<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17491547</id><updated>2012-02-12T00:24:04.113Z</updated><title type='text'>Estado D'Arte</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://estadodearte.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17491547/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://estadodearte.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Lourenzo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06428861594082069378</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>34</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17491547.post-8034369981582967012</id><published>2008-02-28T21:32:00.001Z</published><updated>2008-12-10T04:36:16.763Z</updated><title type='text'>Quotidiano</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_j0K_1LaLyWY/R8cpJG5GTxI/AAAAAAAAAAY/nrf4n7S3UFc/s1600-h/VincentTeuliere2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_j0K_1LaLyWY/R8cpJG5GTxI/AAAAAAAAAAY/nrf4n7S3UFc/s320/VincentTeuliere2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5172147933503966994" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;fotografia de, VincentTeuliere&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sei que acordei, mas ainda durmo. O meu corpo velho, moído e cansado diz-me que ainda é cedo... Numa letargia lúcida paraliso entre o sonho e a realidade, os dois mundos tocam-se, misturam-se, embrenham-se. Observo aquilo que não sei se é um sonho ou a realidade. Não sei onde estou ou quem sou, ainda é cedo...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saio à rua um vento frio e gélido toca-me o rosto. Olho à minha volta, e vejo "cinzentos",  pessoas de olhar vazio e andar taciturno, caminhando sem prestar atenção em seu redor, seguindo o mesmo caminho, o mesmo fio condutor de tantos outros dias, hoje será apenas mais um...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um quarto para as três, vejo papeis, papeis e mais papeis, a secretária encadernada de apontamentos, contratos e memorandos. Apetece-me gritar,fugir. O meu lugar não é aqui. Sinto-me deslocado, afastado do mundo, dos sonhos, da vida. Será isto um sonho ou a realidade?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A noite cai, fecho os olhos pesados e cansados, e amanhã será um novo dia. Amanhã voltarei a ser escravo da vida.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17491547-8034369981582967012?l=estadodearte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://estadodearte.blogspot.com/feeds/8034369981582967012/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17491547&amp;postID=8034369981582967012' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17491547/posts/default/8034369981582967012'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17491547/posts/default/8034369981582967012'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://estadodearte.blogspot.com/2008/02/quotidiano.html' title='Quotidiano'/><author><name>Lourenzo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06428861594082069378</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_j0K_1LaLyWY/R8cpJG5GTxI/AAAAAAAAAAY/nrf4n7S3UFc/s72-c/VincentTeuliere2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17491547.post-4635204287379877997</id><published>2007-03-07T21:18:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-12-10T04:36:16.911Z</updated><title type='text'>O silêncio</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_j0K_1LaLyWY/Re8tUrjS27I/AAAAAAAAAAM/DKwGDxajCm0/s1600-h/Paulo+Madeira.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5039296341362269106" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_j0K_1LaLyWY/Re8tUrjS27I/AAAAAAAAAAM/DKwGDxajCm0/s320/Paulo+Madeira.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Fotografia, de Paulo Madeira&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...A verdade, como o silêncio, existe apenas onde não estou. O silêncio existe por trás das palavras que se animam no meu interior, que se combatem, se destroem e que, nessa luta, abrem rasgões de sangue dentro de mim. Quando penso, o silêncio existe fora daquilo que penso. Quando paro de pensar e me fixo, por exemplo nas ruínas de uma casa, há vento que trás sons distantes e, então, o silêncio existe nos meus pensamentos. Intocado e intocável. Quando volto aos meus pensamentos, o silêncio regressa a essa casa morta. É também aí, nessa ausência de mim, que existe a verdade...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;José Luis Peixoto in Cemitério de Piano&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17491547-4635204287379877997?l=estadodearte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://estadodearte.blogspot.com/feeds/4635204287379877997/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17491547&amp;postID=4635204287379877997' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17491547/posts/default/4635204287379877997'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17491547/posts/default/4635204287379877997'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://estadodearte.blogspot.com/2007/03/o-silncio.html' title='O silêncio'/><author><name>Lourenzo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06428861594082069378</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_j0K_1LaLyWY/Re8tUrjS27I/AAAAAAAAAAM/DKwGDxajCm0/s72-c/Paulo+Madeira.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17491547.post-116251125636324169</id><published>2006-11-02T23:41:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-11-02T23:47:36.376Z</updated><title type='text'>Cara de Anjo Mau</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2296/1687/1600/Maria%20Flores.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2296/1687/320/Maria%20Flores.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;fotografia de, Maria Flores&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Os teus olhos são cor de pólvora,&lt;br /&gt;o teu cabelo é o rastilho&lt;br /&gt;O teu modo de andar é uma forma eficaz de atrair sarilho&lt;br /&gt;A tua silhueta é um mistério da criação&lt;br /&gt;E sobretudo tens&lt;br /&gt;cara de anjo mau&lt;br /&gt;Cara de anjo mau, tu deitas tudo a&lt;br /&gt;perder&lt;br /&gt;Basta um olhar teu e o chão começa a ceder&lt;br /&gt;Cara&lt;br /&gt;de anjo mau, contigo é facil cair&lt;br /&gt;Quem te ensinou a ser&lt;br /&gt;sempre a última a rir?&lt;br /&gt;Que posso eu fazer ao ver-te&lt;br /&gt;acenar a ferida universal?&lt;br /&gt;Que posso eu desejar ao avistar&lt;br /&gt;tão delicioso mar?&lt;br /&gt;Que posso eu parecer quando me sinto&lt;br /&gt;fora de mim?&lt;br /&gt;Que posso eu tentar senão ir até ao fim?&lt;br /&gt;Cara de anjo mau, tu deitas tudo a perder&lt;br /&gt;Basta um&lt;br /&gt;olhar teu e o chão começa a ceder&lt;br /&gt;Cara de anjo mau, contigo&lt;br /&gt;é facil cair&lt;br /&gt;Quem te ensinou a ser sempre a última a&lt;br /&gt;rir?&lt;br /&gt;Por ti mandava arranjar os dentes e comprava um&lt;br /&gt;colchão&lt;br /&gt;Por ti mandava embora o gato por quem eu tenho&lt;br /&gt;tanta afeição&lt;br /&gt;Por ti deixava de mater o dedo no meu&lt;br /&gt;nariz&lt;br /&gt;Por ti abandonava o meu país&lt;br /&gt;Cara de anjo&lt;br /&gt;mau, tu deitas tudo a perder&lt;br /&gt;Basta um olhar teu e o chão&lt;br /&gt;começa a ceder&lt;br /&gt;Cara de anjo mau, contigo é facil cair&lt;br /&gt;Quem te ensinou a ser sempre a última a rir?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Jorge Palma - Cara de Anjo Mau&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17491547-116251125636324169?l=estadodearte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://estadodearte.blogspot.com/feeds/116251125636324169/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17491547&amp;postID=116251125636324169' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17491547/posts/default/116251125636324169'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17491547/posts/default/116251125636324169'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://estadodearte.blogspot.com/2006/11/cara-de-anjo-mau.html' title='Cara de Anjo Mau'/><author><name>Lourenzo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06428861594082069378</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17491547.post-116051866658946112</id><published>2006-10-10T23:12:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-10-10T23:17:46.630+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Em fermentação</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2296/1687/1600/Helder%20Neves.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2296/1687/320/Helder%20Neves.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;fotografia de, Helder Neves&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Há muito tempo que não escrevo. Têm passado meses sem que viva, e vou durando, entre o escritório e a fisiologia, numa estagnação íntima de pensar e de sentir. Isto, infelizmente, não repousa: no apodrecimento há fermentação.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;do Livro do Desassossego - Bernardo Soares&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17491547-116051866658946112?l=estadodearte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://estadodearte.blogspot.com/feeds/116051866658946112/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17491547&amp;postID=116051866658946112' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17491547/posts/default/116051866658946112'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17491547/posts/default/116051866658946112'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://estadodearte.blogspot.com/2006/10/em-fermentao.html' title='Em fermentação'/><author><name>Lourenzo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06428861594082069378</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17491547.post-115999391477967492</id><published>2006-10-04T21:21:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-10-04T21:31:54.803+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Morrer de Amor</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2296/1687/1600/sweetcharade.