tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24166185658502285672024-02-19T14:03:51.851+00:00AR|T|Equando o nosso ar é arte.....
...inspiramos e entramos em mundos paralelosAR|T|Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00670416236236535784noreply@blogger.comBlogger18125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2416618565850228567.post-79241457654068258972009-03-22T21:45:00.002+00:002009-03-22T21:48:52.997+00:00<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi29bQafpLdaqnx7WBUlRbXzjKhIwAZhKC0RtYsVK6CBUVIKPnNvW6sX19omit9m7gwkEaFOYuPmImU8www-N3lK0Gjd0ZZLepZ8C3X0qXR-rq3hW0pt8o8nZi2xCb239auRlPDIjGD2irC/s1600-h/30.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316131765855688194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 376px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi29bQafpLdaqnx7WBUlRbXzjKhIwAZhKC0RtYsVK6CBUVIKPnNvW6sX19omit9m7gwkEaFOYuPmImU8www-N3lK0Gjd0ZZLepZ8C3X0qXR-rq3hW0pt8o8nZi2xCb239auRlPDIjGD2irC/s400/30.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> é urgente apaixonar-me por algum artista,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">senão este blog vai por água abaixo,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">algumas sugestões?<br /></span></div>maggie thttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03186221372279066269noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2416618565850228567.post-73394727985813750752008-09-02T00:13:00.010+01:002008-09-02T00:50:18.598+01:00<span style="font-family:courier new;"><blockquote><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span></blockquote><blockquote><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span></blockquote>*<br /><blockquote></blockquote>Depois de férias retemperadoras,</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">passadas em locais dispares e desconhecidos,</span><br /></span><div align="justify"><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">íntimos e secretos,</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Courier New;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:courier new;">elas foram chamadas.</span></div><div align="justify"><br /></div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center">Pelo cantar sereno do pardal a noticia foi entregue.</div><div align="center"><br /><br /><br /></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:courier new;">Era altura,</span></div><p align="center"><span style="font-family:courier new;">estava no momento,</span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:courier new;">os astros confirmavam a data.</span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:courier new;">Voando céus a fora,</span></p><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241196938436145378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWFqRcgm24hqRZXIqF_4erM_md8SYoqPjAVtxdUURZxvM2_SXcPZBoYPQbihYpnYw0sgw054B1eLKgXYgXz-3S2IyWQxg1-kKhw8aBg1LcSVJrVYz7KOWmVtQAH-8Wf3aHljHFHX4e58Cw/s400/s2_2.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:courier new;">cavalgando as ondas rebeldes,</span></div><p align="center"><span style="font-family:courier new;"><br /></span><span style="font-family:courier new;">trilhando os caminhos da terra,</span></p><p align="center"></p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241197241866222114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEwzolwnQaG8E_dhbEWbvL68HWf37UidFurWQHE32LiKx38Jig7YKLcfNjyTsnTVcyoREUWnq3f8H3bD52Q4FsMZx22Zyq1fH8-J_8DG5wD0HHYAWGPwd6Nwr5sYPnz3I6bVQYWctAFvgB/s400/smallapril7.jpg" border="0" /> <p align="center"><br /><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">elas foram chegando aos poucos, grão a grão,</span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">e cada uma delas trazia o seu contributo tão próprio e pessoal.</span> </p><p align="center">*<br /><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">A mais prendada e delicada trouxe o chá, os bolos e a compota de frutos</span><br /><br /><br /></p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241196389707083378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuD19EtjoUKs4NVJgEoEFiOvEOBXHaxS7bqwoQ7qjZ0ck46NWCKn1DDYHtj_crgWcSHccRLNn2I7WjC4i9Hnd5ZScX0KvS9wMRlVDdWcnaXaCx57b25go53WnP51cjgTFSgpNbhd4pm-nw/s400/fi14small.jpg" border="0" /> <p align="center"> ...<span style="font-family:courier new;"> mais selvagem e irreverente o bando dos seus pássaros cantores, para serenar o ambiente...</span><br /></p><div align="center"><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span></div><div align="justify"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241196807376615458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN4oaFaOM2wasDbzibPVzAzNw0MLLrA_MbojCfmmsFRRGvoOc0z8hDyZucClfxLacDKjtW_zIfQAZswbWlkthG9hNd-H9ODpJDp8zsl-bxnXHeH9n6ci6EtgTV43K5JQNJM3CIdX8UcT-2/s400/s1.jpg" border="0" /><span style="font-family:courier new;">....e assim se juntaram para a fatídica comunicação a fazer pela porta - voz.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:courier new;">Quando todas estavam reunidas e confortávelmemte sentadas ela, a anciã das penas mais velhas, chegou, poisou, sorriu, acenou, e disse:</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:courier new;">- é hora, esta na hora.<br /><br /></span></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241197079255534690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBLKoSYauJY9zucZJZNDsoivzLyiBnotNlcfxclfjXX1hV6FE5PtQf1dbCKV1pP5hx5wAOtuAoMSpLIPyvSWvqeDpWT6c6UguanDETqEaiaINoM-qjS2AX_6ADJjysnKNS41KtU-UFDB6Z/s400/s3.jpg" border="0" /><span style="font-family:courier new;">- o mundo está no ponto de caos pretendido para resultar na mudança planeada,</span> <span style="font-family:courier new;">está na altura de encarnarem e levarem ao mundo e aos homens os vossos presentes e a vossa ajuda, está na hora da grande mudança, está na hora do Apocalipse antes do renascimento.</span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">Vão, ajudem, façam o vosso trabalho de destruição e criação, e não olhem para trás.<br />Caminhem, executem, cumpram o destino traçado.....</span><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241197382755573266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE2Ygs_DurxN_86f5_53_aI1WHMZD5dwArOExGyDShKNdaYhLxFlGLkWrzN9fJBilUDwR0qMx8_D927kcPFvSprRVA2OMQ2mOBk_HBUfwg3VT67NnNAUlDtw2oXcn8UJPid1CSnQeHAWiw/s400/sweets_smalla.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:courier new;">e assim partiram para mais uma missão no plano terreno.....</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Courier New;"></span></div><div align="center"><blockquote><div align="center"></div></blockquote><blockquote><div align="center"></div></blockquote><span style="font-family:Courier New;">aRte by : <span style="color:#ff6600;">art & ghosts</span></span></div>maggie thttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03186221372279066269noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2416618565850228567.post-75990586874940132372008-06-19T02:38:00.004+01:002008-06-19T02:43:35.739+01:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRlHCaYhcHea4B12lp94NPj6MtrGPGt4Nu4u9uK-1zqSazQ9WeBh5Wj6j32UOyvgY2WAB7529wik10V6TUT8TMebiBV7RNZdF1pjErSZp3Cfr4aV10fK0NL7tpMLTvdu6uGjvkzOmKmTru/s1600-h/doomed+james+joyce.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5213401150257757826" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRlHCaYhcHea4B12lp94NPj6MtrGPGt4Nu4u9uK-1zqSazQ9WeBh5Wj6j32UOyvgY2WAB7529wik10V6TUT8TMebiBV7RNZdF1pjErSZp3Cfr4aV10fK0NL7tpMLTvdu6uGjvkzOmKmTru/s400/doomed+james+joyce.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:verdana;">De repente, deram-me as saudades e voltei!</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:verdana;">E descobri, </span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:verdana;">para minha grande surpresa, </span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:verdana;">que não era a única com tal sentimento...</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:verdana;">we are not dommed!</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:verdana;">seja! </span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:verdana;">voltarei! </span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:verdana;">prometido e selado!</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><blockquote><span style="font-family:Verdana;"></span></blockquote><blockquote><span style="font-family:Verdana;"></span></blockquote><em><strong>arte by</strong></em>....James Joyce</span></div><div align="center"></div>maggie thttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03186221372279066269noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2416618565850228567.post-74557606004800035732008-06-19T02:24:00.005+01:002008-06-19T02:43:58.256+01:00<blockquote></blockquote><blockquote><br /> </blockquote><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIaMsKyiVfz-FDZeCKQKwJeAR7lNix7V5pLqOonKajHtqAJLF2t3vThQebTtFVMAj16geMCN9bsH7g_JvwyC8qHtP_-YzCAmDZjNQRRWEh336MBM0Y9Woqyhw-Dz3Wh3fry1PkL4NsjPaB/s1600-h/mariaboavida2.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5213399763000185570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIaMsKyiVfz-FDZeCKQKwJeAR7lNix7V5pLqOonKajHtqAJLF2t3vThQebTtFVMAj16geMCN9bsH7g_JvwyC8qHtP_-YzCAmDZjNQRRWEh336MBM0Y9Woqyhw-Dz3Wh3fry1PkL4NsjPaB/s400/mariaboavida2.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><span style="font-family:verdana;">Nestas calçadas me perco e nestas calçadas me encontro..</span></div><br /><br /><div><span style="font-family:verdana;">cruzo as esquinas desta cidade </span><span style="font-family:verdana;">procurando-me</span></div><br /><br /><div><span style="font-family:verdana;">encontro reflexos de partículas minhas no espelho rio que me persegue</span></div><br /><br /><div><span style="font-family:verdana;">caminho ao som das notas de Lisboa que se soltam de gargantas sofredores</span></div><br /><br /><div><span style="font-family:verdana;">descubro caminhos, vielas e travessas a cada instante da existência</span></div><br /><br /><div><span style="font-family:verdana;">Noites de embalos suaves e risadas estridentes</span></div><br /><br /><div><span style="font-family:verdana;">dias de alvoroço cansado e suor salgado</span></div><br /><br /><div><span style="font-family:verdana;">E em todas as esquinas os raios de luz me encontram</span></div><br /><br /><div><span style="font-family:verdana;">em todas as esquinas reencontro o rio, reflexo da minha alma</span></div><br /><br /><div><span style="font-family:verdana;">Nesta cidade me perco, nesta cidade me encontro, em todos os segundos da minha vida....