI3SuBHBLzRLayNCApnFTBMvOJJ8FTpnp57u7IC44uHVNQ-YLzKJ8TKT4kzbU-3qkqwmKtbTZW0oTDGcoN0590kGRR3MYQMZLwB6RVuRXkXytb2YfzCd10gnGFtO_limyKkw/s400/pai.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093114113933103602" /></a><br />Julho 2007, Porto<br /><br />Mick Jagger says that we can't always get what we want. But on the other hand, somebody once replied that, if we try, we can get what we need. And that's the true essence of living. A struggle to fight for our goals, a battle in which many die trying, and forget to live. Like a newborn, we need to wake up everyday. Open your eyes, and see beyond the glass wall, look into the big picture. <br />'Cause, "We got everything we need right here, And everything we need is enough".portografiashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02745263166355892663noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2960322752911209799.post-5267637038040639582007-07-10T09:56:00.000-07:002007-07-30T15:23:09.486-07:00COME FLY WITH ME<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoFdY7KKpwBDvTc_VzHrwZC_xNAO-iBI7tJyyn7h31YGV-F5pnMaWJwfsaDhGjHz759ikPLqbQljgObqZLYGhMmCprY19JOl03QPgOhe72JXy9cishPDL-roSU2cBrt_69nx2XAlKE4nQ/s1600-h/ribeira01.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoFdY7KKpwBDvTc_VzHrwZC_xNAO-iBI7tJyyn7h31YGV-F5pnMaWJwfsaDhGjHz759ikPLqbQljgObqZLYGhMmCprY19JOl03QPgOhe72JXy9cishPDL-roSU2cBrt_69nx2XAlKE4nQ/s400/ribeira01.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093118988720984674" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRu9Qxre0O0SGOR2Ce81QXn-Hv_SFXW2BPRY6EMb8vaN64ydKaEBpzoVVQ3QqHdlMTwCvT5qH_ddnYA2IZAHyQr_BUx7v0JbLx9iMy3ja2B4La4SCrc3hbNsKNMqVQNWt9Vt1s3Km0b9A/s1600-h/ribeira02.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRu9Qxre0O0SGOR2Ce81QXn-Hv_SFXW2BPRY6EMb8vaN64ydKaEBpzoVVQ3QqHdlMTwCvT5qH_ddnYA2IZAHyQr_BUx7v0JbLx9iMy3ja2B4La4SCrc3hbNsKNMqVQNWt9Vt1s3Km0b9A/s400/ribeira02.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093118791152489042" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-7boayyQ_AgRRIRz7MgaPmJSO8xWxhfay_DVGXMzq19S0JI1YHRb9S7Kn6Tk35a4lwOBqYSZ9xiznn_AqdQfk_NZYPsxCnV3QlIk_5AhGFAFfJC9EtuvqfRUYrf2S4cBf_SGOps28Q6M/s1600-h/ribeira03.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-7boayyQ_AgRRIRz7MgaPmJSO8xWxhfay_DVGXMzq19S0JI1YHRb9S7Kn6Tk35a4lwOBqYSZ9xiznn_AqdQfk_NZYPsxCnV3QlIk_5AhGFAFfJC9EtuvqfRUYrf2S4cBf_SGOps28Q6M/s400/ribeira03.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093118576404124226" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHLdx-EdX0TSyMtckOOZTIEfakgYRvHzJCyc4u4tkWlVO1O4xQXLUNGfUS-sqGwDd8M-LSb1I7zzpkwjhffDO86ZrWWzyNGXQwZ076YjgO-M3bAAOWRAUXJqOMd9G3iC2Sw5Bv_IZh-wY/s1600-h/ribeira04.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHLdx-EdX0TSyMtckOOZTIEfakgYRvHzJCyc4u4tkWlVO1O4xQXLUNGfUS-sqGwDd8M-LSb1I7zzpkwjhffDO86ZrWWzyNGXQwZ076YjgO-M3bAAOWRAUXJqOMd9G3iC2Sw5Bv_IZh-wY/s400/ribeira04.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093117756065370674" /></a><br /><br />Sometimes it's not easy to let time go by. You have to spread your wings and defy gravity, bluster the timelines. The crossing of two dots of matter can only be violent. The fusion of the atoms makes us really feel vulnerable, but usefull. Energy can only be measured by the effort invested in the moment. Trough the eyes of the angels you see the reflection of the souls of the demons, the mirror from hell. And the path we choose is the way it's going to be. It's the story of us. The free will to fail gives you the authority to forgive. I'm sorry. I know that you didn't mean it, and that you didn't deserve to fall so hard. Maybe it's because we dived so deep. But