<?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-3233741416518386244</id><updated>2012-01-04T20:49:20.938-08:00</updated><title type='text'>GARGANTA DO SILÊNCIO</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Zaratustra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07793740456607510269</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>70</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3233741416518386244.post-2559481454118680723</id><published>2011-09-30T08:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-30T08:19:38.890-07:00</updated><title type='text'>POETAS CONTEMPORÂNEOS DO SÉCULO XXI: ALEXANDRE NAVE</title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WiOEmcMwexs/ToXden5qb-I/AAAAAAAAAxc/zBAE6CdgeuU/s1600/Alexandre+Nave.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" kca="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WiOEmcMwexs/ToXden5qb-I/AAAAAAAAAxc/zBAE6CdgeuU/s1600/Alexandre+Nave.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;O CHEIRO DOS CARNICEIROS A TATUAR PALAVRAS&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Os pés nos campos de algodão&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;calcinados de sangue, abertos&lt;br /&gt;descidos os buracos do corpo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;caminhamos os campos desprovidos&lt;br /&gt;abrimos poços nos ouvidos.&lt;br /&gt;um a um num cordão a enfiar,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nascemos uns&amp;nbsp;nos outros&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;não sabemos quem nos vem queimar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alexandre Nave&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Columbários &amp;amp; Sangradouros&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quasi&lt;br /&gt;2003&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;ALEXANDRE NAVE&lt;/strong&gt;, nasceu em Lisboa no ano de 1969. Estudou Artes Plásticas, área na qual frequentou cursos de pintura e desenho, escultura, video, teatro e banda desenhada. Em 2004 foi distinguido com o Prémio Primeira Obra, atribuído pelo P.E.N Clube Português ao livro &lt;em&gt;Columbários&amp;nbsp;&amp;amp; Sangradouros &lt;/em&gt;pela Quasi, havia ganho o 1º Prémio Internacional de Poesia "León Felipe".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3233741416518386244-2559481454118680723?l=gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/feeds/2559481454118680723/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3233741416518386244&amp;postID=2559481454118680723' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/2559481454118680723'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/2559481454118680723'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/2011/09/poetas-contemporaneos-do-seculo-xxi.html' title='POETAS CONTEMPORÂNEOS DO SÉCULO XXI: ALEXANDRE NAVE'/><author><name>Zaratustra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07793740456607510269</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/-WiOEmcMwexs/ToXden5qb-I/AAAAAAAAAxc/zBAE6CdgeuU/s72-c/Alexandre+Nave.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3233741416518386244.post-260805549157274879</id><published>2011-09-23T17:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-23T17:04:25.167-07:00</updated><title type='text'>FILOSOFIA PURA (RALPH WALDO EMERSON)</title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pv5-dYsVQ3s/Tn0bf8F_peI/AAAAAAAAAxY/T_Emf3Znf_w/s1600/uewb_04_img0262%255B1%255D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" hca="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pv5-dYsVQ3s/Tn0bf8F_peI/AAAAAAAAAxY/T_Emf3Znf_w/s1600/uewb_04_img0262%255B1%255D.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"O que fica atrás de nós e o que jaz à nossa frente têm muito pouca importância, comparado com o que há dentro de nós".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ralph Waldo Emerson&lt;br /&gt;Escritor, Poeta, Filósofo e Ensaísta&lt;br /&gt;1803-1831&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3233741416518386244-260805549157274879?l=gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/feeds/260805549157274879/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3233741416518386244&amp;postID=260805549157274879' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/260805549157274879'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/260805549157274879'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/2011/09/filosofia-pura-ralph-waldo-emerson.html' title='FILOSOFIA PURA (RALPH WALDO EMERSON)'/><author><name>Zaratustra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07793740456607510269</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://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pv5-dYsVQ3s/Tn0bf8F_peI/AAAAAAAAAxY/T_Emf3Znf_w/s72-c/uewb_04_img0262%255B1%255D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3233741416518386244.post-1012396279378573315</id><published>2011-03-27T15:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-27T15:49:19.482-07:00</updated><title type='text'>RECEITA PARA SE FAZER UM HERÓI (Edgar Scandura)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Pega-se num homem&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Feito de nada como nós &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;em tamanho natural&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Embebe-se-lhe a carne&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;de maneira irracional&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;com fome e ódio&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Depois, perto do fim&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;levanta-se o pendão &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;e toca-se o clarim...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Serve-se morto.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Edgar Scandura &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3233741416518386244-1012396279378573315?l=gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/feeds/1012396279378573315/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3233741416518386244&amp;postID=1012396279378573315' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/1012396279378573315'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/1012396279378573315'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/2011/03/receita-para-se-fazer-um-heroi-edgar.html' title='RECEITA PARA SE FAZER UM HERÓI (Edgar Scandura)'/><author><name>Zaratustra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07793740456607510269</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-3233741416518386244.post-862156756854818472</id><published>2011-03-27T15:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-27T15:40:24.425-07:00</updated><title type='text'>ARTE EM MOVIMENTO (ALEX GREY)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HDvYHwRbdGQ/TY-8yfxCruI/AAAAAAAAAw4/QLLUTqDp0Kw/s1600/AlexGreypainting-550%255B1%255D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 388px; HEIGHT: 388px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5588893238296751842" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HDvYHwRbdGQ/TY-8yfxCruI/AAAAAAAAAw4/QLLUTqDp0Kw/s400/AlexGreypainting-550%255B1%255D.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3233741416518386244-862156756854818472?l=gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/feeds/862156756854818472/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3233741416518386244&amp;postID=862156756854818472' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/862156756854818472'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/862156756854818472'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/2011/03/arte-em-movimento-alex-grey.html' title='ARTE EM MOVIMENTO (ALEX GREY)'/><author><name>Zaratustra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07793740456607510269</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://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HDvYHwRbdGQ/TY-8yfxCruI/AAAAAAAAAw4/QLLUTqDp0Kw/s72-c/AlexGreypainting-550%255B1%255D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3233741416518386244.post-2533807841100906472</id><published>2011-02-19T06:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-19T06:20:24.790-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JJscPZbrR50/TV_Rf8lU2BI/AAAAAAAAAwo/QEqyuloCHvk/s1600/GetAttachment6%255B1%255D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 267px; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5575405210476795922" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JJscPZbrR50/TV_Rf8lU2BI/AAAAAAAAAwo/QEqyuloCHvk/s400/GetAttachment6%255B1%255D.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Quando a beleza se funde &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;com o espírito&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;há explosões&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;que vêm de dentro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;quando a beleza se funde&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;com o espírito&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;há mundos que se abrem&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;loucura&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;criação&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;quando a beleza se funde&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;com o espírito&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;há aves livres&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;banquetes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;celebração&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;quando a beleza se funde&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;com o espírito&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;és tu à mesa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;és tu ao balcão&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;quando a beleza se funde&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;com o espírito&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;já não há mais mercado&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;nem prisão&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A.Pedro Ribeiro&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3233741416518386244-2533807841100906472?l=gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/feeds/2533807841100906472/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3233741416518386244&amp;postID=2533807841100906472' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/2533807841100906472'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/2533807841100906472'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/2011/02/quando-beleza-se-funde-com-o-espirito.html' title=''/><author><name>Zaratustra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07793740456607510269</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://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JJscPZbrR50/TV_Rf8lU2BI/AAAAAAAAAwo/QEqyuloCHvk/s72-c/GetAttachment6%255B1%255D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3233741416518386244.post-9099690248583114382</id><published>2011-02-12T15:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-12T15:50:25.266-08:00</updated><title type='text'>CORRENTES D'ESCRITA 2011 NA PÓVOA DO VARZIM</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XTIgYUWoTH4/TVcWcP_KHfI/AAAAAAAAAwg/co7WxTHt9l0/s1600/correntes-de-escritas%255B1%255D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 400px; HEIGHT: 100px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5572947738477862386" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XTIgYUWoTH4/TVcWcP_KHfI/AAAAAAAAAwg/co7WxTHt9l0/s400/correntes-de-escritas%255B1%255D.