</span></div><br /><br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5213399987500506994" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiES1AsLjD0ydE3b3PyD9RFjuh1RrWknuonl6cOKJWt8UVuppUwJAY4EWnvo3SqS_E9EvEIAme-1ETLw6tVGyVXfF1wPN2k4_iuvGI0JITgpzdubUr130fNtIcq6guh5pAfolSw13M_-DpN/s400/LIS5.jpg" border="0" /></div><br /><br /><p></p><p align="center"><span style="color:#ff9900;">arte in "le cool"</span></p>maggie thttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03186221372279066269noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2416618565850228567.post-91879272058297881642007-09-12T00:33:00.000+01:002007-09-12T01:03:24.056+01:00<div><br /><br /><div align="left"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4Ihomb8w4A22HF5fSk8LniI8JawUQudwe4kEGtq1Ib_JNtovg5ubOSEKsKEJyPK8bRZuwph54OEv0ZOvcW66QG01hC3jBzH-Cq8UVaKFs_wjYghIwD6JHgdbGGvP9dOll9JRHNecXDfmf/s1600-h/06_Overkill_edited.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5109094235185343506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4Ihomb8w4A22HF5fSk8LniI8JawUQudwe4kEGtq1Ib_JNtovg5ubOSEKsKEJyPK8bRZuwph54OEv0ZOvcW66QG01hC3jBzH-Cq8UVaKFs_wjYghIwD6JHgdbGGvP9dOll9JRHNecXDfmf/s400/06_Overkill_edited.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:georgia;">considerando que, o homem é um animal</span></div><br /><br /><div align="left"><span style="font-family:georgia;">considerando que, o homem é o animal mais <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">mortífero</span> do planeta</span></div><br /><br /><div align="left"><span style="font-family:georgia;">considerando que, o homem é o único animal que mata os da sua própria espécie</span></div><br /><br /><div align="left"><span style="font-family:georgia;">considerando que, apesar disto tudo o homem raciocina, pensa e tem emoções</span></div><br /><br /><div align="left"><span style="font-family:georgia;">considerando que, o homem tem em "cima" milhares de anos de evolução</span></div><br /><br /><div align="left"><span style="font-family:georgia;">considerando que, o homem já passou por muito sofrimento nas milhares de guerras que provocou, instigou e participou...</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></div><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;">será que há menos guerras agora do que antes?</span></div><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;">será que algum dia vai deixar de guerrear?</span></div><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;">será que algum dia vai deixar de ter instintos de morte</span></div><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;">será que algum dia vai resolver as suas diferenças só na base do diálogo?</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;">será que há esperança?</span></div><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5109101111427984434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBu6Z_lCNhr_WTOZ5Qg7iIrmyLgwC_t7OWnlZa7qQX3KXcdJIcivwrLwz0Cu0fF4rT6jSzTLvreap4PGDA9y2fZ4-pQFeZvOj1FIFNtlUwhTQGsmEchjh7fc85yrMbiwdePcO1o6WR0mgy/s400/mermaidandsoldier+carla+gannis_edited.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div align="center"></div><br /><div align="center"></div><div align="center">ARTE <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">by</span> Carla <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Gannis</span></div><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></div></div>maggie thttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03186221372279066269noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2416618565850228567.post-78105418013229185552007-08-27T21:02:00.000+01:002007-08-27T21:42:25.454+01:00<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkvgeyLugS21Dk5Ft2koUEZ8bmd3rvFvpv8feMiiq8MDawiSaMdUxmUcKhrTdWtoXfavvarN4wJ8Oa6Ztz8tGkkw-p8nZe_CyH-HxxAz1nJ0a3F1fzcUqqfA6_fLOthaDudHQcsrxEMzfd/s1600-h/2.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5103473621938465778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkvgeyLugS21Dk5Ft2koUEZ8bmd3rvFvpv8feMiiq8MDawiSaMdUxmUcKhrTdWtoXfavvarN4wJ8Oa6Ztz8tGkkw-p8nZe_CyH-HxxAz1nJ0a3F1fzcUqqfA6_fLOthaDudHQcsrxEMzfd/s400/2.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff0000;"> Ainda a banhos,</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff0000;">vimos aqui ao nosso espacinho,</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff0000;">de sorriso rasgado</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff0000;">e orgulho no peito</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff0000;">agradecer a honra que nos foi dispensada pelo Triliti star (<a href="http://qsarilho.blogspot.com/">http://qsarilho.blogspot.com/</a>)</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff0000;">Muito nos honra com este prémio,</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff0000;">Um milhão de Obrigados!</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"></span></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5103475528903945218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHDRX2QAv2HLz-mYwqKEl3tpCnKuz5B5agEfAmpemLGbTaw-02J8B_7F7Ek-B8M3SWrg8Qt2DHfAx-tzNlIdp2_k2bYUbh6o1ReoVr9ORLEGL7FtrePYhyphenhyphennd_if1vr8a1GMVvzcmHS0Ffs/s400/certificado%25252Bcalimera.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff0000;">Agora, e segundo o que percebemos,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff0000;">vamos ter que premiar 5 blogs com o mesmo prémio,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff0000;">e esta sim, vai ser uma tarefa difícil!</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff0000;">A maioria dos blogs de que somos fãs </span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff0000;">e no quais estamos viciadas,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff0000;">já foram premiados...</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff0000;">Enfim...</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff0000;">Esperando não cometer nenhuma injustiça</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span style="color:#ff0000;">aqui fica a lista dos premiados pelo ARtE <blockquote></blockquote></span></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff6666;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff0000;">* intruso »</span><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff0000;"> <a href="http://-intruso.blogspot.com/"><span style="color:#cc9933;">http://-intruso.blogspot.com/</span></a> <blockquote></blockquote></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span style="color:#cc9933;"><span style="color:#ff0000;">* xá »</span> </span><a href="http://xa-das-5.blogspot.com/"><span style="color:#cc9933;">http://xa-das-5.blogspot.com/</span></a> <blockquote></blockquote></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span style="color:#cc9933;"><span style="color:#ff0000;">* j.h. »</span> </span><a href="http://aruexperienced.blogspot.com/"><span style="color:#cc9933;">http://aruexperienced.blogspot.com/</span></a> <blockquote></blockquote></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span style="color:#cc9933;"><span style="color:#ff0000;">* o estranho »</span> </span><a href="http://oestranho.blogspot.com/"><span style="color:#cc9933;">http://oestranho.blogspot.com/</span></a> <blockquote></blockquote></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff0000;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff0000;">.....fica um prémio por atribuir</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff0000;">estamos num dilema,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff0000;">quando decidirmos,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff0000;">postamos! <blockquote></blockquote></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff0000;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#cc9933;">art by : Jean Marie Boomputte</span><br /></div><span style="color:#ff0000;"></span>maggie thttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03186221372279066269noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2416618565850228567.post-62119704579019287672007-08-01T03:04:00.000+01:002007-08-04T20:53:29.848+01:00shocking... or maybe not!<div align="justify"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWdkVmnLvjxfIZYwEniooGR1FVoNJ9vNS6dH5ovFGsSrmdUmqnj7pyYS_Uej0Lor12FdwMqdjGE5wpg_92BDNKfQW0z3c0IJ_dVGOcNhki2vgBO8jIEObs4fGs5Pnsht4HmEWEpy30X3ar/s1600-h/banksy_cops_ladbroke_grove.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093552704681869250" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWdkVmnLvjxfIZYwEniooGR1FVoNJ9vNS6dH5ovFGsSrmdUmqnj7pyYS_Uej0Lor12FdwMqdjGE5wpg_92BDNKfQW0z3c0IJ_dVGOcNhki2vgBO8jIEObs4fGs5Pnsht4HmEWEpy30X3ar/s400/banksy_cops_ladbroke_grove.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:verdana;"> <span style="color:#66cccc;">Assim é <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Banksy</span>, um dos artistas plásticos da U.K., mais conhecidos dos tempos correntes, mas que ao mesmo tempo é um perfeito desconhecido, ninguém sabe o seu nome verdadeiro.</span></span></div><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#66cccc;">Um belo dia, um <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">típico</span> dono de bar <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">british</span>, vai andando calmamente na rua, em direcção ao seu bar, quando dá de caras com este <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">graffiti</span> numa das paredes exteriores da sua propriedade.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#66cccc;">Ficou furioso, escandalizado, uma grande pintura de dois homens policias a beijarem-se na boca, foi demais para ele.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#66cccc;">Tratou de arranjar quem lhe limpasse ou pintasse a parede, que aquilo era uma vergonha sem tamanho!</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#66cccc;">Passado uns tempos quando soube de quem era tal <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">graffiti</span>, a história mudou de figura, e disse aos operários que tinha contratado, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">stopppppppppp</span>!<br />A partir desse dia encheu-se de orgulho do "seu" mural, e desde essa altura o volume de negócio triplicou com as visitas sucessivas <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">àquele</span> canto e paragens no bar para refrescar a garganta.<br /></span></div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0USCcUJIRx-EmUdW_VjV0tGysuJvaMBeAK5670kiz9-l1T9cLb3Wz5NSC_jhXOCV3ZkKwQhSDyjQ_kbWcI4bj1QqFmdgRPH3rIa8B57qlqZNhY3WEaLy-NY-VJBmpFVusuhdtK6tpu3ol/s1600-h/Banksy.in.bristols.park.street.