...

so...





(...)

(...)

(...)

ps1:



(...)

(...)

(...)

ps2:



*mariana, antónio, me, catarixa, beluxa, tânia, cati, susana, pedro davi, rita, tomaz, andreia, gui, joja, pedro gonçalo, inês oli.

a song...

of the kind that makes us go with the wind... or with the moon!

I am a bit away...

...but that's because the negative temperature outside put a (-) "minus" inside my head, which is not a bad thing given the fact that I spent the whole of last week thinking about my evening tomorrow...

which will be here...



but like this...



and with them...


i.e.: lisbon & bairro alto & night & probably the "janela da atalaia" bar & and the ones above. ;)

so...

I will just let you now with a "I hope you have a blablabla christmas full of nice blalala"...

...and also a lovely and blablabla killers christmas song (well, "lovely" is not exactly the word but ok... who cares!) ;)

The Killers - Don't Shoot Me Santa

(the original clip here)

Gotta pack now, so if you excuse me... Gotta go.

bye bye**

so 80's?

oui! ;)

*madeleine, me and zoe!

...and the post scriptum

Noir Desir - A l'envers a l'endroit

oui? non... on est encore en route!

Belgium.
The direction is Gent but the destiny is France.
140 km/h; the limit is 120.

Industries and canals
trees and bridges.
houses and trucks adorning the landscape,
between traffic lights and overtakings.

Noir desir sounds along the way
and a Cola zero hardly quenches the thirst.

Julie and Tiago speak in french
Diego sleeps in the back
and I rest from 2 hours of driving.

It is already dark but I write anyway...
between bags, bottles and crumbs.
between stops in the highway
and phone-calls from pierre
who waits for us... in Paris.


_________________________________________________

Bélgica.
Direcção é Gent mas o destino é França.
140 km/h; o limite é 120.

Fábricas e canais
árvores e pontes.
casas e camiões que decoram a paisagem
entre sinais de luzes e ultrapassagens.

Noir Desir soa pelo percurso
e uma coca cola zero não mata a sede.

o tiago e a julie falam em francês,
o diego dorme
e eu descanso de 2 horas ao volante.

já é noite, mas eu escrevo ás escuras
entre sacos, garrafas e migalhas.
entre paragens na auto-estrada
e chamadas do pierre
que nos espera... em Paris.

what I like about beirut?

the sound, all of it...

and with "sound" I mean all the different kinds of instruments and noises they use, they play, they mix.

I mean the lyrics and the movements while dancing. his voice and all the voices when they sing together.

I mean the silence between notes and the noise between stops, the simplicity with which they do it.

I mean the streets they show in the videos, the corridors they walk on and the stairs they climb.

I mean the living rooms where they play and the conversations they probably have during beer and cigarette get-togethers

I mean their discussions about tabs and EPs I have never listened to.

with "sound" I even mean the songs they still didn’t make or even thought about...

Or the instruments they still didn’t try to add

basically... with "sound" I mean their everything.

So... here it goes my 5th locus focus beirut "sound" (after this one, this one , this one and also this one)...

A good sound, I mean.

BEIRUT - In the Mausoleum from The Flying Club Cup

the beatles and vinyl records on the wall

there are 1001 things on the table
cheeses of different kinds, empty bottles, rests of pasta and even water.
and chorizo.
and bread.
and mushroom salads.
ashes and cigarette buds.
...and its hot.
...and the gentle wind from the window is blowing on the people.
people that speak, eat, sing, look for a pillow to seat...
...or play the cords of 2 guitars.
in a house made of walls,
windows
and neighbors that complain of the noise.

____________________________________________________

Beatles e discos de vinil na parede

estão 1001 coisas na mesa
queijos de todos os tipos, garrafas vazias, restos de esparguete e água até.
e chouriço.
e saladas de cogumelos.
cinzas e beatas.
e está calor.
e correntes de ar a passar por entre pessoas.
pessoas que falam, comem, cantam, procuram uma almofada para se sentar...
...ou vibram cordas de duas guitarras.
numa casa feita de paredes
janelas
e vizinhos que se queixam do barulho.

the 1st "goofy" plan for a "regular" 2010

I want to go to the mountains... I want to.

and (since I cannot avoid it) fall down on my coccis or knees or wrists, depending on how the board dives into the snow...

;)

and a song, which is not snowboard related, not even snow related... but it would probably be a good sound to listen to on the mp3 while trying to be fast, make a turn (and then fall down of course! hehe):

Bloc Party - Helicopter

Declaration of Dependence

That the Kings Of Convenience are good, we already know.

I even posted some of their songs here a while ago...
actually they were 2 from the Kings Of Convenience (this one and this one) and another one from the Whitest Boy Alive, Erlend Øye working solo (this one).

however, the problem about these good bands is that, for technical and physiological reasons (lol), it's just not possible to create new music every day.

therefore we start listening to other playlists, other music styles, other sounds and concerts, bands… and then, if they are not so well known, we forget to keep on checking for new things from those bands, bands that once played a lot on our mp3.

but yesterday my reminder finally came. Went to BicicletAzul's blog and voila: a new song from the Kings was there, waiting to be listened to.

and well,… of course I went (right away) to check for more from the new album.

and found this…

Kings of Convenience - Me In You

…and yes, it's good, veeery good!

our yesterday (before yesterday) afternoon...

i.e,

e as saudades que eu já tinha da minh'alegre casinha tão modesta quanto eu!!!



