Architecture, art, travel

An art installation in Bordeaux. 

This art installation, named Le miroir de l’eau, placed across from Place de la Bourse and designed by landscape artist Michel Corajoud is composed of about 2 cm of water which alternates in depth and rhythm, creating beautiful reflections of the heavens, the architecture and the children whom run around as if they are walking on clouds. I’m pretty sure the pictures on my Leica are muchhhh better… when I get home. 

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Fiction

Twin souls. 

He offered her the whole world. ‘ No thank you… ‘ She said as she walked away. She could get the world herself, in time… what she was looking for was something much deeper than any gift could ever seduce, lure or buy. She was waiting for that one special person in the whole world that echoed a love so true it made her whole soul vibrate and flutter into completion. 

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Fiction, Uncategorized

Fiction: Learning to fly.

If Celine was faith and lived a life flying in the heavens… then Christopher was reason, deeply grounded on earth. But maybe, just maybe, he wondered, she could teach him how to fly.

 


 

Se a Celine era esperança e vivia a vida em voos deambulantes pelos céus … então o Christopher era a razão, profundamente enraizado na terra.  Mas talvez, pensava ele, talvez, ela pudesse ensiná-lo a voar.

 

Extract from a soon to be novel.
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Fiction

Fiction: Unique languages.

They both smiled.  It was good to connect, in thoughts, in feelings, in words… in life. They sort of spoke the same language… A language that was only theirs. They read between the silences, and listened to what was not being said, intuitively responding effortlessly.   (…) she understood, for the very first time, that whatever was growing between them seemed to be indeed, incredibly special.

 


 

Ambos sorriram.  Era bom ter esta ligação em pensamentos,  sentimentos,  palavras… e na vida.  Eles quase que falavam a mesma linguagem… Uma linguagem só deles.   Conseguiam ler por entre os silêncios, e ouviam o que não era dito,  respondendo instintivamente  e sem qualquer esforço.  (…) assim, percebeu pela primeira vez,  que o que crescia entre eles, parecia ser de facto, algo incrivelmente especial.

 

Extract from a soon to be novel.

Painting above is by Chagall: details here.  

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poetry

A poem: A dream of love.

Couldn’t you hear me calling?

Awake in dreams, wandering free. 

I knew in my heart that it was true. 

That you were mine, and that I was yours. 

Just as the sun revolves in heaven,

As the dawn always breaks,

As the birds forever sing. 

So it is true that you are in me, 

And I am always in you. 

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