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093552111976382386" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0USCcUJIRx-EmUdW_VjV0tGysuJvaMBeAK5670kiz9-l1T9cLb3Wz5NSC_jhXOCV3ZkKwQhSDyjQ_kbWcI4bj1QqFmdgRPH3rIa8B57qlqZNhY3WEaLy-NY-VJBmpFVusuhdtK6tpu3ol/s400/Banksy.in.bristols.park.street.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"><span style="color:#66cccc;"> </span><span style="color:#66cccc;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Nada que <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Banksy</span> faz é isento e não intencional.<br /></span><br /><br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxIWX5I0UMOI62AjfYHxKzL7O1At1pdJ_KWapaDlt9NYj-CbqGixb0N6Ag6Sd2U485_UxrkLntWSEz_-Vk_9YusqJ_kuSb1QXpbcjoUrq15LgYDmISV4QT3id6F8ZQFd1UvzuTYjOEtSFJ/s1600-h/banksy+media.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093550909385539490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxIWX5I0UMOI62AjfYHxKzL7O1At1pdJ_KWapaDlt9NYj-CbqGixb0N6Ag6Sd2U485_UxrkLntWSEz_-Vk_9YusqJ_kuSb1QXpbcjoUrq15LgYDmISV4QT3id6F8ZQFd1UvzuTYjOEtSFJ/s400/banksy+media.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#66cccc;"><br />Tudo tem uma mensagem bem directa e explicita.<br /><br /><br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsI4Q0ncMLJUne21z22EXYe95mhZeodrzx1T7RYX7DsWNIUYus15f1_UCSQam5y-bG_NlG7vJQp6iFnaGePin9FmESgG0HA-V-q2Cj2w8646oWXdKnjMJde9ANWG5Mtndv55qSDv4pW16A/s1600-h/banksy+feeling5.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093550643097567122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsI4Q0ncMLJUne21z22EXYe95mhZeodrzx1T7RYX7DsWNIUYus15f1_UCSQam5y-bG_NlG7vJQp6iFnaGePin9FmESgG0HA-V-q2Cj2w8646oWXdKnjMJde9ANWG5Mtndv55qSDv4pW16A/s400/banksy+feeling5.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#66cccc;"><br /><br />A intenção é clara, despertar, alertar, chocar e mexer com as pessoas.<br /><br /><br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8tgORdfiI9u3AR3uM7FV6g666antBtSIpXcvH2SRzzM8VPO8iAMvFhBqsZu6AcS4NKd1scVoTggnCS0k8sgCNHEJQxO1n2Pc6ZjM5q88N66YLfXqoBW1tIoQ3cmxrKiHJSDW6PXOs_ms1/s1600-h/banksy+car.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093550454119006082" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8tgORdfiI9u3AR3uM7FV6g666antBtSIpXcvH2SRzzM8VPO8iAMvFhBqsZu6AcS4NKd1scVoTggnCS0k8sgCNHEJQxO1n2Pc6ZjM5q88N66YLfXqoBW1tIoQ3cmxrKiHJSDW6PXOs_ms1/s400/banksy+car.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#66cccc;"><br />Tudo nele tem uma consciência politica e social.<br /><br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOmCCrtnhGugdr1AljIh61YdKVMualq_ujJ0UfMzNcqj3OXCMuXA1jMVh2OFhZvM6q0qHznJoiiULVhsADBATcMMRRzAmDbOgrN8M9J1cMiZ0i9X1DsPIXj8Ph6nT1fLCJ9EAPgfajpUuy/s1600-h/banksy+feedtheworld2.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093549698204761970" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOmCCrtnhGugdr1AljIh61YdKVMualq_ujJ0UfMzNcqj3OXCMuXA1jMVh2OFhZvM6q0qHznJoiiULVhsADBATcMMRRzAmDbOgrN8M9J1cMiZ0i9X1DsPIXj8Ph6nT1fLCJ9EAPgfajpUuy/s400/banksy+feedtheworld2.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#66cccc;">Mas no meio da dureza do seu sentir,</span></div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#66cccc;"> o humor acutilante é, sem dúvida, dos melhores já vistos.<br />Aconselha-se o conhecimento da obra deste ilustre desconhecido.<br /><br /></span><div> </div></div></div></div><br /></div>maggie thttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03186221372279066269noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2416618565850228567.post-62694337073398500582007-07-24T21:42:00.000+01:002007-07-24T21:50:57.389+01:00<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju9To3vua67gKKtOrNyiNo0fUsYA6IZoBaPcUlm5QOI2fYd7BOkRnLVMZebzx9zuP3gST1sXWHrB7__uddNnavibQVGjmUFgtfgUW11VcwtLFqUxqNdFyOU8bWxo1AtKdmD1hoTBHbXVxA/s1600-h/jay+fontano+-+no+service.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5090867628567363426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju9To3vua67gKKtOrNyiNo0fUsYA6IZoBaPcUlm5QOI2fYd7BOkRnLVMZebzx9zuP3gST1sXWHrB7__uddNnavibQVGjmUFgtfgUW11VcwtLFqUxqNdFyOU8bWxo1AtKdmD1hoTBHbXVxA/s400/jay+fontano+-+no+service.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"> (imagem de jay fontano)<br /></span><br /></div><p align="center"><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff6666;">Nopes,</span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff6666;">nem nós estamos velhas</span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff6666;">nem despidas</span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff6666;">muito menos sem inspiração.</span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff6666;">Falta, </span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff6666;">o tempo</span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff6666;">e a ferramenta,</span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff6666;">o belo do portátil.</span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff6666;">Quando isto estiver resolvido,</span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff6666;">muito há para postar,</span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff6666;">e bem intenso.</span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff6666;">Para breve...</span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff6666;"></span> </p>maggie thttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03186221372279066269noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2416618565850228567.post-9326324822166843502007-06-25T15:11:00.000+01:002007-06-25T18:13:17.630+01:00última ceia....<div align="justify"><span style="color:#33ccff;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Aceitámos o desafio do capitão haddock, </span><span style="font-family:verdana;">e pusemos toda a nossa arte, espírito e empenho </span><span style="font-family:verdana;">na concretização do nosso projecto culinário.</span></span></div><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#33ccff;">Pesquisámos, andámos perdidas na cidade e no campo a inspirarmos odores, cores e sabores, e chegamos a uma ementa verdadeiramente artística, saborosa e original.</span></div><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#33ccff;">Assim, e sem mais demoras, passamos a apresentar a nossa maravilhosa, e bonita última ceia.</span></div><br /><div align="justify">*</div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:180%;color:#cc0000;">Entrada</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Courier New;font-size:180%;color:#cc0000;">*<span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#33ccff;">Bruscheta com mozzarella de búfala, </span></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Courier New;color:#cc0000;"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#33ccff;">tomate cerise, </span></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Courier New;color:#cc0000;"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#33ccff;">manjericão </span></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Courier New;color:#cc0000;"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#33ccff;">e azeite de trufas,</span></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Courier New;color:#cc0000;"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#33ccff;">e pão de mistura alentejano.</span></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#33ccff;"></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:180%;color:#cc0000;">Prato de peixe</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Courier New;font-size:180%;color:#cc0000;">*<span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#33ccff;">Lagosta gratinada com bananas fritas</span></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#33ccff;"></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:180%;color:#cc0000;">Prato de carne</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#33ccff;"><span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:180%;color:#cc0000;">*</span> <span style="font-size:85%;">Picanha grelhada </span></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#33ccff;">em cama de legumes cozidos ao vapor </span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#33ccff;">com molho de morango</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#33ccff;"></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:180%;color:#cc0000;">Doces</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#33ccff;"><span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:180%;color:#cc0000;">*</span><span style="font-size:85%;">Farófias de groselha em paus de canela</span></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#33ccff;"><span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:180%;color:#cc0000;">*</span><span style="font-size:85%;">Doce guloso de oreos de chocolate negro, </span></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#33ccff;">natas </span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#33ccff;">e leite condensado</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#33ccff;"></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:180%;color:#cc0000;">Bebidas</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#33ccff;"><span style="font-family:courier new;"><span style="font-size:180%;color:#cc0000;">*</span> </span><span style="font-size:85%;">Granizado de champagne</span></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#33ccff;"><span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:180%;color:#cc0000;">*</span> <span style="font-size:85%;">Sangria branca e frutos silvestres</span></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#33ccff;"><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="font-family:courier new;color:#cc0000;">*</span> </span><span style="font-size:85%;">Mojitos com menta marroquina</span></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#33ccff;">*</span></div><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#33ccff;">E foi esta a ementa elaborada para tão ilustre concurso, cujas linhas mestra foram a slow food e fusion com muita arte.</span></div><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#33ccff;">Depois de tudo planeado ao pormenor, ingredientes comprados País a fora, e nas melhores lojas gourmet, fomos para a cozinha....</span></div><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Verdana;"></span></div><br /><div align="justify"></div><br /><div align="justify"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_6X4kFqeG-pcy3Uc-jB54ganky6lJ58dZZDA5MPqgumyGJQR3M8yHHFE1S3sVOf7NSZQchX-xq-mx3TZETRl1wf1MaCoKTXQV-oLMebtwrU47iwZndAcFnMDGerIkY_4bdgFPD2W9_W8/s1600-h/torradeira.