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Será entre os dias 22 a 26 de Fevereiro que realizar-se-á mais um Correntes d'Escrita no auditório Municipal da Póvoa do Varzim. Depois de muitos anos de falta (quatro) o autor deste blogue vai (fazer os possíveis) para (desta vez) estar presente.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;breve história:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Inicialmente concebida como forma de homenagear o centenário da morte de Eça de Queirós em Fevereiro de 2000, o Correntes d'Escrita transformou-se desde cedo no maior encontro internacional ibero-americano de escritores e poetas que há memória em Portugal, fruto da visão da Câmara Municipal da Póvoa do Varzim que apostou na sua continuidade, mantendo como tema fundamental, o &lt;strong&gt;mar&lt;/strong&gt;, que se vê nestas duas línguas: o Português e o Espanhol. Não só a língua que une os participantes mas também o mar donde saíram as caravelas e naus desse espaço mítico e universal que se transformou numa grande estrada cultural em direcção a um maior intercâmbio entre culturas tão semelhantes como ancestrais e, ao mesmo tempo, universais.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Para mais informações sobre o programa, consultem a seguinte hiperligação:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.cm-pvarzim.pt/groups/staff/conteudo/noticias/correntes-d2019escritas-programa-apresentado-hoje"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;http://www.cm-pvarzim.pt/groups/staff/conteudo/noticias/correntes-d2019escritas-programa-apresentado-hoje&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Aparecam!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3233741416518386244-9099690248583114382?l=gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/feeds/9099690248583114382/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3233741416518386244&amp;postID=9099690248583114382' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/9099690248583114382'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/9099690248583114382'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/2011/02/correntes-descrita-2011-na-povoa-do.html' title='CORRENTES D&apos;ESCRITA 2011 NA PÓVOA DO VARZIM'/><author><name>Zaratustra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07793740456607510269</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/-XTIgYUWoTH4/TVcWcP_KHfI/AAAAAAAAAwg/co7WxTHt9l0/s72-c/correntes-de-escritas%255B1%255D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3233741416518386244.post-43331128502511499</id><published>2010-11-30T07:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-30T07:41:30.232-08:00</updated><title type='text'>FERNANDO PESSOA (1888-1935)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/TPUVasJQ-gI/AAAAAAAAAwQ/WSDZz58egSA/s1600/fernando%2Bpessoa%255B1%255D.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 351px; HEIGHT: 387px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545362064447437314" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/TPUVasJQ-gI/AAAAAAAAAwQ/WSDZz58egSA/s400/fernando%2Bpessoa%255B1%255D.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Hoje, fazem precisamente setenta e cinco anos que o maior poeta da língua portuguesa partiu (mas não morreu...) do nosso mundo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Juntamente com milhares de fãs e simpatizantes da sua obra e pensamento, a "Garganta..." presta-lhe uma homenagem singela através de alguns dos seus poemas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Para sempre, Fernando Pessoa...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;"Para ser grande, sê inteiro: nada&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;        Teu exagera ou exclui.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;  Sê todo em cada coisa. Põe quanto és&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;        No mínimo que fazes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;  Assim em cada lago a lua toda&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;        Brilha, porque alta vive."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                            &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Ricardo Reis&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt;"Creio no Mundo como um malmequer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt;  Porque não o vejo. Mas penso nele&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt;  Porque pensar é não compreender...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt;  O mundo não se fez para pensarmos nele&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt;  (Pensar é estar doente dos olhos)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt;  Mas para olharnmos para ele e estarmos de acordo...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt;  Eu não tenho filosofia, tenho sentido...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt;  Se falo na Natureza não é porque saiba o que ela é.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt;  Mas porque o amo, e amo-a por isso,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt;  Porque quem ama nunca sabe o que ama&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt;  Nem sabe porque ama, nem sabe o que é amar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt;  Amar é a eterna inocência,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt;  E a única inocência é não pensar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;                                &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt; Alberto Caeiro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;"(...) A minha cruz está dentro de mim, hirta,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;  a escaldar, a quebrar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;  E tudo dói na minha alma extensa &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;  Como um universo."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                                  &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt; Álvaro de Campos &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;"Tenho vontade de erguer os braços e gritar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;  coisas de uma selvajaria ignorada, de dizer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;  palavras aos mistérios altos, de afirmar uma &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;  nova personalidade larga aos grandes espaços&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;  da matéria vazia"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                                 &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;  Bernardo Soares&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;"Deus quer, o homem sonha, a obra nasce.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;  Deus quis que a terra fosse toda uma,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;  que o mar unisse, já não separasse.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;  sagrou-te, foste desvendando a espuma,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;  E a orla branca foi de ilha em continente,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;  clareou, correndo até ao fim do mundo,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;  e viu-se a terra inteira, de repente,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;  surgir, redonda, do azul profundo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;  Quem te sagrou criou-te português.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;  do mar e nós em ti nos deu sinal.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;  Cumpriu-se o Mar, e o Império se desfez.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;  Senhor, falta cumprir-se Portugal!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                                &lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;Fernando Pessoa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3233741416518386244-43331128502511499?l=gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/feeds/43331128502511499/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3233741416518386244&amp;postID=43331128502511499' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/43331128502511499'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/43331128502511499'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/2010/11/fernando-pessoa-1888-1935.html' title='FERNANDO PESSOA (1888-1935)'/><author><name>Zaratustra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07793740456607510269</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/_ax5j0jpLtHg/TPUVasJQ-gI/AAAAAAAAAwQ/WSDZz58egSA/s72-c/fernando%2Bpessoa%255B1%255D.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3233741416518386244.post-2038084335004584919</id><published>2010-06-19T09:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-19T10:11:31.638-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/TBz0hrcCgiI/AAAAAAAAAwA/4ChXvSDpO3Q/s1600/saramago.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 400px; HEIGHT: 388px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484527305663611426" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/TBz0hrcCgiI/AAAAAAAAAwA/4ChXvSDpO3Q/s400/saramago.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;POEMA À BOCA FECHADA&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Não direi:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;que o silêncio me sufoca e me amordaça&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;calado estou, calado ficarei,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;pois que a língua que falo é de outra raça.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Palavras consumidas se acumulam&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;se represam, cisterna de águas mortas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Ácidas mágoas em limos transformadas,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Vaza de fundo em que há raízes tortas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Não direi:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Que nem sequer o esforço de as dizer merecem,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Palavras que não digam quanto sei&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Neste retiro em que me conhecem.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Nem só lodos se arrastam, nem só lamas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Nem só animais boiam, mortos, medos, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Túrgidos frutos em cachos se entrelaçam&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;no negro poço de onde sobem dedos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Só direi,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Crispadamente recolhido e mudo,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Que quem se cala quando me calei&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Não poderá morrer sem dizer tudo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;José Saramago&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;(1922-2010)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;R.I.P&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;OPINIÃO DE TIAGO MOITA:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;Ontem não morreu só um escritor, apenas se apagou uma estrela lírica que iluminou o coração de milhares e milhares de escritores não só em Portugal mas em todo o mundo. Não só a sua vastíssima obra e os prémios que ganhou ao longo da sua carreira o tornaram num escritor universal mas, principalmente a forma como libertou a palavra e emancipou a linguagem do romance, o percurso de um homem do povo que trabalhou a vida a pulso, trabalhou inúmeras profissões e combateu injustiças durante toda a sua vida, Fizeram de Saramago não só um dos maiores escritores portugueses de todos os tempos, como um exemplo de ser humano capaz de ultrapassar as fronteiras do seu corpo e alma pela arte.