hey, the dreams will always be real. <br />So, "dream big, and you may never wake up."portografiashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02745263166355892663noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2960322752911209799.post-39313549422829692162007-07-08T10:38:00.000-07:002007-07-30T15:26:03.555-07:00RODA DA SORTE<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw11L7ihrji2_66bmzrVU1Ef6up_xHUYCJbOzg1Vw2jjTwQSSqVna9PtjCXK8WdmxEZ-GD3mbg5HWE98qarGDqkbbxjfnJTnNGRZ1Q3kFRHjfc0TZEUQ-Ti6eIkvG4P_8AQad0jklMEAI/s1600-h/cabe%C3%A7a+de+pneu.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw11L7ihrji2_66bmzrVU1Ef6up_xHUYCJbOzg1Vw2jjTwQSSqVna9PtjCXK8WdmxEZ-GD3mbg5HWE98qarGDqkbbxjfnJTnNGRZ1Q3kFRHjfc0TZEUQ-Ti6eIkvG4P_8AQad0jklMEAI/s400/cabe%C3%A7a+de+pneu.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093119564246602354" /></a>Julho 2007, Porto<br /><br />Procura-se! Pneu suplente, para assumir lugar cimeiro. Oferece-se bom encaixe de ombros e pescoço ergonómico. Porque para pensar depressa, é preciso muita rodagem. De que vale um bom motor, se não existe forma de transmitir essa potência para o asfalto, para a estrada que é esta vida. Nas bifurcações é preciso optar por um caminho. E depois é necessário carregar no acelerador, prego a fundo. O Grande Prémio da Boavista, no Porto, percorreu ruas e avenidas. Para trás fica muita chapa batida, muita borracha colada ao asfalto. Fica o <em>zum-zum</em> e os estalidos dos carros de corrida. Ficam as estratégias quase vencedoras. Ficam as caras bonitas, quase tão originais como esta, de sol raiado. <br />"No mundo das aparências, o mais profundo é a superfície."portografiashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02745263166355892663noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2960322752911209799.post-42731606798839097652007-07-07T14:26:00.000-07:002007-07-08T16:42:17.888-07:00DE OLHOS BEM ABERTOS<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2g7y29edBeD1zBrhu7Eczvb03NidQSl5bXMeJexBoFOUh635_39AP-fZxem-RWHF6VzA_sj-bkODerAOZfHY2XO7hyphenhyphenpKYfXYgi1_iCoxihKUD19pqD13xbys-ZSGu5IjuKEVeuppodRs/s1600-h/braga.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2g7y29edBeD1zBrhu7Eczvb03NidQSl5bXMeJexBoFOUh635_39AP-fZxem-RWHF6VzA_sj-bkODerAOZfHY2XO7hyphenhyphenpKYfXYgi1_iCoxihKUD19pqD13xbys-ZSGu5IjuKEVeuppodRs/s400/braga.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5084569828700164002" /></a> Junho 2007, Braga<br /><br />Olhar perdido, fixo em diferentes horizontes. Duas faces da mesma moeda, dois ângulos diferentes de ver o mundo. De um lado a forma, a preocupação técnica e teórica. Do outro, a visão prática e atenta. No fundo, aquelas imagens que nos marcam são as que ficam impressas na retina. Aquelas que nos arrancam um sorriso dos lábios, onde penduramos um cigarro. Aquelas que nos embaciam o olhar. É preciso observar a envolvência de uma fotografia, para que esta faça sentido e se auto-contextualize. Não é fácil, espreitar para fora da caixa, assim como não é fácil tirar os olhos dela. Tudo, em busca da perfeição. <br />"Mas perfeita, perfeita..."portografiashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02745263166355892663noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2960322752911209799.post-56860905614473900762007-06-30T10:52:00.000-07:002007-07-01T09:07:01.833-07:00EXPRESSO DO OCIDENTE III<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDzlhB68ewpVFkaGB9h5Ucq2ijHSurFTHUiC1cPg9z1F0vhnFCj55F15izMdx3jq9SlIQWC92KK5xH3_xSaR2fO8l04y_arvUzZNzeimPmPBLScS3f_Y6id23jF5gLWmbyXT_lw52Rxv0/s1600-h/casadamusica.