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5079817066176500226" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_6X4kFqeG-pcy3Uc-jB54ganky6lJ58dZZDA5MPqgumyGJQR3M8yHHFE1S3sVOf7NSZQchX-xq-mx3TZETRl1wf1MaCoKTXQV-oLMebtwrU47iwZndAcFnMDGerIkY_4bdgFPD2W9_W8/s400/torradeira.jpg" border="0" /></a> <span style="font-family:verdana;color:#33ccff;">Ligámos a torradeira para torrar as fatias de pão alentejano, preparando assim a caminha da bruscheta antes de ir ao forno. E a torradeira explodiu deitando faíscas por todos os cantos da cozinha. Um perigo, íamos morrendo electrocutadas.</span></div><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#33ccff;">Sem a ferramenta principal para a elaboração da nossa entrada, e sendo domingo, estando todas as lojas fechadas para comprar uma torradeira nova, avançámos para o prato de peixe deixando a entrada para depois.</span></div><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#33ccff;">Fomos ao cesto onde se encontravam as deliciosas bananas importadas da América do Sul, as melhores para fritar, qual não foi o nosso espanto quando constatamos que as mesmas tinham ganho vida.</span></div><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#33ccff;"></span><br /></div><br /><div align="justify"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij3ncKXjN1vFVzlnNy8KMdwEN28QnuBxAZp1cBA0_szyyJw1Kc3SfLJ3mRAUmsOD85P97itXXTDcKRH-cEgqn4A0ipj3Y-KjK4-uM8CtIiW3T-gzY85bsv_inII6wo0PsQu8ae_JkEVgs/s1600-h/bananas+daniela+edburg.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5079804447562584562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij3ncKXjN1vFVzlnNy8KMdwEN28QnuBxAZp1cBA0_szyyJw1Kc3SfLJ3mRAUmsOD85P97itXXTDcKRH-cEgqn4A0ipj3Y-KjK4-uM8CtIiW3T-gzY85bsv_inII6wo0PsQu8ae_JkEVgs/s400/bananas+daniela+edburg.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#33ccff;">Fomos atacadas por todos os lados. A casa encheu-se num ápice de bananas voadoras, qual filme de Hitchcock. Não fossem as magnificas vassouras da loja do chinês das esquina, e a esta hora não estávamos cá para contar a história.</span></div><p align="justify"><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#33ccff;">Achamos por bem esquecer as bananas fritas e ir preparar a maravilhosa lagosta vinda expressamente de Madagáscar.<br /></span><br /><br /></p><div align="justify"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixLR0sNRVO87WnwV964Kr0WABAfyafek99eNDoZbGdm2zcvsd97wxbYDAZ3JoTiRidlcRk_paFiFSq2p8DFxqf5PU6731BFe3Jx8EobSL96LhXmpkGlhOKEAnEM6ID16PGakD38L5ORw4/s1600-h/lagosta.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5079801913531879906" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixLR0sNRVO87WnwV964Kr0WABAfyafek99eNDoZbGdm2zcvsd97wxbYDAZ3JoTiRidlcRk_paFiFSq2p8DFxqf5PU6731BFe3Jx8EobSL96LhXmpkGlhOKEAnEM6ID16PGakD38L5ORw4/s400/lagosta.jpg" border="0" /></a> <span style="font-family:verdana;color:#33ccff;">Abrimos o frigorífico e de imediato a maldita lagosta estendeu os seus braços e agarrou-nos pelo pescoço, foi um sufoco. Não fosse o maravilhoso gato da casa e tínhamos morrido ali sufocadas. O valente felino mandou-se ao malévolo crustáceo de unhas e dentes e deu cabo dele.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#33ccff;">No entanto não sobrou nem um pedacinho da branca carne da lagosta, o gato come-a toda e lambeu os bigodes com tamanho repasto.<br /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#33ccff;">As coisas não estavam a correr bem, e algo de muito estranho se estava a passar naquela casa, mas como se costuma dizer, que não há duas sem três, e á terceira é de vez, pensamos que tudo o que poderia acontecer de errado já teria acontecido.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#33ccff;">O melhor seria prosseguir com os pratos que nos faltavam. Pusemos então a picanha já temperada a grelhar, os vegetais a cozer e fomos buscar os delicados morangos para fazer o divinal molho que ia acompanhar a carne.<br /></span><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilqjLjkAttA_D2SbNrZYHblTQEYdrWrKCOr_OfnbhCIN_wTtUNk8GJBjQHnQyZQw8p17idfuMB201fbHxFaDmQV6usaOUdEOdDTQFqrejO4i1P0i9MMuSSzvNi5r50NZRBXnB9XRQwuFQ/s1600-h/morangos+daniela+edburg.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5079801076013257170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilqjLjkAttA_D2SbNrZYHblTQEYdrWrKCOr_OfnbhCIN_wTtUNk8GJBjQHnQyZQw8p17idfuMB201fbHxFaDmQV6usaOUdEOdDTQFqrejO4i1P0i9MMuSSzvNi5r50NZRBXnB9XRQwuFQ/s400/morangos+daniela+edburg.jpg" border="0" /> <p align="justify"></a><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#33ccff;">Até hoje não sabemos o que poderá ter acontecido, quando fomos tirar os morangos das caixinhas, o celofane que as envolviam começou a crescer a crescer a crescer e a enrolar-se á volta dos nossos corpos. Na aflição de rasgarmos o plástico que nos apertava o corpo e nos sufocava, deixámos cair os morangos no chão e no fim da guerra contra o plástico, os morangos não eram senão uma grande papa no chão.<br /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#33ccff;">A cena era lastimável e a tristeza era muita, tínhamos agora o projecto quase todo arruinado, e sem nada para apresentar ao senhor capitão.</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#33ccff;">Olhamos para o nosso artístico menu e constatamos que só sobravam as sobremesas. Pensámos que se pelo menos conseguíssemos fazer a parte doce do menu não chegaríamos á ceia sem nada nas mãos, que seria melhor que nada.</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#33ccff;">E lá resolvemos fazer os doces.</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#33ccff;">As farófias de framboesa correram lindamente, depois de prontas estavam lindas e de sabor divinal.</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#33ccff;">Colocámos-as em grandes tabuleiro, e a sua visão era de facto uma maravilha, ficámos a apreciar a nossa primeira obra de arte culinária bem sucedida.</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#33ccff;">Mas quanto mais olhávamos, mais as farófias cresciam. Estranho acontecimento. Fomos verificar os ingredientes utilizados para confirmar se, por engano não teríamos usado uma farinha com fermento extra especial, mas a farinha não fazia parte da receita.<br /></span><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiSsWzTHysEgJhU5AH0zTrfI9VLJudW8Mfx7ilwPlpyaVkGmZZNRT6_13li0upuEs8aaeTa0-kM0n5QGPoWsGjhUHMiJkPZ4pmL88z2uPHmNmvKXXc8rcOl4IiNuQx6XVmnbwlkZouHcU/s1600-h/algodão+doce.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5079800509077574082" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiSsWzTHysEgJhU5AH0zTrfI9VLJudW8Mfx7ilwPlpyaVkGmZZNRT6_13li0upuEs8aaeTa0-kM0n5QGPoWsGjhUHMiJkPZ4pmL88z2uPHmNmvKXXc8rcOl4IiNuQx6XVmnbwlkZouHcU/s400/algod%C3%A3o+doce.jpg" border="0" /> <p align="justify"></a><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#33ccff;">Quando voltámos a olhar para as ditas, elas tinham ganho uma proporção assustadora e saiam dos tabuleiros onde as tínhamos colocado. Rapidamente lançaram-se em nossa perseguição.</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#33ccff;">Corremos para fora de casa a toda a velocidade. Foram tempos infinitos na correria da fuga, e quando demos por nós estávamos em pleno campo e perto do mar. Pensamos que a única solução de fuga seria o mar. E assim o fizemos, entramos na água rapidamente, e de facto as farófias em contacto com a água, dissolveram-se. </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#33ccff;">Em face do perigo corrido entrámos completamente em choque, não fora o mar a salvar-nos e teríamos morrido, teria sido uma morte doce, mas prematura, ainda tínhamos muitos anos de arte pela frente.</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#33ccff;">Fomos para casa combalidas e desanimadas, pingando da cabeça aos pés.</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#33ccff;">Tínhamos pacotes e pacotes de oreos na na cozinha, para o doce final, mas com a correria toda e a energia despendida, deu-nos uma fome brutal e atacámos os oreos sem apelo nem agravo.</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#33ccff;">E fomos comendo e comendo.<br /></span><br /><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs8fmJTKO8z_YQcdvIAWgzljJeyCW859TDUwVDeEZdwrDquwQvbjKs4o3YdFn4Jg03qHZs5KN7lnkIt085VB-85iNBMHyxQT51BgPFHMWiwWpAWCKPRuwplekQDIFH4yg6Y80wpA9OJqQ/s1600-h/dead+by+oreos.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5079797446765892018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs8fmJTKO8z_YQcdvIAWgzljJeyCW859TDUwVDeEZdwrDquwQvbjKs4o3YdFn4Jg03qHZs5KN7lnkIt085VB-85iNBMHyxQT51BgPFHMWiwWpAWCKPRuwplekQDIFH4yg6Y80wpA9OJqQ/s400/dead+by+oreos.jpg" border="0" /> <p align="justify"></a><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#33ccff;">Comemos tanto, que depois não nos conseguimos mexer mais, estávamos atoladas de doces, e de repente conseguimos entender a vontade compulsiva do bulimicos de provocar o vómito.</span><br /><br /><br /></p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5079819638861910546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCoUkb0XURbS55LVEXhWxeH40HPcCXs1CwKscEis7t7nNtTAAtHOhmDbc3MCueD-F6wtmljHFjOIdgPdEMsxzKB9v06ppG1Bh2BrQTj18Q4lsH78pX7eXFoHGuTPH-Jujjohh-ecKYD9s/s400/adormecer+na+cozinha.jpg" border="0" /> <p align="justify"><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#33ccff;">Cruzámos os braços, estávamos literalmente derreadas, sem forças para nada, atacadas por todos os ingredientes da última ceia, com a cozinha virada do avesso, com vestígios de comida por todos os cantos, sucumbimos. Nada mais havia a fazer.</span><br /><br /></p><div align="justify"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaJ3oe72SvUKrH2v-VGubq3bXr6qryWEMTBs3IrhDXSSQJI7vTzUzcQW_XVFlbA1PlrR8nkdPBMplT4Y7SPEYmNFyKnk5xx82L9oVM-nigQ2cqw7bKiO7RMRwvWONIMJMPVRX6Zndd868/s1600-h/descanso.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5079796226995179938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaJ3oe72SvUKrH2v-VGubq3bXr6qryWEMTBs3IrhDXSSQJI7vTzUzcQW_XVFlbA1PlrR8nkdPBMplT4Y7SPEYmNFyKnk5xx82L9oVM-nigQ2cqw7bKiO7RMRwvWONIMJMPVRX6Zndd868/s400/descanso.jpg" border="0" /></a> <span style="font-family:verdana;color:#33ccff;">Retirámos-nos para a piscina no fundo do jardim, com as almas angustiadas e os corpos destruídos.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#33ccff;">Pedimos as nossas mais humildes desculpas ao senhor capitão do insucesso da maratona da ceia artística, mas temos sérias razões que nos foi rogada uma praga potente, nunca tínhamos presenciado tais acontecimentos, nem em filmes de terror nem em novelas mexicanas.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#33ccff;">A vontade era muita, o empenho maior e a intenção a melhor, mas fomos derrotadas, e humildemente aceitamos a nossa derrota.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#33ccff;">Oferecemos a ementa elaborada a quem a quiser executar, desejando a melhor das sorte.