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2296/1687/320/sweetcharade.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;fotografia de, sweetcharade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Morrer de amor ao pé da tua boca,&lt;br /&gt;Desfalecer a pele do teu sorriso&lt;br /&gt;Sufocar de prazer com o teu corpo&lt;br /&gt;Trocar tudo por ti se for preciso&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;poema de, Maria Teresa Horta&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17491547-115999391477967492?l=estadodearte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://estadodearte.blogspot.com/feeds/115999391477967492/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17491547&amp;postID=115999391477967492' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17491547/posts/default/115999391477967492'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17491547/posts/default/115999391477967492'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://estadodearte.blogspot.com/2006/10/morrer-de-amor.html' title='Morrer de Amor'/><author><name>Lourenzo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06428861594082069378</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17491547.post-115982807449344910</id><published>2006-10-02T23:23:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-10-02T23:27:54.506+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Fix You</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2296/1687/1600/Karina.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2296/1687/320/Karina.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;fotografia de, Karina&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;When you try your best but you don't succeed&lt;br /&gt;When you get what you want but not what you need&lt;br /&gt;When you feel so tired but you can't sleep&lt;br /&gt;Stuck in reverse&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the tears come streaming down your face&lt;br /&gt;When you lose something you can't replace&lt;br /&gt;When you love someone but it goes to waste&lt;br /&gt;Could it be worse?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Lights will guide you home&lt;br /&gt;And ignite your bones&lt;br /&gt;And I will try to fix you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And high up above or down below&lt;br /&gt;When you're too in love to let it go&lt;br /&gt;But if you never try you'll never know&lt;br /&gt;Just what you're worth&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Lights will guide you home&lt;br /&gt;And ignite your bones&lt;br /&gt;And I will try to fix you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Tears stream down your face&lt;br /&gt;when you lose something you cannot replace&lt;br /&gt;Tears stream down your face&lt;br /&gt;And I&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Tears stream down your face&lt;br /&gt;I promise you I will learn from my mistakes&lt;br /&gt;Tears stream down your face&lt;br /&gt;And I&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Lights will guide you home&lt;br /&gt;And ignite your bones&lt;br /&gt;And I will try to fix you&lt;/p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Fix you - Coldplay&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17491547-115982807449344910?l=estadodearte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://estadodearte.blogspot.com/feeds/115982807449344910/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17491547&amp;postID=115982807449344910' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17491547/posts/default/115982807449344910'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17491547/posts/default/115982807449344910'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://estadodearte.blogspot.com/2006/10/fix-you.html' title='Fix You'/><author><name>Lourenzo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06428861594082069378</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17491547.post-115757882862563917</id><published>2006-09-06T22:33:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-09-06T22:40:28.636+01:00</updated><title type='text'>At my most Beautiful</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2296/1687/1600/Maximiano%20Pestana.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2296/1687/320/Maximiano%20Pestana.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;fotografia de, Maximiano Pestana&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've found a way to make you smile&lt;br /&gt;I've found a way&lt;br /&gt;A way to make you smile&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I read bad poetry&lt;br /&gt;Into your machine.I save your messages&lt;br /&gt;Just to hear your voice.You always listen carefully&lt;br /&gt;To awkward rhymes.&lt;br /&gt;You always say your name,&lt;br /&gt;Like I wouldn't know it's you,&lt;br /&gt;At your most beautiful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've found a way to make you smile&lt;br /&gt;I've found a way&lt;br /&gt;A way to make you smile&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At my most beautiful&lt;br /&gt;I count your eyelashes, secretly.&lt;br /&gt;With every one, whisper I love you.&lt;br /&gt;I let you sleep.&lt;br /&gt;I know you're closed eye watching me,&lt;br /&gt;Listening.&lt;br /&gt;I though I saw a smile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've found a way to make you smile&lt;br /&gt;I've found a way&lt;br /&gt;A way to make you smile&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;At my most Beautiful - REM&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17491547-115757882862563917?l=estadodearte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://estadodearte.blogspot.com/feeds/115757882862563917/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17491547&amp;postID=115757882862563917' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17491547/posts/default/115757882862563917'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17491547/posts/default/115757882862563917'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://estadodearte.blogspot.com/2006/09/at-my-most-beautiful.html' title='At my most Beautiful'/><author><name>Lourenzo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06428861594082069378</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17491547.post-115446928812733649</id><published>2006-08-01T22:48:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-08-01T22:54:48.143+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Saudade</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2296/1687/1600/P.V..jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2296/1687/320/P.V..jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;fotografia de, P.V.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saudade é....&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ouvir a tua voz no silêncio,&lt;br /&gt;Ver o brilho dos teus olhos na escuridão da noite,&lt;br /&gt;Sentir o teu cheiro, horas, e horas após partires,&lt;br /&gt;Sentir o toque macio da tua pele quando não estás,&lt;br /&gt;Ficar com o sabor dos teus lábios...&lt;br /&gt;Mas sobretudo, é não estares aqui....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quero-te aqui, tenho saudades...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17491547-115446928812733649?l=estadodearte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://estadodearte.blogspot.com/feeds/115446928812733649/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17491547&amp;postID=115446928812733649' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17491547/posts/default/115446928812733649'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17491547/posts/default/115446928812733649'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://estadodearte.blogspot.com/2006/08/saudade.html' title='Saudade'/><author><name>Lourenzo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06428861594082069378</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17491547.post-115256949527964881</id><published>2006-07-10T22:59:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-07-10T23:11:35.330+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Tudo o que sou...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2296/1687/1600/Geoffroy%20Demarquet.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2296/1687/320/Geoffroy%20Demarquet.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;fotografia de, Geoffroy Demarque&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tudo o que sou não é mais do que abismo&lt;br /&gt;Em que uma vaga luz&lt;br /&gt;Com que sei que sou eu, e nisto cismo,&lt;br /&gt;Obscura me conduz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um intervalo entre não-ser e ser&lt;br /&gt;Feito de eu ter lugar&lt;br /&gt;Como o pó, que se vê o vento erguer,&lt;br /&gt;Vive de ele o mostrar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Fernando Pessoa&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17491547-115256949527964881?l=estadodearte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://estadodearte.blogspot.com/feeds/115256949527964881/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17491547&amp;postID=115256949527964881' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17491547/posts/default/115256949527964881'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17491547/posts/default/115256949527964881'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://estadodearte.blogspot.com/2006/07/tudo-o-que-sou.html' title='Tudo o que sou...'