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;Para ti Saramago, nunca te direi adeus...apenas...até breve.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3233741416518386244-2038084335004584919?l=gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/feeds/2038084335004584919/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3233741416518386244&amp;postID=2038084335004584919' title='6 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/2038084335004584919'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/2038084335004584919'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/2010/06/poema-boca-fechada-nao-direi-que-o.html' title=''/><author><name>Zaratustra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07793740456607510269</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://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/TBz0hrcCgiI/AAAAAAAAAwA/4ChXvSDpO3Q/s72-c/saramago.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3233741416518386244.post-7524566927767272060</id><published>2010-04-01T06:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-06T02:15:26.407-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Filo-Café DRAMA E PLATEIA em S.João da Madeira</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/S7r7nVcXwnI/AAAAAAAAAv4/hU47yjzAleg/s1600/cartaz+filo+II.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 267px; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456950551702389362" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/S7r7nVcXwnI/AAAAAAAAAv4/hU47yjzAleg/s400/cartaz+filo+II.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Depois de dois anos de ausência, o Filo-Café regressa à cidade de S.João da Madeira. Desta vez, com um tema sobre o teatro, uma vez que este evento se encontra inserido no IV Festival de Teatro de São João da Madeira.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DRAMA E PLATEIA: A VIDA COMO ESPECTÁCULO.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quando Shakespeare colocou na boca de Hamlet a famosa frase "O mundo é um palco", para além de querer afirmar o sentido da sua vingança, o bardo postulou uma questão interpretativa moderna em relação entre a Arte, a Vida e as suas representações.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Se, nunca como agora, o Mundo está transformado num palco Tragicómico, onde está a plateia? Estaremos nós de que lado da cortina? Sonhamos ser como Aristófanes - crítico de situação social, não muito diferente da nossa actual? E Antígona, hoje seria uma heroína ou uma maníaco-depressiva?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No fundo: Quem tomará conta da História?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Teixeira Moita.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O QUE É UM FILO-CAFÉ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um Filo-Café é, no essencial, um espaço público de trocas. Real. Com pessoas vivas, para lá do virtual . A partir de um tema, há uma pequena comunicação (não superior a dez minutos) que serve para estimular a emissão do pensamento aberta a todos os presentes .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No meio das trocas de pensamento surgem emissões artísticas: Pequenas performances, música, poesia, , etc. Isto é: a conversa é espontânea, a emissão artística é "preparada" antecipadamente. No espaço onde se realiza o Filo-Café há também lugar para a exposição de fotografia, pintura, escultura, instalação. É efémero. A participação na conversa é absolutamente livre. As inscrições livres, destinam-se às pessoas que querem apresentar apresentar algum trabalho artístico.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ABERTAS AS INSCRIÇÕES GRATUITAS NAS SEGUINTES ÁREAS:Poesia, Performance, Teatro, Fotografia, Pintura, Dança, Multimédia, Artesanato, Música, Escultura, Pensamento, Literatura, etc,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PARA INDICAR O NOME E ÁREA DE ACTUAÇÃO, FAVOR LIGAR PARA O SEGUINTE NÚMERO: 966 410 970&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;COORDENADOR: Teixeira Moita&lt;br /&gt;Convidados confirmados(sujeito a actualizações):&lt;br /&gt;Teixeira Moita Porto - Pensamento, música Elisabete Monteiro Vila Nova de Gaia -Pintura; Alexandre Teixeira Mendes Porto - Pensamento; Jorge Velhote + Sara Canelhas Porto, Poesia; Susana Correia Oliveira de Azeméis, fotografia; Nelson Silva Porto, Fotografia; Júlia Esmeralda Porto, Poesia Carlos Araújo Alves Portugal, Pensamento; Floriano Martins Portugal, Poesia; Mariola Kleine Kartoffel Soutelo Portugal, Pensamento; Inês Ramos Lisboa, Poesia; Virgílio Liquito Portugal, Poesia; Pedro Laranjeira Portugal, Poesia+Pensamento; Tiago Moita S.João da Madeira, Poesia+Pensamento&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O Filo-Café terá lugar no ART7&lt; a 14 DE ABRIL DE 2010, Quarta-Feira, às 21H30&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A entrada é livre.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3233741416518386244-7524566927767272060?l=gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/feeds/7524566927767272060/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3233741416518386244&amp;postID=7524566927767272060' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/7524566927767272060'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/7524566927767272060'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/2010/04/filo-cafe-drama-e-plateia-em-sjoao-da.html' title='Filo-Café DRAMA E PLATEIA em S.João da Madeira'/><author><name>Zaratustra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07793740456607510269</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://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/S7r7nVcXwnI/AAAAAAAAAv4/hU47yjzAleg/s72-c/cartaz+filo+II.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3233741416518386244.post-6916106566924982687</id><published>2010-03-12T09:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-12T09:36:39.369-08:00</updated><title type='text'>POESIA À MESA 2010 EM S.JOÃO DA MADEIRA</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/S5p0Kggp-mI/AAAAAAAAAvo/169tgjNJwGQ/s1600-h/Poesia+%C3%A0+mesa+2010.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 400px; HEIGHT: 172px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5447794423132453474" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/S5p0Kggp-mI/AAAAAAAAAvo/169tgjNJwGQ/s400/Poesia+%C3%A0+mesa+2010.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Pela sétima vez consecutiva, S.João da Madeira acolhe mais uma campanha cultural destinada à promoção da poesia no Conselho. Trata-se da campanha POESIA À MESA - um evento promovido pela Câmara Municipal de S.João da Madeira desde 2003 e que homenageia este ano os poetas Ruy Belo, Luísa Ducla Soares, António Gedeão, Teresa Rita Lopes, Arménio Vieira e Inês Lourenço.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Segue-se o programa desta iniciativa:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;De 1 a 31&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"De passagem...pelos poetas sanjoanenses"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;  Exposição bibliográfica onde serão apresentados livros de poesia publicados por escritores    sanjoanenses BIBLIOTECA MUNICIPAL&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Dia 5&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;21:30: Lançamento do livro "MANIFESTO CONTRA A RACIONALIDADE" de João Gomes de Almeida&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Apresentado por João Villalobos.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Dia 8 &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;14:30: "Quem escreveu o meu livro?" com António Mota e a poesia&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;De 12 a 31&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Exposição "O MAIOR POEMA DA CIDADE" &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Associação Cultural Teia dos Sentidos.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Dia 13&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Espectáculo "UMA MESA DE POESIA"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Amigos do Art7Menor Bar&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;De 15 a 21&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Feira do Livro de S.João da Madeira&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;De 15 a 21&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"A Árvore da Poesia"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Realizado no âmbito do Projecto Educativo Municipal&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Biblioteca Municipal&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Dia 16 &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;21:00: Apresentação do Livro "OS DOIS COMPADRES" de Honório Baptista Resende&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Com um momento musical de violino&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Feira do Livro - Praça Luís Ribeiro&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Dia 17 &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tertúlia poética "SER POETA É..."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Com a participação de poetas sanjoanenses&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Biblioteca Municipal&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Dia 18&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;21:30: À CONVERSA COM...LUÍS FILIPE BORGES&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Feira do Livro - Praça Luís Ribeiro&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Dia 18 a 19&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Workshop "História de Chapéus"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Bibliotecas escolares das Eb1 de S. João da Madeira&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Dia 19&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;21:30: PEREGRINAÇÃO POÉTICA&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Início: Biblioteca Municipal &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;23:00: POETRY SLAM&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Dia 20&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Todo o dia Acção de Formação POESIA E EDUCAÇÃO GLOBAL&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Por José António Franco&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Biblioteca Municipal&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;21:30: SERÃO DE POESIA&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Com a participação da ex-primeira dama Maria Barroso, da pianista Olga Prats e do actor Pedro Lamares.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Paços da Cultura&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Dia 21&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;17:00: Apresentação do livro "MOMENTOS" da autoria dos alunos das Escolas Secundárias do Concelho&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Organização: Associação Ecos Urbanos&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Paços da Cultura&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;De 21 a 31&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Exposição "MOMENTOS"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Exposição de fotografias e Poemas retirados do livro com o mesmo título.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Inaugurado no dia 21 às 18:00.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Biblioteca Municipal.