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#33ccff;">E já agora, se alguém souber de algum padre poderoso que nos possa vir benzer a casa e expulsar estas feitiçarias contra nós enviadas, agradecíamos.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#33ccff;">*</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#cc0000;"><strong>ARTE by Daniela Edburg</strong></span></div>AR|T|Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00670416236236535784noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2416618565850228567.post-15386324642029073612007-06-21T20:49:00.000+01:002007-06-21T22:57:10.155+01:00a história de candice...<div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#cc6600;">A história de uma menina que morreu antes do seu tempo e transforma-se num fantasma, numa alma perdida vagueando pelo mundo.</span></div><div align="justify"><br /></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#cc6600;">O seu desejo de voltar a ser humana leva-a a olhar para os seres humanos com inveja e raiva, e estabelece com eles uma relação de amor/ódio. No decorrer do tempo, e atravéz da filosofia oriental, candice aprende a controlar os seus demónios interiores, conquistando a sua paz interior e ajudando a humanidade.</span></div><div align="justify">*<br /></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span></div><div align="center"><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXCqzFYGigYxX_xx_xF1r9XSOXIxgJqlPV3h9NzwwqcsTSwBceVLiL_QQN80s7iPSnYyl3KyKDOw9JsocqNn6meJPbeqg1FoGN00lKNBLiVBu9LF-BvxrxuCYzWQTQHloLJPreHlEaGMY_/s1600-h/the+unfulfilled+wish.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5078609558364029554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXCqzFYGigYxX_xx_xF1r9XSOXIxgJqlPV3h9NzwwqcsTSwBceVLiL_QQN80s7iPSnYyl3KyKDOw9JsocqNn6meJPbeqg1FoGN00lKNBLiVBu9LF-BvxrxuCYzWQTQHloLJPreHlEaGMY_/s320/the+unfulfilled+wish.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="color:#cc6600;"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> the unfelfielled wish<br /></span><br /></span><br /><span style="color:#cc6600;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5078610249853764226" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnJn29yxxs5KBbA7NwtT3cW0FHr57FVdNwrHZS_5pM8PUH1Vy2iryDv8Z_xMRBfQ-j8RAvCMGU1UtWPMQnYCT4W-RBVGHgQgZbECwJsmZk2GWWICn1WuPxT5yHYgMUggHk8qnLc4az560P/s320/candice+controls+her+desires+dvaid+ho.jpg" border="0" /></span><br /></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#cc6600;">candice controls her desires<br /></span></div><br /><br /><p align="center"><span style="color:#cc6600;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5078610984293171858" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKgCiVtWcpSBztHj6UaDqQTf0lXt29E-6W_2ifckDx4s9f09upYom6pPtXaMNK4Tx5FaOAPTtUcXaVdD9rf66ARlF_rcK0w1yq31mspuBXsGueiJDILwyBXR0wkTzKdrXMC6kxOxKymXPd/s320/candice+unleashes+her+demons.jpg" border="0" /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">candice unleashes her demons</span></span></p><br /><span style="color:#cc6600;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5078611783157088930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9FinllSVxHs7mPndjpzD42vv4QH1ZD4Sy5q73j2HNgsUAITqo4ZE9ApNv6BNvstcwwN1UzFh9RmtVWNgTgkZ-5kNA0yvEBcinkXg-JI48KeDK4Uo2Roid4vwgquk1_AiQkpJmgBPMuE92/s320/candice+hides+inside+herself+david+ho.jpg" border="0" /></span><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#cc6600;">candice hides inside herself</span></div><span style="color:#cc6600;"></span><br /><br /><br /><p align="center"><span style="color:#cc6600;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5078612968568062642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_wj0jVT0YBrWFWlNEOoUX2ZqxHISKYk9HaKXVNU9b8wpaMxYDKvBUE8X2kkwoDe_6TIeMxU0XT2_pf_1Yu1vvIe55H19x_Q7HtUNYMMnJaAi-BQNR5hWzjo4gmNXYzLHODL6qQ2S-N-Wx/s320/candice+mimics+shiva,+lord+of+dance.jpg" border="0" /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">candice mimics shiva, lord of dance</span></span></p><br /><p><span style="color:#cc6600;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5078613797496750786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOnzJ6RTrpuF_6qSomJHU1fjEdXe3Kcqw3c4v2N54Y87f72cKVKAFPKLuzqa5I3xCnNZEb6_40lgv8DxHHgD5jE8Uq9QzfAT7xBtNClcKgPaLXblrVNLH4JCmZzVLio_Y91gyltliymVHI/s320/candice+behind+a+rock+david+ho.jpg" border="0" /></span></p></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#cc6600;">candice behind a rock</span></div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#cc6600;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5078614686554981074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijF5thWtbAgwVhY-OakZNAG36vA9awD4MilRu4pOhZrZ1Bf1RAIoVUYD8On-aFK7wi0B-Q7Vj4TY-HitQf8xdU1M1Fwv_11egPMP0MqNFWRSZmWlnbf0pcSQOy-05ULZ_sF4JeSlWxce3G/s320/candice+wishes+she+were+a+bodhisattva.jpg" border="0" /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">candice wishes she were Bodhisattva</span></span></div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#cc6600;"></span></div><span style="color:#cc6600;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5078615957865300706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhggcjNq9YAHOtsQihrc7lzjfjMnc2YN-fVQ6i6l7Y-7H0Sj9z9gCEWEtuzAS9jsKF-AzzQ8KGcK45I2jlZx4rd645K_XkqbBvoVh4tpTZwJCZjvKfgSLzSEld6KdJ5_PId6O5E4_GFPoKr/s320/candice+bzttles+evil+spirits+david+ho.jpg" border="0" /> </span><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#cc6600;">candice battles evil spirits<br /></span></div><br /><br /><span style="color:#cc6600;"><br /></span><br /><span style="color:#cc6600;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5078616816858759922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigLOEeX0kQAiHe4oX4agLCuAo1qeV-Da_T9M_mtBto0B6-5NGEKoONZnbUwa1KSrrr66M9-o2rFqAyqY0z0mgXj_4ZaL1YIb_5RNac3PFEKhZutETN77L7ZwS6ogms03kHq7r26XqroCxY/s320/candice+makes+a+wish+david+ho.jpg" border="0" /> </span><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#cc6600;">candice makes a wish</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#cc6600;"></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#cc6600;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5078619093191426834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZbK_jABU-cyUJ3Dd9URQZTCxLElcwelcnHha4k4Jkbe7Jo091Cqm6RTGxDBJpuG3w6IK_7NCe0L_XIWekeozuppVmvrcDPUGuJ0Nv9At2VybwEZxUvoinMsUvD1t8B5mOBxi0O2xe_6Kl/s320/candice+shows+her+bones+david+ho.jpg" border="0" /></span></div><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#cc6600;">candice shows her bones</span></div><br /><br /><span style="color:#cc6600;"></span><br /><span style="color:#cc6600;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5078619883465409314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIMjWmcBcdJRLb7rfk8P8QberHO62k3TCJcvTQIkJY1JK28MSXgC2rSGe56tbckUGHMcGkvQ6MW-Mmeb-XPqu-fgxPGQUHcBjBEShXzfg7C3YTS_B_TdMFYetaZsnK-ZQr5GUA5pgduCM5/s320/candice+holding+a+tree+branch+david+ho.jpg" border="0" /><br /></span><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#cc6600;">candice holding a tree branch</span></div><br /><br /><p align="center"><span style="color:#cc6600;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5078621700236575538" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOmDqepgRvygQI5RbvtP8Nw3GuoE1Me89B6Rcd3SLX92EwYpm5qg1gvBCmI554hTiXKWYkcoAIh3qMhOpDY0HZgEA4uOlM4RmJtEUMqV7g3uky-i6Zl_p4Q7D0upYtcl7T_YCrqrwLAvP7/s320/candice+in+front+of+the+statue.jpg" border="0" /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">candice in front of the statue</span></span></p><span style="color:#cc6600;"></span><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5078636908715770802" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl_RWA05D3F9SEZqLA3FUIDv9cJweuyalno-EyqWQZ5c8QqfQewCLALSybpCkHNhT3t5PYq86nj_h2MtmeMxUez1B6SG-GmL7cDbRJVLxG_3WI9YXjzA1Nregtb_1HYGosUU8coYZfmBYa/s320/candice+learns+zen+david+ho+13.jpg" border="0" /> <p align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#cc6600;">candice learns zen</span></p><br /><p><span style="color:#cc6600;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5078623697396368210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFm92ACHmnKwBKPos5VuclYHqe1KX1CZTkP2Uth_KPeyV5ymEFmbrRdUch1ptky6WP4hzEOEm3BtNVgnEbYKthyphenhyphenFpM7Y8YI4_ibU7fcMhxJ6BCwpk-pNvOHj0nPWmlgmbAco2UEqU4-R4i/s320/candice+and+the+hannya+mask+david+ho+14.jpg" border="0" /></span></p><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#cc6600;">candice and the hannya mask</span></div><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#cc6600;"></span></div><span style="color:#cc6600;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5078625552822240098" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS2elmRzMiXdZrEDHDWaN_-jg6YrtzEB5EAT8LcnqNb2ppw7Y3rCpvPnJw4T2RLagAZTkOtm9YwkozrUiOkXJbkwXr7XZ68nGEaWMK1fs4SqSHpSrMv4QfnjApYYnBIkIiZ1wVPpnpxrZh/s320/candice+misses+her+life+david+ho+15.jpg" border="0" /> </span><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#cc6600;">candice misses her life</span></div><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#cc6600;"></span></div><span style="color:#cc6600;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5078626678103671666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjygwzlQVlWhliGI7REU1jaCGXD_b1pu-PZLyYWu0MMCnCnibIF9Zm8_nySFb7plM2DvLvFysg9jZBHqwaYJ5NMpCW3nJhd9VgbqHof1qm6nbXgXMxjXDMpHbrRV2LzzXzYTrb5SJDeI_Bx/s320/candice+sees+herself+16+david+ho.jpg" border="0" /> </span><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#cc6600;">candice sees herself</span></div><br /><br /><span style="color:#cc6600;"></span><br /><p align="center"><span style="color:#cc6600;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5078627687420986242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXe7omcGJws5-PGK4yNf8vsTNTM3x9kR7Ok4dUBw6yRhcODASQCPjUgfU_fdeQggEY77lN31U0uILs0Gn8ZYIouEjb-vT29fvnTfXcPC5ZzOw8dCXjjBGyzauYP2yINIe0uamKt4-YfHRY/s320/candice+in+a+kimono+17+david+ho.jpg" border="0" /> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#cc6600;">candice in a kimono</span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#cc6600;"></span><span style="color:#cc6600;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5078628859947058066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgimBMs1KAqBouGxFHvoDEa6fNRYuX841novOYf3rWCgb9FiUJ26L2KUOtOx-n6S1usefRIVIdqhN20YGsq0W4U_BdX7lseZA8_D7PJWUaA8ijuMJJRRln6xcck0-LlFE5MXd1QuA1fsY2t/s320/eternal.jpg" border="0" /><br /></span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#cc6600;">eternal stillness</span></p><br /><p align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#cc6600;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5078632167071876002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_c6qUKMAxjG0IsRKKhG7V0sZwxOdi36JKckOGH2Z16hXWjaXNyhbqt9rU46stAmhzdBaKZqu4dBAw8gzxphDP9fkxTDX3x79tOL5HgARn9Yoab6hXsbDhm2A76K7njv1t4EtJU2t3i9T8/s320/candice+soothes+the+lost+souls+18+david+ho.jpg" border="0" /></span></p><br /><p align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#cc6600;">candice soothes the lost souls</span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#cc6600;">ARTE by DAVID HO</span></p><p align="center"></p>maggie thttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03186221372279066269noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2416618565850228567.post-43700926484759686382007-06-11T05:05:00.000+01:002007-06-11T04:15:49.143+01:00murder with a smell of cinnamon<div align="justify"><span style="font-family:courier new;">Todos os anos no dia do seu aniversário a mãe repetia-lhe a história do dia do seu nascimento.