/><author><name>Lourenzo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06428861594082069378</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17491547.post-115222647299797529</id><published>2006-07-06T23:51:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-07-06T23:54:33.010+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Sorri</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2296/1687/1600/Frederico%20Dionisio.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2296/1687/320/Frederico%20Dionisio.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;fotografia, de Frederico Dionisio&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chiuuu, não precisas de falar, sorri, apenas sorri. Os teus lábios parecem ter sido desenhados milimetricamente com todo o pormenor, com todo o cuidado... O teu sorriso transmite calor, desejo, paz e alegria. Faz de mim o sortudo que contempla esse sorriso, e por favor sorri.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Sorri assim só para mim.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17491547-115222647299797529?l=estadodearte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://estadodearte.blogspot.com/feeds/115222647299797529/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17491547&amp;postID=115222647299797529' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17491547/posts/default/115222647299797529'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17491547/posts/default/115222647299797529'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://estadodearte.blogspot.com/2006/07/sorri.html' title='Sorri'/><author><name>Lourenzo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06428861594082069378</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17491547.post-115222498081165307</id><published>2006-07-06T23:25:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-07-06T23:29:40.826+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Se tu viesses ver-me</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2296/1687/1600/paulo%20custodio.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2296/1687/320/paulo%20custodio.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;fotografia, de Paulo Custódio&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Se tu viesses ver-me hoje à tardinha,&lt;br /&gt;A essa hora dos mágicos cansaços,&lt;br /&gt;Quando a noite de manso se avizinha,&lt;br /&gt;E me prendesses toda nos teus braços...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quando me lembra: esse sabor que tinha&lt;br /&gt;A tua boca... o eco dos teus passos...&lt;br /&gt;O teu riso de fonte... os teus abraços...&lt;br /&gt;Os teus beijos... a tua mão na minha...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Se tu viesses quando, linda e louca,&lt;br /&gt;Traça as linhas dulcíssimas dum beijo&lt;br /&gt;E é de seda vermelha e canta e ri&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E é como um cravo ao sol a minha boca...&lt;br /&gt;Quando os olhos se me cerram de desejo...&lt;br /&gt;E os meus braços se estendem para ti...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Florbela Espanca&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17491547-115222498081165307?l=estadodearte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://estadodearte.blogspot.com/feeds/115222498081165307/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17491547&amp;postID=115222498081165307' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17491547/posts/default/115222498081165307'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17491547/posts/default/115222498081165307'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://estadodearte.blogspot.com/2006/07/se-tu-viesses-ver-me.html' title='Se tu viesses ver-me'/><author><name>Lourenzo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06428861594082069378</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17491547.post-115040935881298486</id><published>2006-06-15T22:49:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-06-15T23:09:18.836+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Quero ver-te outra vez...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2296/1687/1600/j.p.sousa.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2296/1687/320/j.p.sousa.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;fotografia de, J. P. Sousa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Escrevo só eu sei&lt;br /&gt;Onde tu estiveres, eu estou bem&lt;br /&gt;Tudo começa sempre quando não se está a espera de mais ninguém&lt;br /&gt;Um primeiro olhar, pronto para começar&lt;br /&gt;O segundo e o terceiro&lt;br /&gt;Rezo para que desta vez seja tudo verdadeiro&lt;br /&gt;Lanço a palavra no papel&lt;br /&gt;A resposta sabe-me a mel&lt;br /&gt;A mais sincera de todas as artes fica sempre no pincel&lt;br /&gt;Depois disso fomos trocando apenas as imagens&lt;br /&gt;E só ao fim de muito tempo começaram as mensagens&lt;br /&gt;Ficamos os dois, várias vezes a conversar&lt;br /&gt;Olhar atrás de olhar&lt;br /&gt;Mas o primeiro passo fica sempre por dar&lt;br /&gt;Será que existe a tal "connection"&lt;br /&gt;Mesmo não estando nada à vista&lt;br /&gt;A única coisa que eu estou certo&lt;br /&gt;É de seres a minha "soulsista"&lt;br /&gt;Talvez seja por ambos não gostarmos de coisas muito fáceis&lt;br /&gt;Mas se for para dar certo, os meus tempos não são frágeis&lt;br /&gt;Vou-me sentar e esperar&lt;br /&gt;Porque o que eu sinto só eu sei&lt;br /&gt;Vou sonhar e viajar&lt;br /&gt;Para acordar com esse alguém&lt;br /&gt;Quero ver-te outra vez&lt;br /&gt;Quero ver-te outra vez&lt;br /&gt;Eu não peço demais&lt;br /&gt;Para quem espera&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Espero por ti…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Às vezes penso poderia ser tudo bem mais fácil&lt;br /&gt;Por cada minuto sem ti, um homem sente-se mais frágil&lt;br /&gt;Isto deveria ser uma canção de amor&lt;br /&gt;Mas é um simples desabafo&lt;br /&gt;Por isso baby, hã, sigo com mais um bafo&lt;br /&gt;Só eu sei, quantas vezes fiz tudo para te ver&lt;br /&gt;Só eu sei, quantas vezes não consegui adormecer&lt;br /&gt;Só eu sei, quantas vezes tentei respirar o ar que respiras&lt;br /&gt;Sentir o que tu sentes, viver as duas vidas"But i’m feeling good"&lt;br /&gt;E espero que sintas o mesmo neste momento&lt;br /&gt;A vida são 2 dias e ninguém para o nosso tempo&lt;br /&gt;O teu sorriso passa tudo o que eu já tenha visto&lt;br /&gt;E é por isso que eu persisto&lt;br /&gt;Dá-me o groove k eu insisto&lt;br /&gt;Dá-me mais, quero mais, sempre mais&lt;br /&gt;Quero conhecer os teus ideais&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Expensive Soul - album B.I&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17491547-115040935881298486?l=estadodearte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://estadodearte.blogspot.com/feeds/115040935881298486/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17491547&amp;postID=115040935881298486' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17491547/posts/default/115040935881298486'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17491547/posts/default/115040935881298486'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://estadodearte.blogspot.com/2006/06/quero-ver-te-outra-vez.html' title='Quero ver-te outra vez...'/><author><name>Lourenzo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06428861594082069378</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17491547.post-114919938959017129</id><published>2006-06-01T22:55:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-06-01T23:03:11.893+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Longa Espera</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2296/1687/1600/Jose%20Neves.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2296/1687/320/Jose%20Neves.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;fotografia de, José Neves&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Espero o amanhã que tarda em vir,&lt;br /&gt;o amanhecer que custa a despertar,&lt;br /&gt;um sorriso que me faça sentir menino,&lt;br /&gt;um beijo que me faça esquecer o medo,&lt;br /&gt;Mas sobretudo fico à espera.....&lt;br /&gt;fico à espera...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;À espera de ti....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17491547-114919938959017129?l=estadodearte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://estadodearte.blogspot.com/feeds/114919938959017129/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17491547&amp;postID=114919938959017129' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17491547/posts/default/114919938959017129'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17491547/posts/default/114919938959017129'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://estadodearte.blogspot.com/2006/06/longa-espera.html' title='Longa Espera'/><author><name>Lourenzo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06428861594082069378</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17491547.post-114833260397526342</id><published>2006-05-22T22:01:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-05-22T22:16:43.986+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Nem sempre é fácil</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2296/1687/1600/Joao%20Santiago.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2296/1687/320/Joao%20Santiago.