Saturday, 23rd of September 2017

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I’ve been reading some poems from the Sophia de Mello B. Andersen, she writes ethereally about the sea and life. Her poems makes us part of this immense world of magical sea creatures, sparkling corals, colorful shells and bubbling deep waters of the sea. I wish I could have more time to write, to be close to nature, to get in touch with myself that I am lately. This is causing me a terribly damage on my emotion state, my late work stoles all my energy and I just feel like sleeping every time I am returning home.      Lately, I am in-between of everything.

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Where are you going, Little Princess?

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                                                                                        7th of September 2016

Dear Diary,

This morning, memories of my infancy flood through my eyes  – my grandfather appeared to me with his tenderness and I heard him call for me: “Little Princess, where are you going?”. I was less than 5 years old, my feet were small and fragile. Around me was the little paradise raised by my grandmother and grandfather’s hands. A vivid bougainvillea climbed through the walls with gracefulness: it was so immense and so utterly beautiful to gaze it. Peaceful I was in those days, I was part of everything and I wasn’t apart from nothing. I was fearless and pure. I didn’t felt emptiness or loneliness because I was bounded to a secret imaterial world where such a thing didn’t exist. Those days of joy where my grandfather father’s hand was still reachable are felt today with affection and nostalgia.

My new Moleskine

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 So again, I fall into temptation and bought another little notebook, I have already so many, but I can’t hold myself when I see stationeries, paper or notebooks. This one is from Moleskine. It is so pretty, I love the old rose cover and the way it is bound, it seems bound in a sort of japanese binding style. And this is a plus: it opens perfectly flat, I hate when you can’t seem to open it properly. I simply love it! Here is a page of scraps and words.

This Tiny Melancholy

“Who hasn’t felt this melancholy, this tiny thing whose origin is unknown to me.”

Poem by Jorge Barbosa, Momento.

Versão Original em português:

Quem aqui não sentiu
esta nossa
fininha melancolia?

(…)

Esta nossa
fininha melancolia
que vem não sei de onde.
Um pouco talvez
das horas solitárias
passando sobre a ilha
ou da música
do mar defronte
entoando
uma canção rumorosa
musicada com os ecos do mundo.

Poema Momento de Jorge Barbosa.

Letter to Vibeke

 

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The Lucky Clover

Yesterday was being a normal day for me, until I’ve found this four-leaf clover among the plain ones. This discovery reflected a smile on my face and I must confess that it is the first lucky clover that I’ve found in my whole life… I am feeling very powerful right now, and to preserve it, I decided to place it inside of my nature journal.