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:courier new;">Num dia de sol radioso, os trovoes romperam os céus, e ela nasceu.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:courier new;">Nasceu de olhos abertos, e só os fechou para descansar muitas horas depois.</span></div><p align="justify"><span style="font-family:courier new;">A primeira recordação que tem é do cheiro a canela. Cheiro de festa, cheiro de casa cheia de gente.<br /></span><span style="font-family:courier new;">A segunda recordação que tem, é dos tempos infinitos em que brincava nos jardins da casa, sozinha, com suas bonecas, terra e plantas.</span></p><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:courier new;">Sempre sozinha. Só conhecia adultos, a família e os empregados. Brincava sozinha, comia sozinha, adormecia sozinha, sempre sozinha. Os pais raramente estavam em casa, e aquele era o seu mundo, só dela.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:courier new;">Fazendo escavações na terra para encontrar minhocas para os pássaros, olhou para cima e viu um anjo.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:courier new;">A sua cabeça irradiava luz, e os cabelos eram tão loiros que quase eram brancos.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:courier new;">Ela perguntou-lhe.... </span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:courier new;">- que anjo és? o que queres de mim?</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:courier new;">E ele respondeu-lhe...</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:courier new;">- não sou anjo nenhum! sou Sebastian e sou filho de Michal, amigo do teu pai. Mudámos-nos para a vizinhança á pouco, e como aqui não há ninguém disseram-me que podia vir brincar contigo, posso?</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:courier new;">Ela arregalou os olhos e disse-lhe...</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:courier new;">- brincar comigo? como? há brincadeiras para mais que uma pessoa?</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:courier new;">Desde a aparição que se tinham tornado inseparáveis, faziam tudo juntos, pensavam da mesma maneira e queriam as mesmas coisas.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:courier new;">Cresceram num mundo só deles, e que ela pensava que iria durar para sempre.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:courier new;">Quando ele fez 10 anos foi mandado para um colégio interno, e ela seguiu-lhe o caminho um ano a seguir.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:courier new;">Viam-se sempre que podiam. As cartas eram diárias. Nas férias voltavam á vida que sempre tinham conhecido e que haviam jurar eternizar.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:courier new;">Entraram na universidade, e no último ano, quando ela pensava em casamento, ele começou a reduzir o número das cartas.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:courier new;">Um dia contaram-lhe, ele tinha-se apaixonado por uma loira espampanante, de origem sueca.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:courier new;">Tinha saído das aulas um dia ao fim da tarde, pegara na loira Ula e tinha-se casado.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:courier new;">Ela achou que ia acordar a qualquer segundo, que o pesadelo já durava há minutos a mais.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:courier new;">Mas nada daquilo desaparecia. O improvável, o nunca imaginado, o nunca previsto tinha acontecido. Ele esquecera-se dela. A raiva invadiu-lhe o cérebro, e a imagem da pistola que ele guardava no seu quarto da quinta, vinha-lhe á cabeça cada vez mais nitidamente.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:courier new;">A vida dela tinha acabado naquele momento, a ele iria acontecer o mesmo.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:courier new;">Soube que o casal tinha ido para Londres, e depois de um desvio pela quinta dele, foi correndo os hotéis da cidade até os encontrar. Vi-o sair do hotel para comprar cigarros e voltar.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:courier new;">Segui-o. Anotou o número do quarto de hotel, foi para a rua e esperou que saísse de novo.<br />Passadas uma horas ele saiu. Ela entrou no hotel á socapa. Rodou a porta do quarto, e surpreendentemente estava aberta. Entrou. E lá estava ela, a outra, a cabra. De cabelos loiros espalhados na almofada, quase tão loiros como os dele. Estendia-se nua pelos lençóis de cetim beije.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:courier new;">Olhou-a e tentou perceber o porquê, porque teria sido que ele se tinha apaixonado perdidamente por aquela mulher. O porquê e a falta de resposta tirava-lhe o ar e a razão.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><span style="font-family:courier new;">Abriu a mala, e tirou a pistola</span>.</span></div><div align="center"><br /><br /></div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQDxiMJVw0yM0ZM3yt16wRHLB2MknRs7_ucCpebi_2VXqbpdr1TCyTjOWUypXfaC2NfpTy7oDt9qFHDFufct65xJkM6uxx526U7nbi86S3i0aeZ2qyrrzBwCygbUE4-aTXABY2HdeiC08a/s1600-h/FOTO-01.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5073072211648119250" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQDxiMJVw0yM0ZM3yt16wRHLB2MknRs7_ucCpebi_2VXqbpdr1TCyTjOWUypXfaC2NfpTy7oDt9qFHDFufct65xJkM6uxx526U7nbi86S3i0aeZ2qyrrzBwCygbUE4-aTXABY2HdeiC08a/s320/FOTO-01.jpg" border="0" /></a> <span style="font-family:courier new;">As mãos tremiam-lhe, com as duas fez pontaria.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span></div><div align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5073073079231513058" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjydpGV1mBJw0orwciPWhWC-Vh3S2mE2VZql4zz8rlL8_1nx0OTsfZyDfBEA9h56PMmsTb7WqQ1RHlAYzZvbAsKSbXW3E_RGNuUyejXnkr8aOY95y2FxJxzlamu0tQu_OTByLMJYY137DYf/s320/FOTO-02.jpg" border="0" /> <span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">A raiva era maior que o medo, e disparou sem remorsos.</span></div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><div align="center"><br /></div></span><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5073073298274845170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY9zHShTJqBodEpXJKLaEWfxlp6lX-aSS3p8GDd44Hiad4tUPAk5f65XvluJwEU2kxz1U0OXU0ISiitx4Lx34UbAZmUZGJbZiv9BA6cQBqpazUrvnI0dNQcRHdfrtCJmSTu6GCZd2mNBKG/s320/FOTO-03.jpg" border="0" /> <p align="center"><span style="font-family:courier new;">Virou-se e não olhou mais para trás.</span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:Courier New;">Enrolou a pistola numa encharpe que estava caída no chão do quarto, </span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:Courier New;">e abandonou-a num caixote do lixo perto do hotel.</span></p><div align="center"> F<span style="font-family:courier new;">oram escandalosas, as noticias saídas nos jornais no dia seguinte.</span></div><p align="center"><span style="font-family:Courier New;">Ela, que tinha voltado discretamente para o colégio, </span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:Courier New;">fez-se de admirada e chocada.</span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:Courier New;">A investigação criminal demorou meses a fio.</span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:Courier New;">Todas as pessoas relacionadas com ele foram interrogadas, </span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:Courier New;">incluindo ela.</span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:Courier New;">Ele estava de rastos, </span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:Courier New;">perdera a mulher da sua vida e era suspeito da sua morte.</span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:Courier New;">Procurava apoio e carinho na sua amiga de sempre, </span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:Courier New;">ela com uma calma suave recebia-o de braços abertos.</span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:Courier New;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5073073500138308098" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvShYOnWUP69tCE3N49slfV_piH8iT0tfN-Y3ZsfhFHWESQly1vMWz1bACaaT_SMNXwtLnAzKUmO3E9a3W9S9KtHQJdGLB_4BrgOCE2NnJdR3VD8KjKOwhIrpq-XqvUJsoIUNG0xMExr7z/s320/FOTO-04.jpg" border="0" />As investigações concluíram que teria sido ela, </span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:Courier New;">a homicida.</span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:courier new;">Ela estava descansada, </span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:courier new;">sabia que eles não tinham como provar a sua ligação com o </span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:courier new;">homicídio.</span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5073073693411836434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdgEQ9zxmZk6emKhgr7eWJQ3oRe7mV6_o1Y_emI8FynHCQHqkBgypOMm0aDcXy08PnNm0zaW9V1CnqSgyyWKUMtEvgEhUhg8nsh0jv2slpeghqxWy3bcgCWCyksVr23BtH3YaKsY1ws0NK/s320/FOTO-05.jpg" border="0" /></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:courier new;">Fez-se de vitima injustiçada, e teatralmente jurou dizer a verdade.</span></p><p align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5073073890980332066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOPXTyrY3dCbDkWq1lwAjjBdn35cXfdJMOD7Ml8aqp_YN2mlO6zO536EY9bmR1MRZxpyQi_TvmQ2_6npj3I3iePZBRRfyc6QCk6Veii4eRq1rMNr9IFHoco0lEA3vPBU6NITBcneg-Fp41/s320/FOTO-06.jpg" border="0" /> <span style="font-family:courier new;">Foi interrogada pelo Juiz e pelos advogados.</span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:courier new;">Foi feita a reconstituição do dia em questão.