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;fotografia de João Santiago&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nem sempre é fácil viver&lt;br /&gt;Cada momento destes&lt;br /&gt;Nem sempre é fácil seguir&lt;br /&gt;O caminho que escolhemos&lt;br /&gt;Nem tudo aquilo que vemos&lt;br /&gt;Que gira à nossa volta&lt;br /&gt;Manter a calma até esquecer&lt;br /&gt;Toda a revolta&lt;br /&gt;Que sentimos quando... temos alguns problemas&lt;br /&gt;Tudo isto são esquemas&lt;br /&gt;Por isso eu quero que aprendas&lt;br /&gt;Que a vida não é fácil&lt;br /&gt;Se é que me 'tás a entender&lt;br /&gt;Se te sentes feliz,&lt;br /&gt;Vive a vida com prazer.&lt;br /&gt;Nem sempre é fácil&lt;br /&gt;Acreditar em pessoas conhecidas&lt;br /&gt;Pessoas que nos traem&lt;br /&gt;Dizendo que são nossas amigas&lt;br /&gt;Vou aprendendo com o tempo a viver neste mundo&lt;br /&gt;Um mundo de hipocrisia&lt;br /&gt;Acima de tudo...&lt;br /&gt;Um mundo de ilusões&lt;br /&gt;Cheio de ilusionistas&lt;br /&gt;Um mundo de trapézios&lt;br /&gt;Com falsos trapezistas&lt;br /&gt;Nem sempre é fácil&lt;br /&gt;Aceitar toda a verdade&lt;br /&gt;Quando algo nos corre mal&lt;br /&gt;E pensamos que é falsidade&lt;br /&gt;Deixa de ser falso e aceita a realidade&lt;br /&gt;Porque nem sempre é fácil ser aceite na sociedade&lt;br /&gt;Às vezes penso se a vida tem significado&lt;br /&gt;É que é sempre a mesma rotina e às vezes fico cansado.&lt;br /&gt;O fácil torna-se difícil&lt;br /&gt;O difícil torna-se complicado&lt;br /&gt;No mundo que vejo&lt;br /&gt;E torna-se tudo trocado.&lt;br /&gt;Sigo outro rumo&lt;br /&gt;Não consigo mudar o tempo&lt;br /&gt;Por isso ando sempre atento&lt;br /&gt;Movimento e represento.&lt;br /&gt;Barreira é a minha cidade&lt;br /&gt;Foi aqui que eu cresci&lt;br /&gt;Onde eu todo este tempo aprendi&lt;br /&gt;Que o mundo não corre da maneira como a gente quer&lt;br /&gt;Tens que 'tar preparado p'ro que der e vier&lt;br /&gt;Aceita quem te ama&lt;br /&gt;Despreza quem não te merece&lt;br /&gt;Quem hoje te fala na rua e&lt;br /&gt;Amanhã não te conhece&lt;br /&gt;Só interesses e hipocrisias que reina nesta sociedade&lt;br /&gt;Mas vai-te habituando&lt;br /&gt;Que esta é a nossa realidade.&lt;br /&gt;Nem sempre é fácil ver tudo o que 'tá à nossa frente&lt;br /&gt;Esquece o passado,&lt;br /&gt;Não penses no futuro&lt;br /&gt;Vive apenas o presente.&lt;br /&gt;Hoje tudo corre bem,&lt;br /&gt;Amanha já é o contrário.&lt;br /&gt;É o destimo que manda,&lt;br /&gt;Um destino que é lendário,&lt;br /&gt;Que te persegue desde os tempos primitivos&lt;br /&gt;Porque nem sempre é fácil&lt;br /&gt;Obter os nossos objectivos&lt;br /&gt;E esses objectivos sao aqueles que tu escolhes&lt;br /&gt;Por isso penso no que te digo&lt;br /&gt;E abre os olhos...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É mesmo assim....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Myth - Nem sempre é fácil&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17491547-114833260397526342?l=estadodearte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://estadodearte.blogspot.com/feeds/114833260397526342/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17491547&amp;postID=114833260397526342' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17491547/posts/default/114833260397526342'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17491547/posts/default/114833260397526342'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://estadodearte.blogspot.com/2006/05/nem-sempre-fcil.html' title='Nem sempre é fácil'/><author><name>Lourenzo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06428861594082069378</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17491547.post-114772907418152101</id><published>2006-05-15T22:29:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-05-15T22:37:54.193+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Waiting for you</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2296/1687/1600/Pauline%20Dervechian%20Luis.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2296/1687/320/Pauline%20Dervechian%20Luis.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;fotografia de, Pauline Deverchian Luis&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I' ve been waiting for you&lt;br /&gt;I' ve been waiting for you&lt;br /&gt;Never found enything else to do&lt;br /&gt;But waiting for you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I' ve been calling your name&lt;br /&gt;I' ve been calling your name&lt;br /&gt;Never found anything else to say&lt;br /&gt;Nothing to say&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can kill a lot of time if you really want put your mind do it&lt;br /&gt;Leave it all behind if you never wanna go through it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I keep hearing your name&lt;br /&gt;I keep hearing your name&lt;br /&gt;Nothing else sounds the same&lt;br /&gt;As hearing your name&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can kill a lot of time if you really put your mind to it&lt;br /&gt;Or leave it all behind and never ever go through it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I' ve been hoping for you&lt;br /&gt;Keep hoping for you&lt;br /&gt;What else can I do But keep hoping for you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can kill a lot of time if you really put your mind to it&lt;br /&gt;Or leave it all behind and never ever go through it&lt;br /&gt;We can kill a lot and never really have to go through it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What else can I do But keep hoping for you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Musica de Ben Harper - Waiting for you (album: Both sides of the gun)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17491547-114772907418152101?l=estadodearte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://estadodearte.blogspot.com/feeds/114772907418152101/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17491547&amp;postID=114772907418152101' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17491547/posts/default/114772907418152101'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17491547/posts/default/114772907418152101'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://estadodearte.blogspot.com/2006/05/waiting-for-you.html' title='Waiting for you'/><author><name>Lourenzo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06428861594082069378</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17491547.post-114738578569068247</id><published>2006-05-11T23:11:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-05-11T23:16:25.706+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Affair of hearts</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2296/1687/1600/Helder%20Magalhaes.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2296/1687/320/Helder%20Magalhaes.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;fotografia de, Helder Magalhães&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Distance doesn't matter, being close is an affair of hearts"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;by Autor desconhecido&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17491547-114738578569068247?l=estadodearte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://estadodearte.blogspot.com/feeds/114738578569068247/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17491547&amp;postID=114738578569068247' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17491547/posts/default/114738578569068247'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17491547/posts/default/114738578569068247'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://estadodearte.blogspot.com/2006/05/affair-of-hearts.html' title='Affair of hearts'/><author><name>Lourenzo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06428861594082069378</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17491547.post-114712543967014711</id><published>2006-05-08T22:53:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-05-08T22:57:19.683+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Máscaras</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2296/1687/1600/Pedro%20P.%20Palma.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" height="274" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2296/1687/320/Pedro%20P.%20Palma.jpg" width="296" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;fotografia, de Pedro. P. Palma&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Há muitas máscaras, tantas quantas as ocasiões e os destinos. Certos animais escondem-se por sua própria vontade, outros vivem ocultos sem saberem disso, como se usassem máscara. Pode ser uma máscara de cores garridas, que nem sequer conseguem ver. Sem a máscara, não conseguimos segurar a tristeza ou a alegria, seríamos incontinentes emocionais (à quem lhe chame "transparência"), o que nos deixaria à beira de um "canibalismo" social...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sob uma máscara tudo se oculta - o Bem, o Mal, a Alegria a Tristeza, o Amor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Deixa cair a porcaria da máscara, não tenhas medo.... Vive, Sorri, Chora e ama, mas sê verdadeiro(a)!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17491547-114712543967014711?l=estadodearte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://estadodearte.blogspot.com/feeds/114712543967014711/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17491547&amp;postID=114712543967014711' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17491547/posts/default/114712543967014711'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17491547/posts/default/114712543967014711'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://estadodearte.blogspot.com/2006/05/mscaras.html' title='Máscaras'/><author><name>Lourenzo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06428861594082069378</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17491547.post-114685826475652130</id><published>2006-05-05T20:36:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-05-05T20:44:24.770+01:00</updated><title type='text'>O significado das Rosas</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2296/1687/1600/Paulo%20Medeiros.