(something that we miss, something that we sang because we miss.)

ps - welll... I know I know. but at least the players played well and managed to save the song. haha

weekend without makeup

I like relaxed weekends, to wake up late in the morning and stay in bed till lunch time, sort of dreaming, sort of awake.

then get up, eat an apple, dress really quickly, take my bike, my hat as well and go to the market to buy fish, vegetables and chestnuts.
ah, and also to discuss the prices with the indian guys thet sell fruits in the stands.

"5 euros for only 1kg?? too much..."
"how much miss give?"
"in portugal it's 3"
"but to go portugal need airplane first."

;)

ps - Weekend Without Makeup - The Long Blondes

The way I take… the run (a)way…

It’s close by, really close by...

It’s so close that sometimes it's difficult to remain inside the office and think of how unbearably close it really is.

It is normally my morning partner... running with me, or walking, or stopping, depending on my mood, on me, on everything around.

it runs with me together with the sun rising on the horizon, the clouds aligned as fog, some seagulls here, footsteps there, 1001 shells everywhere.

it walks with me together with the smell of the sea, the glances and the gentle breeze coming from the water and the noise of the waves crumbling on the golden sand.

it stops me once in a while (quite often lately) when the angry rain and the cold wind suddenly burst into life.


and that’s why it is so peacefully simple, so tempestuously beautiful, so something to run for.

to you...

Today I woke up at 8 o´clock having had no insomnias in the middle of the night. It was good for a change.

I woke up really in the nick of time...

“oh god, I am late!”

And I jumped from the bed. I stumbled before putting on the slippers and ran to the shower, without time, without thinking, without realizing what woke me up.

The water started to fall and, although I was late, I got under it only when it was really warm.
It is so cold here now!

And I relaxed… to then really awake. I awoke for one more routine, I awoke to go to work. I awoke as I do every day, I simply awoke…

and I remembered… I remembered the dream that woke me up and which I didn’t want to finish. I remembered that I didn’t want to wake up.

In the dream me and my brother, Nuno, maybe 20 years younger, were playing in the balcony of a house, my house, but the dutch one, the one I didn’t grow up in, the one from which I am writing now.

We were seating in the plastic chairs that I have outside and had put aside the clothes hanger, so that we had space.

And me, the grown up inês, was in my room observing us outside as we were abstracted, lost in hugs, in laughs.

He was tickling me and I was giggling, he was grabbing me and I was running away.

And while me and nuno (the little ones) were having fun outside, at my room's door, he, at the same time, was looking inside the house, to me (the older me); and smiling...

I woke up when he blinked his eye at me, as if saying “I am here”.

...

I know you are.


-----------------------------------------------------------------

para ti...

hoje acordei ás 8h sem nenhuma insónia a meio da noite. Foi bom para variar...

Acordei em cima da hora...

“ai meu deus tou atrasada!”

E saltei da cama. tropeçei antes de calçar os chinelos e corri para o duche, sem tempo, sem pensar, sem me dar conta do que me despertou.

A água corria e, ainda que atrasada, entrei só quando já me parecia bem quente.
Está tanto frio agora!

E relaxei... para então realmente acordar. Acordei para mais uma rotina, acordei para ir trabalhar. Acordei como faço todos os dias, acordei simplesmente...

e lembrei-me... lembrei-me do sonho que me despertou e que não queria que acabasse, lembrei-me que não queria acordar.

No sonho eu e o meu irmao, Nuno, com menos uns 20 anos, brincávamos na varanda de uma casa, que era a minha, mas a holandesa, esta onde eu não cresci, este onde escrevo agora.

Estávamos sentados nas cadeiras de plástico que tenho lá fora e tinhamos desviado o estendal para termos espaço para estar.

E eu, a inês crescida, estava no meu quarto a observar-nos lá fora, infantis, perdidos em abraços, em sorrisos.

ele a fazer-me cócigas e eu a rir, ele a agarrar-me e eu a fugir.

E enquanto eu e o nuno, novinhos, nos divertia-mos lá fora, à porta do meu quarto, ele, ao mesmo tempo, olhava para dentro de casa, para mim, a inês grande, e sorria...

acordei com ele a piscar-me o olho, como se me dissesse “estou aqui”.

...

eu sei que estás.

I love it...

...when the sun is shining outside in a winter afternoon.


...when I unexpectedly find good songs in the computer, lost in the middle of the thousand playlists that I still haven’t listened to.

Beth Orton - Stolen Car

...

...

gonna go for a walk now, with me and my music.

bye =)

a late saturday night, an early dawning sunday

almost 4 o´clock in the morning...
and I am doing nothing.

have just arrived from a not so long evening...
from a not so long day.

cannot see the moon from the window...
and cannot sleep as well.

but it's dark
the sky is clean
the weather silent, serene.

and I am here...
just doing nothing...
just resting from a not so tiring night
from 24 quiet and not so long hours.

eating chocolate
drinking a cinnamon tea
and listening to pieces of something
that I love Not less and less...

Kaiser Chiefs - Everyday I Love You Less and Less

the Locus Focus Big Brother definition!

by Tiago and Inês.

the NO good, the bad and the ugly,...

i.e,...

The Halloween.

















;)