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;O escritor Tiago Moita fará parte do espectáculo UMA MESA COM POESIA, da Tertúlia Poética "SER POETA É..." - em conjunto com a Professora Cristina Marques e na Peregrinação Poética onde declamará alguns poemas dos autores homenageados e da sua autoria.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Compareçam!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3233741416518386244-6916106566924982687?l=gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/feeds/6916106566924982687/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3233741416518386244&amp;postID=6916106566924982687' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/6916106566924982687'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/6916106566924982687'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/2010/03/poesia-mesa-2010-em-sjoao-da-madeira.html' title='POESIA À MESA 2010 EM S.JOÃO DA MADEIRA'/><author><name>Zaratustra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07793740456607510269</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/_ax5j0jpLtHg/S5p0Kggp-mI/AAAAAAAAAvo/169tgjNJwGQ/s72-c/Poesia+%C3%A0+mesa+2010.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3233741416518386244.post-8078044217964030260</id><published>2010-03-01T09:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-01T09:13:12.886-08:00</updated><title type='text'>MANIFESTO POÉTICO- A.P.RIBEIRO CANDIDATA-SE À PRESIDÊNCIA DA REPÚBLICA EM S.JOÃO DA MADEIRA (04.03.2010)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/S4v1Vnj0UQI/AAAAAAAAAvg/h9y_NnEcDWc/s1600-h/MANIFESTO+PO%C3%89TICO.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 282px; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443714326352646402" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/S4v1Vnj0UQI/AAAAAAAAAvg/h9y_NnEcDWc/s400/MANIFESTO+PO%C3%89TICO.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3233741416518386244-8078044217964030260?l=gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/feeds/8078044217964030260/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3233741416518386244&amp;postID=8078044217964030260' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/8078044217964030260'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/8078044217964030260'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/2010/03/manifesto-poetico-apribeiro-candidata.html' title='MANIFESTO POÉTICO- A.P.RIBEIRO CANDIDATA-SE À PRESIDÊNCIA DA REPÚBLICA EM S.JOÃO DA MADEIRA (04.03.2010)'/><author><name>Zaratustra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07793740456607510269</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/_ax5j0jpLtHg/S4v1Vnj0UQI/AAAAAAAAAvg/h9y_NnEcDWc/s72-c/MANIFESTO+PO%C3%89TICO.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3233741416518386244.post-2143762322980693624</id><published>2010-03-01T09:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-01T09:09:31.384-08:00</updated><title type='text'>CAFÉ FILOSÓFICO EM S.JOÃO DA MADEIRA (03.03.2010)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/S4v0oSW14qI/AAAAAAAAAvY/hl6R9iFUHRU/s1600-h/CAF%C3%89+FILOS%C3%93FICO.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 281px; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443713547566965410" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/S4v0oSW14qI/AAAAAAAAAvY/hl6R9iFUHRU/s400/CAF%C3%89+FILOS%C3%93FICO.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3233741416518386244-2143762322980693624?l=gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/feeds/2143762322980693624/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3233741416518386244&amp;postID=2143762322980693624' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/2143762322980693624'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/2143762322980693624'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/2010/03/cafe-filosofico-em-sjoao-da-madeira.html' title='CAFÉ FILOSÓFICO EM S.JOÃO DA MADEIRA (03.03.2010)'/><author><name>Zaratustra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07793740456607510269</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/_ax5j0jpLtHg/S4v0oSW14qI/AAAAAAAAAvY/hl6R9iFUHRU/s72-c/CAF%C3%89+FILOS%C3%93FICO.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3233741416518386244.post-7824855311463208526</id><published>2009-12-01T08:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-01T08:56:32.556-08:00</updated><title type='text'>PADRE MÁRIO DE OLIVEIRA EM S.JOÃO DA MADEIRA (03.12.2009, Quinta-feira,21H30)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SxVHig-O0DI/AAAAAAAAAvE/fmKT-hw3_U8/s1600/cartaz+3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 283px; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410309185647595570" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SxVHig-O0DI/AAAAAAAAAvE/fmKT-hw3_U8/s400/cartaz+3.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;Na próxima quinta-feira, dia 3 de Dezembro, S. João da Madeira acolherá uma das figuras mais polémicas de Portugal. Trata-se do célebre Padre Mário de Oliveira. Autor de mais de trinta obras, entre as quais o célebre livro “Fátima Nunca Mais” (Campo das letras, 1999), polémico por criticar o culto de Nossa Senhora de Fátima e o negócio que se gerou à volta dele. A sua deslocação à cidade, prende-se com a apresentação da sua última obra “Novo Livro do Apocalipse ou da Revelação”.&lt;br /&gt;A apresentação e a venda da obra terão lugar no Art7Menor Bar, a partir das 21H30 e contará no final com uma pequena sessão de autógrafos. Os lucros da venda da obra reverterão para a continuação das obras na Casa da Cultura de Macieira de Lixa. O livro em questão custa dezanove Euros.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A OBRA&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;Segundo o autor, a sua última obra deveria ser publicada a título póstumo, de modo a evitar alimentar mais “ódio teológico-idiolátrico” por ser “aquele que mais exclui, excomunga e mata” no seu entender, uma vez que o seu último livro vem por a descoberto as máfias que se escondem por detrás de todas as cúpulas das religiões/Igrejas, juntamente com as cúpulas do poder político e do poder económico-financeiro. Um livro polémico que, segundo o seu criador, “nem José Saramago, António Lobo Antunes ou José Rodrigues dos Santos teriam a coragem de escrever”, contra uma sociedade materialista e consumista que se desligou da sua essência divina, carregada com uma mensagem de esperança e de amor, baseada na fé cristã e na palavra de Jesus Cristo, livre de todos os artifícios e mistificações.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SxVIXe7Lk-I/AAAAAAAAAvM/146bdyYi4og/s1600/PADRE_~1.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 266px; HEIGHT: 355px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410310095630996450" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SxVIXe7Lk-I/AAAAAAAAAvM/146bdyYi4og/s400/PADRE_~1.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;O AUTOR&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;Mário de Oliveira nasceu a 8 de Março de 1937, em Lourosa, Feira. Foi ordenado Padre/Presbítero da Igreja do Porto, a 5 de Agosto de 1962. Desde Março de 1973, foi coadjutor da Paróquia das Antas por decisão pessoal do Bispo António Ferreira Gomes. Foi Professor de Religião e Moral nos Liceus Alexandre Herculano e D. Manuel II no Porto e Capelão Militar na Guiné Portuguesa (Hoje, Guiné-Bissau), onde foi expulso ao fim de quatro meses por pregar o evangelho da paz aos soldados. Foi Pároco em Paredes e Valadares onde levou a sério a sua missão de evangelizar os pobres, o que lhe valeu a exoneração, ao fim de catorze meses, decidida pelo então Administrador Apostólico da Diocese, o Bispo Florentino de Andrade e Silva. Pároco de Macieira da Lixa, concelho de Felgueiras, em cujo exercício foi preso duas vezes pela PIDE. Depois da Revolução do 25 de Abril de 1974, dedica uma intensa actividade ao jornalismo e à escrita, acabando por participar em jornais locais como O Correio do Minho, acabando por fundar o jornal “Fraternizar” de que é director e redactor principal, há vinte e dois anos consecutivos, e escrever mais de trinta obras, todos fecundamente polémicos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Nota:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; O bar Art7menor situa-se na Avenida Renato Araújo, por baixo do centro comercial Galerias Avenida, em frente ao Centro Coordenador&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;de Transportes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3233741416518386244-7824855311463208526?l=gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/feeds/7824855311463208526/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3233741416518386244&amp;postID=7824855311463208526' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/7824855311463208526'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/7824855311463208526'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/2009/12/padre-mario-de-oliveira-em-sjoao-da.html' title='PADRE MÁRIO DE OLIVEIRA EM S.JOÃO DA MADEIRA (03.12.2009, Quinta-feira,21H30)'/><author><name>Zaratustra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07793740456607510269</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/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SxVHig-O0DI/AAAAAAAAAvE/fmKT-hw3_U8/s72-c/cartaz+3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3233741416518386244.post-7767188440082933876</id><published>2009-11-03T01:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-03T06:46:01.133-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Noite Poética PORTUGALIDADE no Art7Menor Bar em S. João da Madeira (05.11.2009)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SvBCDugvnrI/AAAAAAAAAu8/e49GgtND1_M/s1600-h/portugalidade.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 283px; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399888585009634994" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SvBCDugvnrI/AAAAAAAAAu8/e49GgtND1_M/s400/portugalidade.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3233741416518386244-7767188440082933876?l=gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/feeds/7767188440082933876/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3233741416518386244&amp;postID=7767188440082933876' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/7767188440082933876'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/7767188440082933876'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/2009/11/noite-poetica-portugalidade-no.html' title='Noite Poética PORTUGALIDADE no Art7Menor Bar em S. João da Madeira (05.11.2009)'/><author><name>Zaratustra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07793740456607510269</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/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SvBCDugvnrI/AAAAAAAAAu8/e49GgtND1_M/s72-c/portugalidade.