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2296/1687/320/Paulo%20Medeiros.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;fotografia, de Paulo Medeiros&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As rosas assumem diversos significados de acordo com as cores que as suas pétalas apresentam. Mas a roseira é uma planta tão emblemática, que até mesmo suas folhas tem um significado especial: esperança. Uma coroa de rosas, por sua vez, significa recompensa ou virtude, enquanto um ramo de rosas desabrochadas quer dizer gratidão.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Rosa Vermelha: &lt;/strong&gt;A rosa vermelha, a mais desejada e admirada entre todas as outras, simboliza o amor; porém quando as rosas vermelhas vierem acompanhadas por rosas brancas, o ramalhete assume o significado de unidade. Além de amor, estas flores vermelhas também podem traduzir mensagens de respeito e coragem. Quando apresentam tons bem escuros querem se referir a uma beleza inconsciente.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Rosa Cor-de-rosa:&lt;/strong&gt; As rosas cor-de-rosa em tom mais escuro querem dizer gratidão e estima, enquanto as de tom mais claro significam admiração e simpatia. Mas, em geral, a cor-de-rosa nessas flores tem conotação de graça e gentileza.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Rosa Cor-de-laranja:&lt;/strong&gt; As rosas cor-de-laranja ou coral significam entusiasmo e desejo e as rosas-de-chá híbridas querem dizer "sempre me lembrarei de ti".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Rosa Branca: &lt;/strong&gt;As brancas, por sua vez, assumem vários sentidos, como os de inocência e pureza, reverência e humildade ou de segredo e silêncio. Também significam que quem está a oferecê-las está a tentar dizer: "sou digno de ti" ou "tu és celestial".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Rosa Amarela:&lt;/strong&gt; Em geral, as rosas amarelas significam satisfação e alegria, mas podem servir como advertência: "tens que ter mais cuidado". Quando combinadas com as rosas vermelhas remetem para sentimentos joviais e de felicidade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Botões de Rosa: &lt;/strong&gt;Os botões de rosas têm significados distintos das flores já desabrochadas. Os vermelhos querem dizer "pura e encantadora", enquanto os brancos sugerem que a moça é "nova demais para amar".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Duas rosas unidas pelos pés:&lt;/strong&gt; Duas rosas amarradas uma à outra e unidas pelos pés, significam noivado ou casamento próximo, enquanto uma rosa desabrochada colocada acima de dois botões funcionam como um pedido de segredo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E tu que rosa queres?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;retirado de de http://1001cartasdeamor.terra.com.br/dflores/rosas.asp&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17491547-114685826475652130?l=estadodearte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://estadodearte.blogspot.com/feeds/114685826475652130/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17491547&amp;postID=114685826475652130' title='19 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17491547/posts/default/114685826475652130'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17491547/posts/default/114685826475652130'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://estadodearte.blogspot.com/2006/05/o-significado-das-rosas.html' title='O significado das Rosas'/><author><name>Lourenzo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06428861594082069378</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>19</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17491547.post-114668989957802130</id><published>2006-05-03T21:51:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-05-03T22:02:08.210+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Triste</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2296/1687/1600/Paulo%20Medeiros%202.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2296/1687/320/Paulo%20Medeiros%202.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;fotografia de Paulo Medeiros&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Verifico que, tantas vezes alegre, tantas vezes contente, estou sempre triste."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;de Bernardo Soares in "Livro do Desassossego"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17491547-114668989957802130?l=estadodearte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://estadodearte.blogspot.com/feeds/114668989957802130/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17491547&amp;postID=114668989957802130' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17491547/posts/default/114668989957802130'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17491547/posts/default/114668989957802130'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://estadodearte.blogspot.com/2006/05/triste.html' title='Triste'/><author><name>Lourenzo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06428861594082069378</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17491547.post-114648558141199325</id><published>2006-05-01T13:07:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-05-01T14:57:21.433+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Adeus II</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2296/1687/1600/Joao%20Duarte%20Oliveira%20Marques.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 223px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 252px" height="316" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2296/1687/320/Joao%20Duarte%20Oliveira%20Marques.0.jpg" width="217" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;fotografia de João Duarte Oliveira Marques&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Já gastámos as palavras pela rua, meu amor,&lt;br /&gt;e o que nos ficou não chega&lt;br /&gt;para afastar o frio de quatro paredes.&lt;br /&gt;Gastámos tudo menos o silêncio.&lt;br /&gt;Gastámos os olhos com o sal das lágrimas,&lt;br /&gt;gastámos as mãos à força de as apertarmos,&lt;br /&gt;gastámos o relógio e as pedras das esquinas&lt;br /&gt;em esperas inúteis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meto as mãos nas algibeiras e não encontro nada.&lt;br /&gt;Antigamente tínhamos tanto para dar um ao outro;&lt;br /&gt;era como se todas as coisas fossem minhas:&lt;br /&gt;quanto mais te dava mais tinha para te dar.&lt;br /&gt;Às vezes tu dizias: os teus olhos são peixes verdes.&lt;br /&gt;E eu acreditava.&lt;br /&gt;Acreditava,&lt;br /&gt;porque ao teu lado&lt;br /&gt;todas as coisas eram possíveis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas isso era no tempo dos segredos,&lt;br /&gt;era no tempo em que o teu corpo era um aquário,&lt;br /&gt;era no tempo em que os meus olhos&lt;br /&gt;eram realmente peixes verdes.&lt;br /&gt;Hoje são apenas os meus olhos.&lt;br /&gt;É pouco mas é verdade,&lt;br /&gt;uns olhos como todos os outros.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Já gastámos as palavras.&lt;br /&gt;Quando agora digo: meu amor,&lt;br /&gt;já não se passa absolutamente nada.&lt;br /&gt;E no entanto, antes das palavras gastas,&lt;br /&gt;tenho a certezade que todas as coisas estremeciam&lt;br /&gt;só de murmurar o teu nome&lt;br /&gt;no silêncio do meu coração.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não temos já nada para dar.&lt;br /&gt;Dentro de ti&lt;br /&gt;não há nada que me peça água.&lt;br /&gt;O passado é inútil como um trapo.&lt;br /&gt;E já te disse: as palavras estão gastas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adeus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;de Eugénio de Andrade&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17491547-114648558141199325?l=estadodearte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://estadodearte.blogspot.com/feeds/114648558141199325/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17491547&amp;postID=114648558141199325' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17491547/posts/default/114648558141199325'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17491547/posts/default/114648558141199325'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://estadodearte.blogspot.com/2006/05/adeus-ii.html' title='Adeus II'/><author><name>Lourenzo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06428861594082069378</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17491547.post-114595489603021556</id><published>2006-04-25T09:45:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-04-25T11:32:28.086+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Adeus</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2296/1687/1600/Paulo%20Pinto.4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2296/1687/320/Paulo%20Pinto.4.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;fotografia de, Paulo Pinto&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Adeus.&lt;br /&gt;- Diz qualquer coisa antes de partires, não me deixes assim sem noticias, não me deixes na confusão....&lt;br /&gt;- Adeus.&lt;br /&gt;- Não achas que adeus é uma palavra forte?&lt;br /&gt;- Adeus.&lt;br /&gt;- É um adeus que não mais se vai tornar em "Olá"?&lt;br /&gt;- Adeus.&lt;br /&gt;- É um adeus que significa "Fim"?&lt;br /&gt;- Adeus.&lt;br /&gt;- Não te chegam as palavras e os meus lábios? E é esse o teu adeus disfarçado de beijo?&lt;br /&gt;- O adeus faz parte da vida... E o nosso já chegou... Adeus!