</span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:courier new;">E três testemunhas afirmaram que ela teria ido para o quarto </span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:courier new;">estudar e não teria voltado a sair até ao dia seguinte.<br /></span><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:courier new;">Tudo parecia a estar a correr como o previsto.</span></p><p align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5073074127203533362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGJViOx_1gI7DcA-Smglw9CyvkgUtV1hxmk1mwZRwGOZKsVeQAuZueJbG63XrMEWnklq34PwV6IneGrgCayQVE4stc7tFbkeESne3HM0kHEkBLBlcfg_rMacsCAo-W8nV-C4Zvdk2kR_kC/s320/FOTO-07.jpg" border="0" /> </p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:courier new;">No meio das testemunhas da acusação,</span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:courier new;">surge o testemunho de uma estranho cheiro de canela, </span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:courier new;">no quarto onde teria ocorrido o crime.</span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:courier new;">Os empregados dela, </span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:courier new;">que se encontravam na audiência, </span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:courier new;"><span style="font-family:courier new;">comentaram de imediato que só podia ser o perfume dela</span>.</span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:courier new;">O perfume de aroma a canela, que ela tanto pedira,</span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:courier new;">e que foi mandado fazer em Paris, só para ela, nunca tendo sido</span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:courier new;">vendido a qualquer outra pessoa.</span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:courier new;">O Advogado da acusação ouviu o comentário, </span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:courier new;">e tudo mudou.</span></p><p align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5073074333361963586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt2btL8Uedp4AmDvHnjC4TMuPbg4ZbF7fylakve7c3W5TvIL1EeAREzNCR03dNy_IzJ_HHJXNqPGF2Cxq7fgG6L_YOpmvEhuk-JygOXEgHw4i5vgWgyUlbPxcGJ1-ib1vRXsJ9HCxHZ7Bh/s320/FOTO-09.jpg" border="0" /></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:courier new;">Finalmente o Juiz deu o veredicto. Culpada.</span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:courier new;">Enquanto as palavras eram ditas muito ao longe, chegando aos seu </span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:courier new;">ouvidos distorcidas, olhava para ele.</span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:Courier New;">Tinha achado que a sua vida acabara quando soubera do casamento</span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:Courier New;">dele, </span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:Courier New;">mas pior do que essa morte sentida,</span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:Courier New;">foi sentir o olhar de desilusão dele.</span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:Courier New;">Renegou-a com olha a partir daquele momento,</span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:Courier New;">e não mais voltou a ver o seu olhar.</span></p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5073074634009674322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqkTfHK-UE76kcT9CHTYEAEbC4HdSNtQEE2UeUOhEfereN9bB-F1ZoxwmKEE7scMRx_Yhw3IzWBnagJ63iCWwCQe-PVrfBsTziEAm15KDulGYcegkNXNr9OB5MuvBk_AEHUO6xTlW87pIi/s320/FOTO-10.jpg" border="0" /></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:courier new;">Ela morreu mais uma vez, entregou-se ao desespero. </span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:courier new;">Chorou lágrimas de dor, o sal tapava-lhe os poros da cara.</span></p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5073074947542286946" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUenm0eLybSKfF4c8XIsK-n4i1fSTIjeHHczCO9Uyjm69eVCeZt3_RS1DeP75zPQf_mW5TaJF4Fi3UJvlgIRFCLSeuchRLrSBYDcnCXZXMHXaAo8sJmfRQgCdSP2ResQIcnmQffF9gsIjR/s320/FOTO-11.jpg" border="0" /></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:courier new;">Jamais o mundo voltaria a ser o mesmo...</span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:courier new;color:#ff6666;"><strong>*** arte: fotografias de E.Recuenco, um dos melhores fotógrafos espanhóis da actualidade, o encenador da fotografia*** </strong></span></p>maggie thttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03186221372279066269noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2416618565850228567.post-87617037491256186092007-06-05T01:01:00.000+01:002007-06-04T23:41:24.534+01:00Alices, sem tìtulo...<span style="color:#ff6666;"><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">......................Alice,</span><br /></strong></span><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGAqYGpgDodu7mLRUaFfqcVqnvbYaeKrYKxov9QR9SzHrdOlgiXHTC3Jt2My8vn7APy5XRsULmaM3J94T1H4_PXdyBH8CQdj24aHpADVxjdLbycCO09RFeEY0zjKe4gQW8aTWH2EaoE-AV/s1600-h/alice+11+begin+m.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5072318931485195570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGAqYGpgDodu7mLRUaFfqcVqnvbYaeKrYKxov9QR9SzHrdOlgiXHTC3Jt2My8vn7APy5XRsULmaM3J94T1H4_PXdyBH8CQdj24aHpADVxjdLbycCO09RFeEY0zjKe4gQW8aTWH2EaoE-AV/s400/alice+11+begin+m.jpg" border="0" /></a> </div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">...criança sonhadora,</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">é resgatada por João Concha, </span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">ao seu criador, </span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Lewis Carrol, </span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">dando-lhe novo fôlego.</span><br /></div><div></div><br /><br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5072315959367826610" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBu6tdn31w3bgEfTOOwn7BKSQyogIIzXFDpar8l_ELiaPqLSF-Kz7bv4fbBhNKVHEFObArRvddPyZHWc7OmQ1RlYyklw6UvFWkJfizmfT65k2nKAOUD1wnexUbMdq3D9t7IQQJo_cuQ5eK/s400/alice+4.jpg" border="0" /></div><div></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">João retira-a da escuridão do esquecimento onde se encontrava,</span></div><br /><br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5072323771913338178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicmqdzQ0m5VF2EDOACNtsBZYfnaILlKwf3mRxz8rEuubgZfMvFVsQ0zIWca7NTU0S-PO727plCsdLIvIDnWNaebX0-8jWqzDQyhey8KHDj7E9H47C_QmA2sgpXl1Q6m4q3vNVbycmg7oIc/s400/alice+1.jpg" border="0" /></div><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">dá-lhe luz, </span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">devolve-lhe a sua curiosidade natural,</span></div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5072316178411158722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPgD8Xckss784FVjyXjmQJ9xsb1H3JE2r3HkP4CsZieUqEMA6-emxvvxIp7gNxP69bYueUCeAtJTt1sdg6x1hm0Txti9pxkSh6z-QrdpCP0MyBDX9KU8rb-iWTc1MyR1Up080WAhlXwVJT/s400/alice+5.jpg" border="0" /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">e pintalga-a de cores mil.</span><br /><br /><br /><div><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyeldKg8a2I43S3CN9cAXr8Hn-kpjPR50-YkmSTsVqDgmwC9RhD4RNIQmwUoOvqljb56fU-PcrvTNcxHIpkkEDiC_gos1san62L0k7K7XUVLQQlgZA6tjJvhhWIsPXsE4IM79pnD8TQ39y/s1600-h/Alice+8+lua.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5072317561390628098" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyeldKg8a2I43S3CN9cAXr8Hn-kpjPR50-YkmSTsVqDgmwC9RhD4RNIQmwUoOvqljb56fU-PcrvTNcxHIpkkEDiC_gos1san62L0k7K7XUVLQQlgZA6tjJvhhWIsPXsE4IM79pnD8TQ39y/s400/Alice+8+lua.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> Mostra-lhe o sol... </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5072317003044879586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikFShMMz9-dnRUJLDZoZ82lhUgPSIlTOzSaNlUKlTEHTn-8Hqfk_Y6Mxvd0cL4dzx4M-cEpGuzOXabpe4G0Yffgm0MOz-HOZf8falaXekAlP-INnbdRc6YxYXN-T46L08_rjvOy3RUKlWU/s400/alice+7+in+color.jpg" border="0" /><br /></span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">apresenta-a á nova era da tecnologia</span>,</div><br /><div><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXShIozJQGfblzK5jSqn_EEw-SomPlN4lRuAQoFwuNwPyljD_YqqKleyEtM0cUaOTMmYUbtbZya1LLuFJz5rN3P5jdyszngizbJM27cYZAD-UepFEMD7tds8KXy8kmBhLx3vacJh8qjmAU/s1600-h/alice+8+key.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5072317295102655730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXShIozJQGfblzK5jSqn_EEw-SomPlN4lRuAQoFwuNwPyljD_YqqKleyEtM0cUaOTMmYUbtbZya1LLuFJz5rN3P5jdyszngizbJM27cYZAD-UepFEMD7tds8KXy8kmBhLx3vacJh8qjmAU/s400/alice+8+key.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">...e dá-lhe as chaves do carro,</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">deixando-a redescobrir mais um sem fim de realidades.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span></div><br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5072318162686049554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKqh9GzzTIEOj9-yHut7Jbf0qgPpGLRFuentPVNcXFxavP3lXGtRYiTng7ExI_xM5-Z5KO_qg9DgwNZOWRQ-y0EtpkbBoXEplp1ScBWuoP6jIrQ8yc-U_-PWkOIt6ydPDNOI9cRvjz6D8z/s400/alice+10+cortina.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Alice,</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">tudo espreita ,</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">tudo vê </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">e por todo lado se perde e se encontra.<br /></span></div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5jdTuYMvvYHpshhyphenhyphenmp8FbFzTg1bP2fiZWBPkz70rKIzoNwJ1p3tb3cZooEze1pLwwB15po1Q5BJg2mrzK8Uyw-Uxfivf6HGyLJRjtIiEF9eWQF_HAWCO6Is8-N-eAJVpaT0lQDa-iK8Fw/s1600-h/alice+6+flutua.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5072316629382724818" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5jdTuYMvvYHpshhyphenhyphenmp8FbFzTg1bP2fiZWBPkz70rKIzoNwJ1p3tb3cZooEze1pLwwB15po1Q5BJg2mrzK8Uyw-Uxfivf6HGyLJRjtIiEF9eWQF_HAWCO6Is8-N-eAJVpaT0lQDa-iK8Fw/s400/alice+6+flutua.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> Rompe com o mundo das letras mortas,</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">e renasce para as realidades sonhadas das telas de João Concha</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">A não perder, até dia 31/07, o relato visual das aventuras de Alice,</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">pelo olhar deste F A N T Á S T I C O artista plástico,</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span></div></div></div><div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">no Centro Cultural do Cartaxo.