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3233741416518386244.post-1758045046514902805</id><published>2009-10-28T06:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-28T06:32:34.449-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Grupo CULTURA VIVA no Art7Menor Bar (29.10.2009)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SuhH0bm7NlI/AAAAAAAAAu0/FeGHBswdIWk/s1600-h/Cultura+Viva+(29.10.09).jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 283px; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397643119493330514" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SuhH0bm7NlI/AAAAAAAAAu0/FeGHBswdIWk/s400/Cultura+Viva+(29.10.09).jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3233741416518386244-1758045046514902805?l=gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/feeds/1758045046514902805/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3233741416518386244&amp;postID=1758045046514902805' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/1758045046514902805'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/1758045046514902805'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/2009/10/grupo-cultura-viva-no-art7menor-bar.html' title='Grupo CULTURA VIVA no Art7Menor Bar (29.10.2009)'/><author><name>Zaratustra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07793740456607510269</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://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SuhH0bm7NlI/AAAAAAAAAu0/FeGHBswdIWk/s72-c/Cultura+Viva+(29.10.09).jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3233741416518386244.post-41810962991096482</id><published>2009-10-05T09:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-05T09:27:53.069-07:00</updated><title type='text'>CONFRONTO POÉTICO II EM S.JOÃO DA MADEIRA</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SsoeNuEyUII/AAAAAAAAAus/Pqv-jg71Blg/s1600-h/Confronto+Po%C3%A9tico+08.10.2009+SJM.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 283px; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389153125157458050" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SsoeNuEyUII/AAAAAAAAAus/Pqv-jg71Blg/s400/Confronto+Po%C3%A9tico+08.10.2009+SJM.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Para quem perdeu o Primeiro Confronto poético de Setembro, o Art7Menor Bar tem a honra de mais uma vez apresentar mais o mesmo espectáculo, agora em moldes diferentes e com os mesmos protagonistas da primeira série.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;O evento terá lugar no dia &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;8 de Outubro, Quinta-Feira, pelas 22Hoo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;, no bar em questão.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Após o Espectáculo, haverá sessão de declamação poética livre aberta a todos os que quiserem participar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;solta o Poeta/Declamador que há dentro de ti!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Atreve-te!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Conto convosco!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Entrada: 2 €&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3233741416518386244-41810962991096482?l=gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/feeds/41810962991096482/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3233741416518386244&amp;postID=41810962991096482' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/41810962991096482'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/41810962991096482'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/2009/10/confronto-poetico-ii-em-sjoao-da.html' title='CONFRONTO POÉTICO II EM S.JOÃO DA MADEIRA'/><author><name>Zaratustra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07793740456607510269</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://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SsoeNuEyUII/AAAAAAAAAus/Pqv-jg71Blg/s72-c/Confronto+Po%C3%A9tico+08.10.2009+SJM.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3233741416518386244.post-4373644776910737950</id><published>2009-10-05T09:02:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-05T09:18:08.614-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lembrar Al Berto (1948-1997)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SsocDaUOxOI/AAAAAAAAAuk/IysYNC5-jj0/s1600-h/Al+Berto.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 236px; HEIGHT: 263px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389150749031580898" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SsocDaUOxOI/AAAAAAAAAuk/IysYNC5-jj0/s400/Al+Berto.bmp" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;HORTO&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;homens cegos procuram a visão do amor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;onde os dias ergueram esta parede&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;intransponível&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;caminham vergados no zumbido dos ventos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;com os braços erguidos - cantam&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;a linha do horizonte é ma lâmina&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;corta os cabelos dos meteoros - corta&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;as faces dos homens que espreitam para o palco&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;nocturno das invisíveis cidades&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;escorre uma linfa prateada para o coração dos cegos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;e o sono atormenta-os com os seus sonhos vazios&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;adormecem sempre&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;antes que a cinza dos olhos arda&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;e se disperse&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;no fundo do muito longe ouve-se&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;um lamento escuro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;quando a alba se levanta de novo no horto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;dos incêndios&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;prosseguem caminho&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;com a voz atada por uma corda de lírios&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;os cegos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;são o corpo de um fogo lento - uma sarça&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;que se acende subitamente por dentro.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Al Berto, &lt;em&gt;Horto de Incêndio, 1997&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3233741416518386244-4373644776910737950?l=gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/feeds/4373644776910737950/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3233741416518386244&amp;postID=4373644776910737950' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/4373644776910737950'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/4373644776910737950'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/2009/10/lembrar-al-berto-1948-1997.html' title='Lembrar Al Berto (1948-1997)'/><author><name>Zaratustra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07793740456607510269</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/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SsocDaUOxOI/AAAAAAAAAuk/IysYNC5-jj0/s72-c/Al+Berto.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3233741416518386244.post-7768401207106386913</id><published>2009-08-26T09:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-26T09:53:18.438-07:00</updated><title type='text'>CONFRONTO POÉTICO EM S.JOÃO DA MADEIRA! (03/09/2009)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SpVoVulPOKI/AAAAAAAAAuc/aK3LsJjeJik/s1600-h/Cart_02.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 283px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374316452827314338" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SpVoVulPOKI/AAAAAAAAAuc/aK3LsJjeJik/s400/Cart_02.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3233741416518386244-7768401207106386913?l=gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/feeds/7768401207106386913/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3233741416518386244&amp;postID=7768401207106386913' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/7768401207106386913'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/7768401207106386913'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/2009/08/confronto-poetico-em-sjoao-da-madeira.html' title='CONFRONTO POÉTICO EM S.JOÃO DA MADEIRA! (03/09/2009)'/><author><name>Zaratustra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07793740456607510269</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://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SpVoVulPOKI/AAAAAAAAAuc/aK3LsJjeJik/s72-c/Cart_02.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3233741416518386244.post-4099350731660074166</id><published>2009-08-26T09:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-27T02:26:19.973-07:00</updated><title type='text'>TIAGO MOITA NO FACEBOOK</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Depois do Hi5! Tiago Moita aderiu ao Facebook.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Quem quiser visitar dirija-se a:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.facebook.com/people/Tiago-V-Moita/1643767144"&gt;http://www.facebook.com/people/Tiago-V-Moita/1643767144&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3233741416518386244-4099350731660074166?l=gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/feeds/4099350731660074166/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3233741416518386244&amp;postID=4099350731660074166' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/4099350731660074166'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/4099350731660074166'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/2009/08/tiagoi-moita-no-facebook.html' title='TIAGO MOITA NO FACEBOOK'/><author><name>Zaratustra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07793740456607510269</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-3233741416518386244.post-4943962188926923324</id><published>2009-07-21T01:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-21T02:03:13.932-07:00</updated><title type='text'>POESIA DE CHOQUE EM S.JOÃO DA MADEIRA! (23.07.2009)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SmWEQB3457I/AAAAAAAAAuU/olPq1zGr3_0/s1600-h/Poesia+Choque+23.07.09+SJM.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 304px; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360836342370068402" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SmWEQB3457I/AAAAAAAAAuU/olPq1zGr3_0/s400/Poesia+Choque+23.07.09+SJM.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3233741416518386244-4943962188926923324?l=gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/feeds/4943962188926923324/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3233741416518386244&amp;postID=4943962188926923324' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/4943962188926923324'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/4943962188926923324'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/2009/07/poesia-de-choque-em-sjoao-da-madeira.html' title='POESIA DE CHOQUE EM S.JOÃO DA MADEIRA! (23.07.2009)'/><author><name>Zaratustra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07793740456607510269</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/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SmWEQB3457I/AAAAAAAAAuU/olPq1zGr3_0/s72-c/Poesia+Choque+23.07.09+SJM.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3233741416518386244.post-1773083403012451956</id><published>2009-07-15T02:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-15T02:19:21.023-07:00</updated><title type='text'>TIAGO MOITA NO HI5</title><content type='html'>Tiago Moita aderiu à famosa rede hi5!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quem quiser visitar, dirija-se a:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://tiagovasconcelosmoita.hi5.com/"&gt;http://tiagovasconcelosmoita.hi5.