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDzlhB68ewpVFkaGB9h5Ucq2ijHSurFTHUiC1cPg9z1F0vhnFCj55F15izMdx3jq9SlIQWC92KK5xH3_xSaR2fO8l04y_arvUzZNzeimPmPBLScS3f_Y6id23jF5gLWmbyXT_lw52Rxv0/s400/casadamusica.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5081917213948481426" /></a>Junho 2007, Porto<br /><br />Não, não é um comboio futurista, nem uma nave espacial. Trata-se da Casa da Música, a central sonora da actividade cultural da cidade do Porto. Neste OVNI, que a 1 de Julho de 2007 se encheu de extra-terrestres do nosso e de outros países europeus, ecoam sons de discórdia, inovadores, por causa do pouco consensual Tratado Reformador. O diamante da rotunda da Boavista serve de palco para o arranque do novo mandato de Portugal como locomotiva da velha Europa. Uma verdadeira jóia, porque se virmos este continente como um "pouca-terra", a já rodada Lusitânia não passa de um motor de lambreta. E para conseguir puxar o que quer que seja, vai ter de deitar muito fumo. <br />Aqui não se aplica a expressão brasileira "Puxa a vida!", a não ser pela imagem moderna do edifício Rem Kolhaas, que puxa e dá música à vida da granítica cidade.portografiashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02745263166355892663noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2960322752911209799.post-7355191134501248672007-06-29T09:33:00.000-07:002007-07-01T01:07:37.258-07:00MODELO E DETECTIVE<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAdwOFlongbIrsADrdGgtvcR2BBvfzAbOja7lHqXr9bylkZWn46O5JB6FBr1TNOV9dv7eZcLXvETbigKklTXnoMMWLNE65wPugdMi-fjz91wwZHW7hHAs3G1qNK60VRd2oYKLcNjHHu24/s1600-h/homem+c+pernas.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAdwOFlongbIrsADrdGgtvcR2BBvfzAbOja7lHqXr9bylkZWn46O5JB6FBr1TNOV9dv7eZcLXvETbigKklTXnoMMWLNE65wPugdMi-fjz91wwZHW7hHAs3G1qNK60VRd2oYKLcNjHHu24/s400/homem+c+pernas.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5081526848665915266" /></a>Junho 2007, Porto<br /><br />Vaguear pela cidade, como quem percorre os labiríntos do pensamento. Em cada esquina está um fragmento. Nenhum de nós precisa de um mapa para se guiar, já percorremos inúmeras vezes estas calçadas. E, em cada viagem, encontramos sempre novos elementos, novas variáveis. Tentas congelar memórias futuras através do olhar eternizado pela câmara. Há quem perca a cabeça, há quem precise de um segundo par de pernas para nos acompanhar. Mas estamos sempre do lado de cá, escondidos atrás de uma lente. <br />"Toda a esperança que tinhas voou-te, mas tu és-me e eu sou-te!"portografiashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02745263166355892663noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2960322752911209799.post-10574155534311177072007-06-28T06:38:00.000-07:002007-07-01T01:08:22.113-07:00A SURPRESA DO INSTANTE<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhftOFa0zun8dM7Zej5wJl7nywt1oedeMCc0zaAEctzrZi_08yCJjp8lPdcEyC4CGEQr0PW7S5YioT5GZvjBGrgHvvWhe-m3AmRXvUJb-7WQZ7DSNS_vm5koTbQtwclQmIOq0ls3tPzORM/s1600-h/Pedro1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhftOFa0zun8dM7Zej5wJl7nywt1oedeMCc0zaAEctzrZi_08yCJjp8lPdcEyC4CGEQr0PW7S5YioT5GZvjBGrgHvvWhe-m3AmRXvUJb-7WQZ7DSNS_vm5koTbQtwclQmIOq0ls3tPzORM/s400/Pedro1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5081110812363820914" /></a>Junho 2007, Porto<br /><br />Que esta imagem seja a primeira de muitas e um porto de partida para mostrar o nosso olhar da realidade. Que sirva de inspiração, divina ou angélica, para trabalhar mais e melhor, para divertir, fotografar e partilhar outros pontos de vista. <br />"Se podes observar, vê. E se conseguires ver, repara!"portografiashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02745263166355892663noreply@blogger.com0