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17491547-114595489603021556?l=estadodearte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://estadodearte.blogspot.com/feeds/114595489603021556/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17491547&amp;postID=114595489603021556' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17491547/posts/default/114595489603021556'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17491547/posts/default/114595489603021556'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://estadodearte.blogspot.com/2006/04/adeus.html' title='Adeus'/><author><name>Lourenzo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06428861594082069378</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17491547.post-114570376624221384</id><published>2006-04-22T11:59:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-04-22T12:02:46.256+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2296/1687/1600/Fipas.3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2296/1687/320/Fipas.3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;fotografia, de Fipas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"E não sei o que sinto, não sei o que quero sentir, não sei o que penso nem o que sou"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;de Bernardo Soares in Livro do Desassossego&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17491547-114570376624221384?l=estadodearte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://estadodearte.blogspot.com/feeds/114570376624221384/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17491547&amp;postID=114570376624221384' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17491547/posts/default/114570376624221384'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17491547/posts/default/114570376624221384'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://estadodearte.blogspot.com/2006/04/fotografia-de-fipas-e-no-sei-o-que.html' title=''/><author><name>Lourenzo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06428861594082069378</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17491547.post-114548425563676540</id><published>2006-04-19T23:00:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-04-19T23:04:15.670+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Cala-te!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2296/1687/1600/sweetcharade.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2296/1687/320/sweetcharade.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;fotografia de, sweetcharade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não digas nada...&lt;br /&gt;É pecado se disseres.... É segredo se falares!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não digas nada...&lt;br /&gt;As palavras são ôcas... Os sons são surdos!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não digas nada...&lt;br /&gt;Ouve e escuta.... Sentes o bater do coração?&lt;br /&gt;O pulsar da vida que à em mim...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não digas nada...&lt;br /&gt;Escuta e sente... O carinho que tenho por ti!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não digas nada...&lt;br /&gt;Ama e Sorri...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17491547-114548425563676540?l=estadodearte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://estadodearte.blogspot.com/feeds/114548425563676540/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17491547&amp;postID=114548425563676540' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17491547/posts/default/114548425563676540'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17491547/posts/default/114548425563676540'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://estadodearte.blogspot.com/2006/04/cala-te.html' title='Cala-te!!!'/><author><name>Lourenzo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06428861594082069378</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17491547.post-114539708864607215</id><published>2006-04-18T22:45:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-04-18T22:51:28.663+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Marcas</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2296/1687/1600/bart%202.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2296/1687/320/bart%202.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;fotografia, bart&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Basta apenas um sorriso, um olhar, uma breve troca de palavras e... pronto... O Cupido(o estúpido) faz das suas e de repente o cinzento do quotidiano transforma-se num mundo cheio de côr, as emoções agudizam-se sem que as possamos controlar, parecemos autenticos garotos que ficam fascinados com um gesto, um sorriso. Para os apaixonados, o amor é fruto de uma tremenda coincidência. Para outros, é um resultado do destino e da caprichosa combinação entre os astros. E para ti o que é?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- "Sabes no que te estás a meter?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- "Não, e tu?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- "Não, tenho medo de errar. Não quero um compromisso!!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- "Eu tambem não te estou a pedir um compromisso..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E basta um beijo e umas palavras que todo o castelo se desfaz, tudo o que nos parecia perfeito desaparece... tudo fica cinzentão novamente. E os socos secos no estômago prosseguem... sem dó nem piedade, mais um soco... mais uma marca. E as marcas ficam, vão atenuando com o tempo... mas ficam as marcas!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17491547-114539708864607215?l=estadodearte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://estadodearte.blogspot.com/feeds/114539708864607215/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17491547&amp;postID=114539708864607215' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17491547/posts/default/114539708864607215'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17491547/posts/default/114539708864607215'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://estadodearte.blogspot.com/2006/04/marcas.html' title='Marcas'/><author><name>Lourenzo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06428861594082069378</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17491547.post-114099616186410242</id><published>2006-02-26T23:16:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-02-26T23:22:41.880Z</updated><title type='text'>Cidade</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2296/1687/1600/Miguel%20Resende.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2296/1687/320/Miguel%20Resende.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2296/1687/1600/Miguel%20Resende.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;fotografia de Miguel Resende&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A cidade é um chão de palavras pisadas&lt;br /&gt;a palavra criança a palavra segredo.&lt;br /&gt;A cidade é um céu de palavras paradas&lt;br /&gt;a palavra distância e a palavra medo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A cidade é um saco um pulmão que respira&lt;br /&gt;pela palavra água pela palavra brisa&lt;br /&gt;A cidade é um poro um corpo que transpira&lt;br /&gt;pela palavra sangue pela palavra ira.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A cidade tem praças de palavras abertas&lt;br /&gt;como estátuas mandadas apear.&lt;br /&gt;A cidade tem ruas de palavras desertas&lt;br /&gt;como jardins mandados arrancar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A palavra sarcasmo é uma rosa rubra.&lt;br /&gt;A palavra silêncio é uma rosa chá.&lt;br /&gt;Não há céu de palavras que a cidade não cubra&lt;br /&gt;não há rua de sons que a palavra não corra&lt;br /&gt;à procura da sombra de uma luz que não há.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;de José Carlos Ary dos Santos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17491547-114099616186410242?l=estadodearte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://estadodearte.blogspot.com/feeds/114099616186410242/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17491547&amp;postID=114099616186410242' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17491547/posts/default/114099616186410242'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17491547/posts/default/114099616186410242'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://estadodearte.blogspot.com/2006/02/cidade.html' title='Cidade'/><author><name>Lourenzo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06428861594082069378</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17491547.post-113995370137167361</id><published>2006-02-14T21:40:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-02-14T21:48:21.410Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2296/1687/1600/ipnoz.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 326px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 238px" height="84" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2296/1687/320/ipnoz.jpg" width="112" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Fotografia de, Ipnoz&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As ruas podem mudar, mas eu estou lá. Puxa o sol para junto de ti, ilumina todos os teus silêncios de mim, de mim!!! Faz qualquer coisa para mim… Acende uma vela junto à tua janela. Se algum dia te faltar alguém, eu estou aqui. Continuo com o mesmo olhar, com o mesmo sorriso, eu estou aqui!!! Puxa o sol para junto de ti e ilumina os teus silêncios junto de mim….