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3233741416518386244-1773083403012451956?l=gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/feeds/1773083403012451956/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3233741416518386244&amp;postID=1773083403012451956' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/1773083403012451956'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/1773083403012451956'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/2009/07/tiago-moita-no-hi5.html' title='TIAGO MOITA NO HI5'/><author><name>Zaratustra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07793740456607510269</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-3233741416518386244.post-6218614521100618955</id><published>2009-07-15T01:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-15T02:20:26.853-07:00</updated><title type='text'>CURTA 2 - 2ª Mostra de Curtas Metragens de S. João da Madeira</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Sl2divXQ2ZI/AAAAAAAAAuE/jX6J3mRHcyQ/s1600-h/curtas.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 287px; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358612351795911058" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Sl2divXQ2ZI/AAAAAAAAAuE/jX6J3mRHcyQ/s400/curtas.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;A CURTA - Mostra internacional de Curtas-Metragens de S. João da Madeira está de volta, de 16 a 18 de Julho, sempre a partir das 21H30, no auditório dos Paços da Cultura de S. João da Madeira! a entrada é gratuita.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Depois do êxito de 2008, a associação cultural Teia dos Sentidos apresenta a segunda edição da CURTA, que este ano oferece workshops gratuitos relacionados com a sétima arte.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"AZEITONA" abre a mostra das curtas, no dia 16 (quinta-feira). É um projecto cinematográfico de 36 minutos, inspirado na vida e obra de Manuel de Oliveira, realizado por Ana Almeida, Humberto Rocha, João Gazua e Luís Campos, alunos do Mestrado em Cinema - Realização da Universidade da Beira Interior. O filme conta com o elenco de actores bem conhecido do público, como Orlando Costa, Teresa Madruga, Rui Santos ou Fernando Taborda.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;No dia 18, haverá workshops gratuitos para todas as idades: desde oficinas de Pinhole e Cianotipia a um seminário de iniciação ao guionismo com a projecção do filme "Adaptation" do realizador Daniel Algrant.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Durante a tarde, será exibida a longa metragem "Rasganço" da cineasta Raquel Freire, que, à noite, fará o encerramento da mostra. A projecção do filme está sujeita a confirmação.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;A CURTA faz parte do programa do AECI (Ano Europeu da Criatividade e Inovação 2009) em Portugal.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;mais informações em &lt;a href="http://acurtasjm.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://acurtasjm.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;ORGANIZAÇÃO:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Teia dos Sentidos - Associação Cultural&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Rua Vale de Cambra, nº 203&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;3700-297 S. João da Madeira&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Site oficial: &lt;a href="http://simbiose.sitesedv.com/"&gt;http://simbiose.sitesedv.com/&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3233741416518386244-6218614521100618955?l=gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/feeds/6218614521100618955/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3233741416518386244&amp;postID=6218614521100618955' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/6218614521100618955'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/6218614521100618955'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/2009/07/curta-mostra-internacional-de-curtas.html' title='CURTA 2 - 2ª Mostra de Curtas Metragens de S. João da Madeira'/><author><name>Zaratustra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07793740456607510269</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/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Sl2divXQ2ZI/AAAAAAAAAuE/jX6J3mRHcyQ/s72-c/curtas.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3233741416518386244.post-3587990851207062559</id><published>2009-06-11T13:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-02-07T15:17:13.758-08:00</updated><title type='text'>SOBRE O FILO-CAFÉ "A DOENÇA"</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Poesia, discussão, filosofia, manifestos, memória, música, performance, erotismo num ambiente onde nem faltou espaço para o hip-hop e danças de salão, assim foi mais um Filo-Café da Incomunidade onde eu não podia deixar de estar presente.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Aqui ficam algumas fotos do evento:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;(Da cortesia de Nelson Silva)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SjFqxj2S4dI/AAAAAAAAAr0/ocr4VG3Fw60/s1600-h/3603554908_ba45961565.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 400px; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346171632334594514" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SjFqxj2S4dI/AAAAAAAAAr0/ocr4VG3Fw60/s400/3603554908_ba45961565.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Alberto Augusto Miranda&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SjFrC2ZhZUI/AAAAAAAAAr8/AZoHhyuJasM/s1600-h/3603554906_d25f2c2fa4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 400px; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346171929371960642" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SjFrC2ZhZUI/AAAAAAAAAr8/AZoHhyuJasM/s400/3603554906_d25f2c2fa4.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Bruno Resende&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SjFrcVvKhLI/AAAAAAAAAsE/WyuRcgcRs8Q/s1600-h/3603554904_4352c66d47.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 266px; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346172367280964786" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SjFrcVvKhLI/AAAAAAAAAsE/WyuRcgcRs8Q/s400/3603554904_4352c66d47.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Uma participante do Filo-Café&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SjFrwMVgfhI/AAAAAAAAAsM/6u8leMcbJ4w/s1600-h/3603554900_0e819f13c3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 400px; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346172708354817554" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SjFrwMVgfhI/AAAAAAAAAsM/6u8leMcbJ4w/s400/3603554900_0e819f13c3.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Eva Mendez Doroxo (Ao centro) Com Elisabete Pires Monteiro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;E Alexandre Teixeira Mendes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SjFsD6e12ZI/AAAAAAAAAsU/KE9mWrUlPnM/s1600-h/3603554898_b2cdd98422.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 266px; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346173047159511442" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SjFsD6e12ZI/AAAAAAAAAsU/KE9mWrUlPnM/s400/3603554898_b2cdd98422.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;João Fragoso, Presidente da Palimage &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SjFsZjGG-wI/AAAAAAAAAsc/SSC0Hfk4f7Y/s1600-h/3603547558_b00c8cabb9.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 400px; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346173418838883074" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SjFsZjGG-wI/AAAAAAAAAsc/SSC0Hfk4f7Y/s400/3603547558_b00c8cabb9.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Aurelino Costa declamando um dos seus poemas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SjFtCmiszqI/AAAAAAAAAsk/BPsloQm-X7o/s1600-h/3603547554_204c7f18a4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 400px; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346174124138745506" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SjFtCmiszqI/AAAAAAAAAsk/BPsloQm-X7o/s400/3603547554_204c7f18a4.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Teixeira Moita numa das suas (in)tervenções (ex)citantes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SjFte371_CI/AAAAAAAAAss/2zbClgJzWD4/s1600-h/3603547542_3e0fe8d170.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 266px; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346174609843944482" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SjFte371_CI/AAAAAAAAAss/2zbClgJzWD4/s400/3603547542_3e0fe8d170.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Eva Mendez Doroxo numa declamação "Hardcore" (1º Escalão)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SjFtyuX6iOI/AAAAAAAAAs0/6pa1_mLkJ3k/s1600-h/3603547536_5185798045.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 400px; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346174950874712290" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SjFtyuX6iOI/AAAAAAAAAs0/6pa1_mLkJ3k/s400/3603547536_5185798045.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Tiago Moita (ao microfone) expondo uma das suas opiniões&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SjFuG-kapNI/AAAAAAAAAs8/588Zm4NKbF0/s1600-h/3603547526_ecc1794819.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 400px; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346175298819499218" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SjFuG-kapNI/AAAAAAAAAs8/588Zm4NKbF0/s400/3603547526_ecc1794819.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Alexandre Teixeira Mendes no meio de uma conversa &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;entre Teixeira Moita e Elisabete Pires Monteiro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SjFugiwvbyI/AAAAAAAAAtE/E6-sAliabyY/s1600-h/3603547524_532cbc113a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 266px; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346175738031599394" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SjFugiwvbyI/AAAAAAAAAtE/E6-sAliabyY/s400/3603547524_532cbc113a.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;A performance de dança Hip-Hop dos "A.A.E Crew"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SjFu7knsfBI/AAAAAAAAAtM/t50SG1iB3cc/s1600-h/3602720921_71dd3eb9c4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 400px; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346176202386996242" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SjFu7knsfBI/AAAAAAAAAtM/t50SG1iB3cc/s400/3602720921_71dd3eb9c4.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Aurelino declamando um poema "Anti-Fascista" (25 de Abril Sempre!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SjFvchlFoqI/AAAAAAAAAtU/xWY0Zff3MQ4/s1600-h/3602720917_9e62a2ebf8.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 400px; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346176768506438306" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SjFvchlFoqI/AAAAAAAAAtU/xWY0Zff3MQ4/s400/3602720917_9e62a2ebf8.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Um pormenor da plateia do Filo-Café&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SjFwClONpwI/AAAAAAAAAtc/ha6Ro9Rzfbg/s1600-h/3602720915_ca91432aec.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 266px; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346177422319265538" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SjFwClONpwI/AAAAAAAAAtc/ha6Ro9Rzfbg/s400/3602720915_ca91432aec.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Santiago Macias&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SjFwnEQUEzI/AAAAAAAAAtk/iQdp3xcJW0g/s1600-h/3602720911_0fa7d8ac71.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 266px; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346178049124864818" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SjFwnEQUEzI/AAAAAAAAAtk/iQdp3xcJW0g/s400/3602720911_0fa7d8ac71.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Elisabete Monteiro declamando um poema&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SjFxWLgaYiI/AAAAAAAAAts/X199eUToBt0/s1600-h/3602720909_5e522fc8ed.