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.
Yesterday I was at the Guggenheim Bilbao experiencing Richard Serra’s Exhibition The matter of Time. The forms are strong and imposing, allowing us to feel and experience space in a new way. What was unexpected, to me, is the way the forms are delicate and subtil, despite their rough appearance.
Serra discovered what is now known as his sculptural language, when, one day, he got annoyed with his own creations ( which at the time consisted mainly of abstract paintings) and threw them all away, burning them to ashes by a river. It was his way of setting himself free (free from pre-conceptions, judgments, expectations and many other conditions). From then on he began to ‘play’ with forms in space.
” I think if you want to make art, at some point you have to suspend judgment, and you have to involve yourself with play and not worry about the outcome.” Richard Serra
Mosteiro de Alcobaca is a world Heritage Unesco site, and it is a an architectural wonder filled with a mystical feeling that is exuded from every carved detail on stone. It holds the tombs of D.Pedro and D. Ines de Castro, ( the greatest love story ever) which I explained here. Whenever I am around the area I always go back to feel this unique wonder. Here are some pictures.
The Berber museum is housed in the building that used to be Jacque Majorelle art studio, (adjacent to the Jardin Majorelle) and presents Pierre Bergé and Yves Saint Laurent’s personal collection of the Berber’s culture to the public. Pierre Bergé specially was fascinated with the Berber’s culture and art, and over the years, he collected their art in his travels throughout the different countries where they can be found. The exhibition itself was organised in three parts: the know-how (bowls and other ordinary objects), the art (specially the jewellry) and the clothing. They were true craftsmen, and they created everything they needed with an intricacy and delicacy that still astounds today. What profoundly amazed me were the jewel collection, which were truly ostentatious and exuberant. All made of silver, using chiselling, filigree and many other techniques with stones and small gems. They were an expression of the social status of the woman who wore them… one can imagine the strength and the nobility it granted them. Truly magnificent. I was forbidden to take pictures, so the cover photo is all I managed to get. (Ahaha). However, I found some pictures online of the jewels…
‘’ The Berbers, are among the original peoples of North Africa. Their myths, legends and history span 9,000 years, and can be traced to the Proto-Mediterraneans. They have achieved unity by maintaining their unique language and culture which are, like their land, both African and Mediterranean.’’ Source
I am an unshaken rock,
A bird flying in the stream of light,
The glistening starry water in the endless ocean,
A thread of life so deep,
A glimpse of hope so vast,
Nothing and no one shakes me,
I am everything I want to be.
I am an ever-changing heaven,
The shifting of the leafs of the forest,
The glowing of the sparkling moon,
What revolves in my dancing heart,
What defines me, articulates me,
Is but the endless love that thrives up the world,
I am everything I knew I could be.
I am a goddess forgotten in time,
The trails of immortality that never quiver,
The paths of forever that don’t ever burn,
Born in a trapped decade, I am always free.
What is inside me, is only mine to fully see,
But it belongs to the world and not to me,
I am everything that will always become.
As artists, as writers, as creators, we have to heal and dwell in every once of our hurting hearts and every fragment of our fluttering souls. That’s what creating is all about: feeling, processing, liberating, setting all those emotions free into the cold winter air. But for things to be set free, we must first linger in them, completely surrendering to the burning flames that come from within. That’s what the creative process is all about: understanding, bringing to light, dwelling in the magnetic pulls of everything that is yet to be known and felt. We long, we crave, we give, we bleed, we love, we dream, we bleed some more and we surrender. And then, once we feel like some truth has finally been set free into the world, like some fragment of significance has finally been surrendered to the universe, just when we feel like we can rest in our own sweet happy tears, we realise how incredibly mistaken we are and we have to do it all over again. It’s a constant push and pull, an endless struggle between the inner depths of imagination and the harsh restraints of the real world, because no matter how good or bad that significance may be, the fluttering butterfly inside our ribcage whispers: ‘ It can still be better… ‘. There is nothing greater, nothing more beautiful and nothing more sacred than this endless hurt of beauty creators find themselves in. That’s why we do it. That’s why we dare to dwell in the darkness and fly in the shining heavens. It is an alchemy, a soft magic, a dazzling metamorphosis… a sacred gift of life itself.
Paula Rego Etching: Picture taken on Sunday at Casa das Histórias, Cascais.