&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Adaptação livre de um texto do livro "Preciso de Ti" de Pedro Stretch&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17491547-113995370137167361?l=estadodearte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://estadodearte.blogspot.com/feeds/113995370137167361/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17491547&amp;postID=113995370137167361' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17491547/posts/default/113995370137167361'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17491547/posts/default/113995370137167361'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://estadodearte.blogspot.com/2006/02/fotografia-de-ipnoz-as-ruas-podem.html' title=''/><author><name>Lourenzo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06428861594082069378</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17491547.post-113650181533967354</id><published>2006-01-05T22:46:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-01-05T22:56:55.373Z</updated><title type='text'>Problema de Expressão</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2296/1687/1600/Joana%20Lor??a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2296/1687/320/Joana%20Lor%3F%3Fa.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Fotografia de, Joana Lorça&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Por vezes sinto pena de não ter escrito esta letra, pois é algo que para mim faz muito sentido. Por vezes as palavras  não saem, saem coisas sem sentido que mais parecem que não estou a sentir.... e isto tudo &lt;strong&gt;só&lt;/strong&gt; porque &lt;strong&gt;te amo&lt;/strong&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Clã - Problema de Expressão&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Só pra dizer que te Amo,&lt;br /&gt;Nem sempre encontro o melhor termo,&lt;br /&gt;Nem sempre escolho o melhor modo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Devia ser como no cinema,&lt;br /&gt;A língua inglesa fica sempre bem&lt;br /&gt;E nunca atraiçoa ninguém.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;O teu mundo está tão perto do meu&lt;br /&gt;E o que digo está tão longe,&lt;br /&gt;Como o mar está do céu.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Só pra dizer que te Amo&lt;br /&gt;Não sei porquê este embaraço&lt;br /&gt;Que mais parece que só te estimo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E até nos momentos em que digo que não quero&lt;br /&gt;E o que sinto por ti são coisas confusas&lt;br /&gt;E até parece que estou a mentir,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;As palavras custam a sair,&lt;br /&gt;Não digo o que estou a sentir,&lt;br /&gt;Digo o contrário do que estou a sentir.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O teu mundo está tão perto do meu&lt;br /&gt;E o que digo está tão longe,&lt;br /&gt;Como o mar está do céu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E é tão difícil dizer amor,&lt;br /&gt;É bem melhor dizê-lo a cantar.&lt;br /&gt;Por isso esta noite, fiz esta canção,&lt;br /&gt;Para resolver o meu problema de expressão,&lt;br /&gt;Pra ficar mais perto, bem mais de perto.&lt;br /&gt;Ficar mais perto, bem mais de perto.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17491547-113650181533967354?l=estadodearte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://estadodearte.blogspot.com/feeds/113650181533967354/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17491547&amp;postID=113650181533967354' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17491547/posts/default/113650181533967354'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17491547/posts/default/113650181533967354'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://estadodearte.blogspot.com/2006/01/problema-de-expresso.html' title='Problema de Expressão'/><author><name>Lourenzo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06428861594082069378</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17491547.post-113356268480714809</id><published>2005-12-02T22:27:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-12-02T22:31:24.810Z</updated><title type='text'>Carta ao Pai Natal</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Fica aqui uma mensagem importante e um pedido ao Pai Natal, ou pelo menos a alguem a quem estas palavras possam fazer algum sentido....&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Olá Pai Natal &lt;br /&gt;É a primeira vez que escrevo para ti&lt;br /&gt;Venho de Lisboa e o pessoal chama-me AC&lt;br /&gt;Desculpa o atrevimento mas tenho alguns pedidos&lt;br /&gt;Espero que não fiquem nalguma prateleira esquecidos&lt;br /&gt;Como nunca te pedi nada &lt;br /&gt;Peço tudo duma vez e fica a conversa despachada&lt;br /&gt;Talvez aches os pedidos meio extravagantes&lt;br /&gt;Queria que pusesses juízo na cabeça destes governantes&lt;br /&gt;Tira-lhes as armas e a vontade da guerra&lt;br /&gt;É que se não acabamos a pedir-te uma nova Terra&lt;br /&gt;Ao sem-abrigo indigente, dá-lhe uma vida decente&lt;br /&gt;E arranja-lhe trabalho em vez de mais uma sopa quente&lt;br /&gt;E ao pobre coitado, e ao desempregado&lt;br /&gt;Arranja-lhe um emprego em que ele não se sinta explorado&lt;br /&gt;E ao soldado, manda-o de volta para junto da mulher&lt;br /&gt;Acredita que é isso que ele quer&lt;br /&gt;Vai ver África de perto, não vejas pelos jornais&lt;br /&gt;Dá de comer ás crianças ergue escolas e hospitais&lt;br /&gt;Cura as doenças e distribui vacinas&lt;br /&gt;Dá carrinhos aos meninos e bonecas ás meninas&lt;br /&gt;E dá-lhes paz e alegria&lt;br /&gt;Ao idoso sozinho em casa, arranja-lhe boa companhia&lt;br /&gt;Já sei que só ofereces aos meninos bem comportados&lt;br /&gt;Mas alguns portam-se mal e dás condomínios fechados&lt;br /&gt;Jactos privados, carros topo de gama importados&lt;br /&gt;Grandes ordenados, apagas pecados a culpados&lt;br /&gt;Desculpa o pouco entusiasmo, não me leves a mal&lt;br /&gt;Não percebo como é que isto se tornou um feriado comercial&lt;br /&gt;Parece que é desculpa para um ano de costas voltadas&lt;br /&gt;E a única coisa que interessa é se as prendas tão compradas&lt;br /&gt;E quando passa o Natal, dás á sola?&lt;br /&gt;Há quem diga que tu não existes, quem te inventou foi a Coca-Cola&lt;br /&gt;Não te preocupes, que eu não digo a ninguém&lt;br /&gt;Se és Pai Natal é porque és pai de alguém&lt;br /&gt;Para mim Natal é a qualquer hora, basta querer&lt;br /&gt;Gosto de dar e não preciso de pretextos para oferecer&lt;br /&gt;E já agora para acabar, sem querer abusar&lt;br /&gt;Dá-nos Paz e Amor e nem é preciso embrulhar&lt;br /&gt;Muita Felicidade, saúde acima de tudo&lt;br /&gt;Se puderes dá-nos boas notas com pouco estudo&lt;br /&gt;Desculpa o incómodo e continua com as tuas prendas&lt;br /&gt;Feliz Natal para ti e já agora baixa as rendas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By Boss AC - Carta ao Pai Natal&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17491547-113356268480714809?l=estadodearte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17491547/posts/default/113356268480714809'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17491547/posts/default/113356268480714809'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://estadodearte.blogspot.com/2005/12/carta-ao-pai-natal.html' title='Carta ao Pai Natal'/><author><name>Lourenzo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06428861594082069378</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17491547.post-113356222818613908</id><published>2005-12-02T22:15:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-12-02T22:26:27.486Z</updated><title type='text'>A Imortalidade de um artista....</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2296/1687/1600/sophie%20thouvenin.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2296/1687/320/sophie%20thouvenin.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Fotografia: Sophie Thouvenin&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Fez ontem 70 anos que Fernando Pessoa nos deixou..... Mas ele e a sua obra continuam imortais....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;tr&gt; &lt;/tr&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Teus olhos entristecem.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Nem ouves o que digo.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Dormem, sonham esquecem...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Não me ouves, e prossigo. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Digo o que já, de triste,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Te disse tanta vez...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Creio que nunca o ouviste&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;De tão tua que és.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Olhas-me de repente&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;De um distante impreciso&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Com um olhar ausente.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Começas um sorriso. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Continuo a falar.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Continuas ouvindo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;O que estás a pensar,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Já quase não sorrindo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Até que neste ocioso&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Sumir da tarde fútil,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Se esfolha silencioso&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;O teu sorriso inútil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Fernando Pessoa&lt;/strong&gt;, 19-10-1935 &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17491547-113356222818613908?l=estadodearte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17491547/posts/default/113356222818613908'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17491547/posts/default/113356222818613908'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://estadodearte.blogspot.com/2005/12/imortalidade-de-um-artista.html' title='A Imortalidade de um artista....'