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SjFyu4T_e7I/AAAAAAAAAt0/DwU4cxwWtgM/s1600-h/3602720907_ec995a38cd.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 266px; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346180382381276082" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SjFyu4T_e7I/AAAAAAAAAt0/DwU4cxwWtgM/s400/3602720907_ec995a38cd.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Um participante do Filo-Café&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3233741416518386244-3587990851207062559?l=gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/feeds/3587990851207062559/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3233741416518386244&amp;postID=3587990851207062559' title='5 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/3587990851207062559'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/3587990851207062559'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/2009/06/sobre-o-filo-cafe-doenca.html' title='SOBRE O FILO-CAFÉ &quot;A DOENÇA&quot;'/><author><name>Zaratustra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07793740456607510269</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/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SjFqxj2S4dI/AAAAAAAAAr0/ocr4VG3Fw60/s72-c/3603554908_ba45961565.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3233741416518386244.post-6393736134295628743</id><published>2009-06-11T13:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-11T13:26:33.454-07:00</updated><title type='text'>VESTIDO DE SALVAÇÃO</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Os meus nervos são fissuras &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;de castanho poente à luz &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;a luz come-se com jangadas de tristeza&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;nas madrugadas esfomeadas &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;e a noite foi feita para partir &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;os espelhos &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;e os esconderijos são abutres pintados&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;com sal&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;ardem sonhos de volúpia&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;nos vídeos esborrachados de sangue&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;os crânios quebrados com dinamite&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;e espadas cortando a nossa carne&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;no pescoço &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;explodem &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;e explodem navios imberbes &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;com cascos naufragados das ilusões&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;desvios crustáceos de sono &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;tombados na funesta neblina das marés&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;náuseas revolteando nas almas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;almas com náuseas revolvidas com tambores&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;e sal misturado com areia nas praias&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;as árvores são bosques antigos onde não nos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;encontramos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;deixem correr o mar deixem &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;deixem os pedaços do tempo embater em icebergues&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;deixem os cascos com barcos altos de fumo &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;enfumar-se na distante selva da orla&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;porque nós nada disto somos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;ossadas compõem nossas paredes gastas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;na arruaçada&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;e somos fragilidades empastadas &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;de lagoas secas no interstício&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;bate nas estradas velocissimamente&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;enlutado bate &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;bate raspando as lápides &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;do destino bate &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;porque a existência um dia te murmurará:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;parte para onde as lágrimas desvelem &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;parte para onde o mundo se intercepte de vestidos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;porque o sol cai nas vielas com frio&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;e nós tombamos cuspidos pela tísica foice&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;da salvação&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;abramos o vestido.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Carlos Filipe Vinagre&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;"Moluscos de Mântua" (Incomunidade, 2009)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3233741416518386244-6393736134295628743?l=gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/feeds/6393736134295628743/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3233741416518386244&amp;postID=6393736134295628743' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/6393736134295628743'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/6393736134295628743'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/2009/06/vestido-de-salvacao.html' title='VESTIDO DE SALVAÇÃO'/><author><name>Zaratustra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07793740456607510269</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-3233741416518386244.post-3576134388855183249</id><published>2009-06-01T12:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T13:54:43.536-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Filo-café A DOENÇA em Espinho</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SiQxTgFzgiI/AAAAAAAAArM/-MZj4bZY8Ko/s1600-h/cartaznelson.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 283px; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342449269069808162" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SiQxTgFzgiI/AAAAAAAAArM/-MZj4bZY8Ko/s400/cartaznelson.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Filo-Café: A Doença&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;6 de Junho de 2008, 21h30&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;Junta de Freguesia de Espinho&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;Rua 23, , nº 271&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Espinho&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Áreas de Emissão:&lt;/em&gt;Pensamento, Fotografia, Música, Performance, Poesia, Pequenas-Comunicações, artesanato, Filosofia, Semiótica, Pintura, Escultura.&lt;/span&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;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;As obras relativas às Artes Visuais devem ser instaladas, no espaço, entre as&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;14h e as 18h &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;do dia 6 de Junho.&lt;/span&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;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;Será apresentado o último livro de Carlos Vinagre:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Moluscos de Mântua&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt; de &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Carlos Pinto Vinagre&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;O Filo-Café admite colaborações virtuais (texto ou imagem) que serão publicados no blogue da&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Incomunidade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;Um&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Filo-Café&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;é, no essencial, um espaço público de trocas. Real. Com pessoas vivas, para lá do virtual. A partir de um tema, há uma pequena troca de comunicação (não superior a dez minutos) que serve para estimular a emissão do pensamento aberta a todos os presentes. No meio das trocas de pensamento surgem emissões artísticas: Pequenas performances, música, poesia, etc. Isto é: a conversa é espontânea, a emissão é artística é "preparada" antecipadamente. No espaço onde se realiza o filo-café há também lugar para a exposição de fotografia, pintura, escultura, instalação. É efémero. A participação na conversa é absolutamente livre. As inscrições, livres, destinam-se às pessoas que querem apresentar algum trabalho artístico.&lt;/span&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;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;Inscrições (&lt;em&gt;em permanente actualização)&lt;/em&gt;:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666600;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Eva Mendez Doroxo &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;(&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;Barcelona, Poesia);&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Nelson &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Silva&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;(Porto, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;Pensamento&lt;/em&gt;);&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Elisabete Pires Monteiro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;(&lt;em&gt;Porto, Pintura&lt;/em&gt;);&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Carlos Silva&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;(&lt;em&gt;Porto, Fotografia&lt;/em&gt;);&lt;/span&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;Alexandre Teixeira Mendes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;(&lt;em&gt;Porto, Pensamento&lt;/em&gt;);&lt;/span&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;Carlos Azevedo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;(&lt;em&gt;Lisboa, Poesia&lt;/em&gt;);&lt;/span&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Elisabete Monteiro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;(&lt;em&gt;Santa Maria da Feira, Poesia&lt;/em&gt;);&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Aurelino Costa&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;(&lt;em&gt;Argivai, Poesia&lt;/em&gt;);&lt;/span&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Hugo Calhim Cristóvão&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;(&lt;em&gt;Porto, Teatro&lt;/em&gt;);&lt;/span&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Carlos Pinto Vinagre&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;(&lt;em&gt;Espinho, Poesia&lt;/em&gt;);&lt;/span&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Ana Marina Pereira&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;(&lt;em&gt;Porto, Música&lt;/em&gt;);&lt;/span&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;Fernando Morais&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;(&lt;em&gt;Amarante, Ideias&lt;/em&gt;);&lt;/span&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;Manuel Lourenço Fernandes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt; (&lt;em&gt;Porto, Música&lt;/em&gt;);&lt;/span&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;Teixeira Moita&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;(&lt;em&gt;Porto, Música&lt;/em&gt;);&lt;/span&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;João Bezerra&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;(&lt;em&gt;Espinho, Ideias&lt;/em&gt;);&lt;/span&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Ricardo