Beauty has no other origin than the singular wound, different in every case, hidden or visible, which each man bears within himself (Jean Genet)
Gosto muito, muito de pintura. Já postei um texto sobre o Klimt e estou a pensar postar mais alguns sobre outros artistas. Hoje trago-vos um link (http://www.sandymallet.com) e dois quadros dum self taught painter, totalmente desconhecido do grande (e do pequeno!) público, que, por qualquer razão misteriosa, adoro. Acho-os duma suavidade e dum lirismo extraordinários. A meu ver, são quase femininos. E, no entanto, foram feitos por um homem. Sandy Mallet de seu nome. Meu ex-boss. Hoje em dia dedica-se à pintura a tempo inteiro (que eu saiba, confesso que já lhe perdi o rasto).
E porque é quinta-feira, a música. Uma música transparente que apetece ouvir ao volante dum carro a caminho do Algarve. Agosto, janela aberta, o dourado dum fim de tarde de Verão, uma mala com o indispensável, a guitarra inconfundível de Carlos Santana e a voz angelical de Sarah Mclachlan. O que se pode querer mais da vida?
Spend all your time waiting
For that second chance
For a break that would make it okay
There’s always one reason
To feel not good enough
And it’s hard at the end of the day
I need some distraction
Oh beautiful release
Memory seeps from my veins
Let me be empty
And weightless and maybe
I’ll find some peace tonight
In the arms of an angel
Fly away from here
From this dark cold hotel room
And the endlessness that you fear
You are pulled from the wreckage
Of your silent reverie
You’re in the arms of the angel
May you find some comfort there
So tired of the straight line
And everywhere you turn
There’s vultures and thieves at your back
And the storm keeps on twisting
You keep on building the lie
That you make up for all that you lack
It don’t make no difference
Escaping one last time
It’s easier to believe in this sweet madness oh
This glorious sadness that brings me to my knees
In the arms of an angel
Fly away from here
From this dark cold hotel room
And the endlessness that you fear
You are pulled from the wreckage
Of your silent reverie
You’re in the arms of the angel
May you find some comfort there
You’re in the arms of the angel
May you find some comfort here
pcp