/><author><name>Lourenzo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06428861594082069378</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17491547.post-113123418223197685</id><published>2005-11-06T07:42:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-11-05T23:43:02.240Z</updated><title type='text'>Goodbye my Lover</title><content type='html'>Deixo aqui a letra de uma das músicas mais bonitas do álbum &lt;em&gt;Back do Bedlam&lt;/em&gt; de &lt;strong&gt;James Blunt&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Goodbye my Lover&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did I disappoint you or let you down?&lt;br /&gt;Should I be feeling guilty or let the judges frown?&lt;br /&gt;'Cause I saw the end before we'd begun,&lt;br /&gt;Yes I saw you were blinded and I knew I had won.&lt;br /&gt;So I took what's mine by eternal right.&lt;br /&gt;Took your soul out into the night.&lt;br /&gt;It may be over but it won't stop there,&lt;br /&gt;I am here for you if you'd only care.&lt;br /&gt;You touched my heart you touched my soul.&lt;br /&gt;You changed my life and all my goals.&lt;br /&gt;And love is blind and that I knew when,&lt;br /&gt;My heart was blinded by you.&lt;br /&gt;I've kissed your lips and held your head.&lt;br /&gt;Shared your dreams and shared your bed.&lt;br /&gt;I know you well, I know your smell.&lt;br /&gt;I've been addicted to you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Goodbye my lover.&lt;br /&gt;Goodbye my friend.&lt;br /&gt;You have been the one.&lt;br /&gt;You have been the one for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a dreamer but when I wake,&lt;br /&gt;You can't break my spirit - it's my dreams you take.&lt;br /&gt;And as you move on, remember me,&lt;br /&gt;Remember us and all we used to be&lt;br /&gt;I've seen you cry, I've seen you smile.&lt;br /&gt;I've watched you sleeping for a while.&lt;br /&gt;I'd be the father of your child.&lt;br /&gt;I'd spend a lifetime with you.&lt;br /&gt;I know your fears and you know mine.&lt;br /&gt;We've had our doubts but now we're fine,&lt;br /&gt;And I love you, I swear that's true.&lt;br /&gt;I cannot live without you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Goodbye my lover.&lt;br /&gt;Goodbye my friend.&lt;br /&gt;You have been the one.&lt;br /&gt;You have been the one for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I still hold your hand in mine.&lt;br /&gt;In mine when I'm asleep.&lt;br /&gt;And I will bear my soul in time,&lt;br /&gt;When I'm kneeling at your feet.&lt;br /&gt;Goodbye my lover.&lt;br /&gt;Goodbye my friend.&lt;br /&gt;You have been the one.&lt;br /&gt;You have been the one for me.&lt;br /&gt;I'm so hollow, baby, I'm so hollow.&lt;br /&gt;I'm so, I'm so, I'm so hollow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17491547-113123418223197685?l=estadodearte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://estadodearte.blogspot.com/feeds/113123418223197685/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17491547&amp;postID=113123418223197685' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17491547/posts/default/113123418223197685'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17491547/posts/default/113123418223197685'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://estadodearte.blogspot.com/2005/11/goodbye-my-lover.html' title='Goodbye my Lover'/><author><name>Lourenzo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06428861594082069378</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17491547.post-113044664426454558</id><published>2005-10-28T05:56:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-10-27T21:57:24.276+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Disperso</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2296/1687/1600/Joo%20Pedro%20Sousa1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2296/1687/320/Joo%20Pedro%20Sousa1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Fotografia, João Pedro Sousa&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não sei quem amo,&lt;br /&gt;Não sei quem sou,&lt;br /&gt;Sou um eu disperso&lt;br /&gt;Que alguém já amou.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17491547-113044664426454558?l=estadodearte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://estadodearte.blogspot.com/feeds/113044664426454558/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17491547&amp;postID=113044664426454558' title='7 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17491547/posts/default/113044664426454558'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17491547/posts/default/113044664426454558'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://estadodearte.blogspot.com/2005/10/disperso.html' title='Disperso'/><author><name>Lourenzo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06428861594082069378</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17491547.post-113036423231110983</id><published>2005-10-26T22:45:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-10-26T23:03:52.323+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Foges....</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2296/1687/1600/Marcio%20Farias1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2296/1687/320/Marcio%20Farias1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;                                    &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Fotografia, Marcio Farias&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sei muito bem que as pessoas saem dos retratos, sei isso desde pequeno, mas tu não, estás proibido de voltar a fazer o que fizeste esta noite, não posso entrar na sala e ver outra vez a tua moldura vazia."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Excerto de "Cão Como Nós"&lt;cão&gt; de Manuel Alegre&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17491547-113036423231110983?l=estadodearte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://estadodearte.blogspot.com/feeds/113036423231110983/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17491547&amp;postID=113036423231110983' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17491547/posts/default/113036423231110983'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17491547/posts/default/113036423231110983'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://estadodearte.blogspot.com/2005/10/foges.html' title='Foges....'/><author><name>Lourenzo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06428861594082069378</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17491547.post-112915591832630377</id><published>2005-10-12T23:20:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-10-12T23:25:18.330+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Winter</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" height="223" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2296/1687/320/Fernando%20Gabriel.jpg" width="341" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Fotografia, Fernando Gabriel&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Don't let the winter enter in your heart!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17491547-112915591832630377?l=estadodearte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://estadodearte.blogspot.com/feeds/112915591832630377/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17491547&amp;postID=112915591832630377' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17491547/posts/default/112915591832630377'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17491547/posts/default/112915591832630377'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://estadodearte.blogspot.com/2005/10/winter.html' title='Winter'/><author><name>Lourenzo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06428861594082069378</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17491547.post-112906979794186323</id><published>2005-10-12T07:27:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-10-11T23:29:57.946+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Um carro de bois...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2296/1687/1600/F.%20Monteiro.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 418px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 302px" height="276" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2296/1687/320/F.%20Monteiro.jpg" width="368" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Fotografia, F. Monteiro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quem me dera que a minha vida fosse um carro de bois&lt;br /&gt;Que vem a chiar, manhãzinha cedo, pela estrada,&lt;br /&gt;E que para de onde veio volta depois&lt;br /&gt;Quase à noitinha pela mesma estrada.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu não tinha que ter esperanças - tinha só que ter rodas...&lt;br /&gt;A minha velhice não tinha rugas nem cabelo branco...&lt;br /&gt;Quando eu já não servia, tiravam-me as rodas&lt;br /&gt;E eu ficava virado e partido no fundo de um barranco.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;poema de Alberto Caeiro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17491547-112906979794186323?l=estadodearte.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://estadodearte.blogspot.com/feeds/112906979794186323/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17491547&amp;postID=112906979794186323' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17491547/posts/default/112906979794186323'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17491547/posts/default/112906979794186323'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://estadodearte.blogspot.com/2005/10/um-carro-de-bois.html' title='Um carro de bois...'/><author><name>Lourenzo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06428861594082069378</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