</span></div><div></div><div><a href="http://www.centroculturalcartaxo.com/index_ficheiros/Page451.htm"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#cc0000;">www.centroculturalcartaxo.com/index_ficheiros/Page451.htm</span></a></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;"></span></div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5072333426999819602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIgkk1LfkrUe-tQibdSx3rgSPg4wbarDA4dRFjc7WLR_wtJkADm4V8bm99R_9CpU__SnY4oX16SVxp7WNd3lBb5TwTpWgi2mNycTmU3DCdRm7PPE26AzED7Sg0UkEUiwBu3HpxbIsyfPa5/s400/pintura_colagem.jpg" border="0" /></div></div></div></div><br /><p align="center"><a href="http://www.-intruso.blogspot.com/"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#cc0000;">www.-intruso.blogspot.com/</span></a></p>maggie thttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03186221372279066269noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2416618565850228567.post-55763496418959098572007-06-03T20:18:00.000+01:002007-06-03T20:37:38.536+01:00Mario Vela<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBOVSSsa1pGUSJpjGTnqVPvG0hldmDTLnZlq7lzTerIHoDe5CEtJqKrHgQEdx2rjooZuwNKV8a4vYWoH8FA2ZKtPrt28gg6bznxKojYy6JWdYT-wPn14hOf7Upht18a0JMGGS__jagQfM/s1600-h/sis+3+mario+vela.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5071924461358042450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBOVSSsa1pGUSJpjGTnqVPvG0hldmDTLnZlq7lzTerIHoDe5CEtJqKrHgQEdx2rjooZuwNKV8a4vYWoH8FA2ZKtPrt28gg6bznxKojYy6JWdYT-wPn14hOf7Upht18a0JMGGS__jagQfM/s400/sis+3+mario+vela.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><div><div><div><div>Alguns quadros do Espanhol Mario Vela estão em exposição (e venda) na galeria Arte Periférica do CCB.<br />Para quem goste tanto como aqui a Frida e a Maggie, aproveite para o visitar (ou comprar) até ao dia 22 de Junho.</div><br /><br /><div></div></div></div></div></div>AR|T|Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00670416236236535784noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2416618565850228567.post-5018439006267029822007-06-02T01:02:00.000+01:002007-06-01T23:35:10.979+01:00<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiKFXpOp0FNKz6TnITpQAz-cTCMMJRClwvPOyEMxo526PUzQyg5Sfk0gy0FKK2nlyk17dWGxTAYF9zIOfVpg2Vm1p3zZD5hSQMtPeMMu65HI6ou7x0Mm5ONMDES5DllRyJEc4IYyBYQv4/s1600-h/maggie+taylor+.+optimist´s+dress.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5071225378121207042" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiKFXpOp0FNKz6TnITpQAz-cTCMMJRClwvPOyEMxo526PUzQyg5Sfk0gy0FKK2nlyk17dWGxTAYF9zIOfVpg2Vm1p3zZD5hSQMtPeMMu65HI6ou7x0Mm5ONMDES5DllRyJEc4IYyBYQv4/s400/maggie+taylor+.+optimist%C2%B4s+dress.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> ... e quando as abelhas não me vestem</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">ando nua pelo o mundo</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">envergo vestes de esperança</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">asas de anjos</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">e tenho a luz como fundo</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">confundo-me com o nada... <blockquote></blockquote><span style="color:#ffff99;"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">maggie</span> </strong></span>dreaming</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><br /></div></span><div align="center"></div>AR|T|Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00670416236236535784noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2416618565850228567.post-46973988101195448012007-06-01T17:31:00.000+01:002007-06-03T20:38:59.619+01:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB6tD3Cm4XObXfNdFVzUrvieB6lLgAy3VNbiyMu2PdKFCRA2CFSeUR2pYfg3PMEkW832CfvYnXCIBPEcOR1DzUHdDrFSpiO2iMfzEMphTXMO3-NWSh_3ZesFQAuxlUmlAZDOwyINfdu8Q/s1600-h/TheBrokenColumn44c.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5071142107295272178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB6tD3Cm4XObXfNdFVzUrvieB6lLgAy3VNbiyMu2PdKFCRA2CFSeUR2pYfg3PMEkW832CfvYnXCIBPEcOR1DzUHdDrFSpiO2iMfzEMphTXMO3-NWSh_3ZesFQAuxlUmlAZDOwyINfdu8Q/s400/TheBrokenColumn44c.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#cc33cc;"><strong>fr</strong></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#cc33cc;"><strong>ida</strong></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">sem </span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">ferida</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">tudo</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">começa</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">de novo</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">a cor</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">cora</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">a flor</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">o ir</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">vai</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">o rir</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">rói</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">o amor</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">mói</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">o céu</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">cai</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">a dor</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">dói</span></div><br /><div align="center"></div>AR|T|Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00670416236236535784noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2416618565850228567.post-38990667394406850852007-06-01T16:59:00.000+01:002007-06-03T20:39:28.242+01:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMyo8S7k-ZtaHcpLK-bfrS_wcnZ4O4EB0HIh54FISrWFVAZq_FlkGV6DVX-j2_gDCtwDZszgAhnL42yeeqYdNueaDOi75UY_-Oa9aPGaxAqKGoDD_Z1o9FL19FKHBcueoDjDf9qCihGgM/s1600-h/frida3.jpg"></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF9iSfR_93ea1ye1qoTUk5lyDqP9L8KoLXcPlZrm_N9q-1K7kSNAYafjcLdJaS_cqyHMek1kn3UVc8Al600XKlstY2Rw_9RZp17Iz8k8UUogFaEUZfIMrjEqTHTSZH4SfQnsU6pmyxzcA/s1600-h/frida2.jpg"></a><br /><div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjirlKMNPdy3sCDFdma3sGDzbOtTmYhmIvdjrOoyuvkQQazHMekcMcV1YxvHo3n6UbFyRZCq3dwluzY49yLhGYBFF_oVxQ4YftMjsuYv_HwJLURzDu6JZARa9IW11iFjQBU5K70sl-EO3Q/s1600-h/kahlo28Fridakhalo1932Selfportraitintheborderofmexicoandunitedstates.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5071126701247581362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjirlKMNPdy3sCDFdma3sGDzbOtTmYhmIvdjrOoyuvkQQazHMekcMcV1YxvHo3n6UbFyRZCq3dwluzY49yLhGYBFF_oVxQ4YftMjsuYv_HwJLURzDu6JZARa9IW11iFjQBU5K70sl-EO3Q/s400/kahlo28Fridakhalo1932Selfportraitintheborderofmexicoandunitedstates.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Esta <strong><span style="color:#cc33cc;">Frida</span></strong> que nunca sarei<br />Revejo-a no espelho<br />Em paralelo sofrerei<br />Mantendo-me horizontal<br />Em faixas engessadas<br />Flores e borboletas esboçadas,<br />Sou o bailar com o embalo do mescal…</span><br /><br /><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Para quê os pés, quando tenho asas para voar?</span></strong><br /></div><div align="center"></div></div></div></div>AR|T|Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00670416236236535784noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2416618565850228567.post-12852582711720820312007-06-01T05:33:00.000+01:002007-06-01T17:05:23.363+01:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPTKyfT8JlafZBx0pK5kg0UIT1eKX0vG64uM-acpLwIRLQ8QT-xGdG5EzUyCmYu134fGwTnDFUzxZ6vsk27p_keHmmOCu15nRalnxtBcpmJcZI6TMLD2JAGxq7ybNh-NxuUQnFom4ZPu0/s1600-h/maggie+taylor+-+vestido+de+abelhas.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5070949533846621314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPTKyfT8JlafZBx0pK5kg0UIT1eKX0vG64uM-acpLwIRLQ8QT-xGdG5EzUyCmYu134fGwTnDFUzxZ6vsk27p_keHmmOCu15nRalnxtBcpmJcZI6TMLD2JAGxq7ybNh-NxuUQnFom4ZPu0/s400/maggie+taylor+-+vestido+de+abelhas.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">sou eu, a <strong><em><span style="font-size:180%;color:#993399;">maggie</span></em></strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">se fosse feita de mel</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">as abelhas vestiam-me</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">mas não sou,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">e ao invés picam-me</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">fazendo-me andar despida de tudo,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">mundo fora...</span></div>AR|T|Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00670416236236535784noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2416618565850228567.post-4917964064480476722007-06-01T04:43:00.000+01:002007-06-03T20:39:52.987+01:00Frida and Maggie created a blog !!!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTGH8_F8pael_tpYTRL6H2BQNq_3MM6WDcCh9Rf2mTkMqzx8vZOUHFPe5ogHnk0rxZV_Uq6F_ReVTtJsiGKE9eZKQ5sBmJSSaTVD8BL157E3UgYZ7KmnwS-KdAUtJCcNmgd9gtN0aHnKA/s1600-h/Edward%2520Weston%252C%2520Frida%2520Kahlo%252C%25201930%2520%253F%253F%2520Center%2520for%2520Creative%2520Photography%252C%2520Arizona%2520Board%2520of%2520Regents.jpg"></a><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8mqoPl45w-2Dz41_t5J5_UU9ssNRoVnynhbMxnEUb_oX1or88hwsoLOStyhvl8Vczqm-rN-dmCyAUZUV4fA0yQS-AHiBmAytHebMu9wp-GdT3WTNLqasStVTtAMPqubMrpjufITQpYsk/s1600-h/Maggie%2520Taylor%252C%2520Mood%2520lifter%252C%2520%25202001.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5070938216607796338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8mqoPl45w-2Dz41_t5J5_UU9ssNRoVnynhbMxnEUb_oX1or88hwsoLOStyhvl8Vczqm-rN-dmCyAUZUV4fA0yQS-AHiBmAytHebMu9wp-GdT3WTNLqasStVTtAMPqubMrpjufITQpYsk/s400/Maggie%2520Taylor%252C%2520Mood%2520lifter%252C%2520%25202001.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5070950122257140898" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj-_lgBW6Yfau_85sQ8Q2WdGqC76GW-QAVBQqNf3CodIWaJ0QXzTZR-cfD6elefVIokkKRmLz9-khp9_YWtja5P92NdUWj0jn5N4oN4OjQShiVImcheqng_VwIHNotdwK6GMMv3hGq7zE/s400/Frida%2520Kahlo%252C%2520Self%2520Portrait%252C%25201926.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin9Oay9Lte_6LTTO_M3tQTsYigE4pJUaKfpzbJ_affTB_9IPeLu2d6CNuFMtLdFeXJqsT8wCcEPyMB2Zw85b9R3DQX6zQOO6nJeWA6oTeNSOut34O0BJbCy3lJLxocSl4PjzzIvm9bMzs/s1600-h/Edward%2520Weston%252C%2520Frida%2520Kahlo%252C%25201930%2520%253F%253F%2520Center%2520for%2520Creative%2520Photography%252C%2520Arizona%2520Board%2520of%2520Regents.jpg"></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>yesssssssssssssssssssssssssssss<br /><br />ora então vamos a isto!!!<br /><br />first post by maggie, that's your time, eheheheheh!!!</div></div></div>AR|T|Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00670416236236535784noreply@blogger.com3