Gonçalves&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;(&lt;em&gt;Anta, Ideias&lt;/em&gt;);&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Vitor Villaça&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;(&lt;em&gt;Ruilhe, Ideias&lt;/em&gt;);&lt;/span&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Gustavo Marques&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;(&lt;em&gt;Espinho, Poesia&lt;/em&gt;);&lt;/span&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666600;"&gt;Gerardo Queipo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;(&lt;em&gt;Ponferrada, Cerâmica&lt;/em&gt;);&lt;/span&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;João Sá Fardinha&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;(&lt;em&gt;Granja, Ideias&lt;/em&gt;); &lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Ana Úrsula&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;(&lt;em&gt;Maia, Dança&lt;/em&gt;);&lt;/span&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;Fabíola Fernandes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;(&lt;em&gt;Viana do Castelo, Performance&lt;/em&gt;);&lt;/span&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;Santiago Macias&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;(&lt;em&gt;Ponferrada, Memória Histórica&lt;/em&gt;);&lt;/span&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;Hermínio Chaves Fernandes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;(&lt;em&gt;Vilar, Teatro&lt;/em&gt;);&lt;/span&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Alberto Augusto Miranda&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;(&lt;em&gt;Inc&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Júlia Moura Lopes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;(&lt;em&gt;Gaia, Poesia&lt;/em&gt;);&lt;/span&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Manuel Azevedo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;(&lt;em&gt;Vancouver, Ideias&lt;/em&gt;);&lt;/span&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Susana Guimarães&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;(&lt;em&gt;Gaia, Poesia&lt;/em&gt;);&lt;/span&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Narcisa Barbosa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;(&lt;em&gt;Gaia, Artes Visuais&lt;/em&gt;);&lt;/span&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;Anabela Brasinha&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;(&lt;em&gt;Porto, Ideias&lt;/em&gt;);&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Guilhermre Rodrigues&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;(&lt;em&gt;Lisboa, Música&lt;/em&gt;);&lt;/span&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Inês Andraney&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;(&lt;em&gt;Porto, Ideias&lt;/em&gt;);&lt;/span&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;A.A.E Crew&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt; &lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;(&lt;em&gt;Espinho, Música&lt;/em&gt;)&lt;/span&gt;;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;Manuela Vaz&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;(&lt;em&gt;Matosinhos, Fotografia&lt;/em&gt;);&lt;/span&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Bruno Resende&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;(&lt;em&gt;Porto, Artes Visuais&lt;/em&gt;);&lt;/span&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;Tiago Moita&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;(&lt;em&gt;S. João da Madeira, Ideias&lt;/em&gt;).&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3233741416518386244-3576134388855183249?l=gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/feeds/3576134388855183249/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3233741416518386244&amp;postID=3576134388855183249' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/3576134388855183249'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/3576134388855183249'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/2009/06/filo-cafe-doenca-em-espinho.html' title='Filo-café A DOENÇA em Espinho'/><author><name>Zaratustra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07793740456607510269</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/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SiQxTgFzgiI/AAAAAAAAArM/-MZj4bZY8Ko/s72-c/cartaznelson.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3233741416518386244.post-1827410468458394746</id><published>2009-03-18T13:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-18T14:04:28.339-07:00</updated><title type='text'>TIAGO MOITA PRESENTE NA CAMPANHA "POESIA À MESA 2009"</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/ScFfTRgbkdI/AAAAAAAAArE/luA3Q0Y3bAM/s1600-h/IMG_4987.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314633819995476434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/ScFfTRgbkdI/AAAAAAAAArE/luA3Q0Y3bAM/s400/IMG_4987.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;No programa cultural "POESIA À MESA 2009", o escritor Tiago Moita vai mais uma vez participar na peregrinação poética pelos bares da cidade de S. João da Madeira ao lado de José Fanha, Rita Salema e João Maria Pinto. O evento terá lugar nesta sexta-feira, dia 20 de Março.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;O evento começa a partir das 21H30 na Biblioteca Municipal da região.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Para além da sua presença na peregrinação poética, Tiago Moita participou no projecto "O MAIOR POEMA DO MUNDO" organizado pela Associação Cultural TEIA DOS SENTIDOS com o seguinte verso:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;TEMPO, LIBERDADE EM FLOR&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;METAMORFOSE EM MOVIMENTO&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;BEIJO HÚMIDO QUE FAZ DO AMOR&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;UMA ETERNIDADE SEM DOR NEM TEMPO&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;O MAIOR POEMA DO MUNDO vai ficar em exposição na Biblioteca Municipal até dia 22 de Março.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3233741416518386244-1827410468458394746?l=gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/feeds/1827410468458394746/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3233741416518386244&amp;postID=1827410468458394746' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/1827410468458394746'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/1827410468458394746'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/2009/03/tiago-moita-presente-na-campanha-poesia.html' title='TIAGO MOITA PRESENTE NA CAMPANHA &quot;POESIA À MESA 2009&quot;'/><author><name>Zaratustra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07793740456607510269</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/_ax5j0jpLtHg/ScFfTRgbkdI/AAAAAAAAArE/luA3Q0Y3bAM/s72-c/IMG_4987.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3233741416518386244.post-7721840753369295964</id><published>2009-03-18T13:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-18T13:50:16.666-07:00</updated><title type='text'>FILIPA LEAL EM S.JOÃO DA MADEIRA</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/ScFd4L0FJrI/AAAAAAAAAq0/aULFXVdfvg0/s1600-h/A+InexistÃªncia+de+Eva.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314632255099184818" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 225px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/ScFd4L0FJrI/AAAAAAAAAq0/aULFXVdfvg0/s400/A+Inexist%C3%AAncia+de+Eva.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;É já nesta quinta-feira, dia 19 de Março, pelas 21H30 que S. João da Madeira tem o prazer de receber mais uma vez a escritora e poeta Filipa Leal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;O motivo da sua presença deve-se à apresentação do seu último livro "A inexistência de Eva" (Deriva Editores)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Compareçam! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sobre a autora:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314632632573037906" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 206px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/ScFeOKA3DVI/AAAAAAAAAq8/IQk0XAZzkuU/s400/Filipa+Leal.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Filipa Leal nasceu no Porto em 1979. Formou-se em Jornalismo na Universidade de Westminster, em Londres, e é mestre em Estudos Portugueses e Brasileiros pela Faculdade de Letras da Universidade do Porto, onde apresentou a dissertação sobre os "Aspectos do cómico na poesia de Alexandre O'Neill, Adília Lopes Jorge Sousa Braga." Jornalista, fez uma breve incursão pela rádio e é editora do suplemento "Das Artes e Letras" no diário &lt;em&gt;O Primeiro de Janeiro&lt;/em&gt;. Depois de um ano de formação no Balleteatro do Porto, começou a participar, em 2003, em recitais de poesia no Teatro do Campo Alegre, ciclo do qual faz parte. Integrou o primeiro Encontro Internacional de Escritores da Galiza (2006), A Festa da Poesia, em Matosinhos (2007), e a nona edição do Correntes d'Escrita (2008). Está representada nas antologias "Uma luz de Papel" (Ed. Eterogémeas, 2007) e "Pathos", do colectivo A Musa ao Espelho (Gaialivro, 2007). Tem colaborações dispersas nas revistas Egoísta e Mealibra. Participa nos Seminários de Tradução Colectiva de Poesia da Fundação da Casa de Mateus.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Outros Livros da Autora:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;LUA-POLOROID &lt;/strong&gt;(Ficção), 2003, Corpos Editora;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;TALVEZ OS LÍRIOS COMPREENDAM &lt;/strong&gt;(Poesia), 2004, Cadernos do Campo Alegre&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A CIDADE LÍQUIDA E OUTRAS TEXTURAS &lt;/strong&gt;(Poesia), 2006/ 2ª ed. 2007, Deriva&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;O PROBLEMA DE SER NORTE &lt;/strong&gt;(Poesia), 2008, Deriva.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3233741416518386244-7721840753369295964?l=gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/feeds/7721840753369295964/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3233741416518386244&amp;postID=7721840753369295964' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/7721840753369295964'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/7721840753369295964'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/2009/03/filipa-leal-em-sjoao-da-madeira.html' title='FILIPA LEAL EM S.JOÃO DA MADEIRA'/><author><name>Zaratustra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07793740456607510269</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://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/ScFd4L0FJrI/AAAAAAAAAq0/aULFXVdfvg0/s72-c/A+Inexist%C3%AAncia+de+Eva.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3233741416518386244.post-7154664697087141328</id><published>2009-03-12T11:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-12T11:09:20.146-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Projecto "O MAIOR POEMA DA CIDADE" (16 de MArço, Biblioteca Municipal de S. João da Madeira</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SblPiMNCWRI/AAAAAAAAAqk/q3HwpKFhtGE/s1600-h/convite(1).jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312364684270262546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SblPiMNCWRI/AAAAAAAAAqk/q3HwpKFhtGE/s400/convite(1).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3233741416518386244-7154664697087141328?l=gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/feeds/7154664697087141328/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3233741416518386244&amp;postID=7154664697087141328' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/7154664697087141328'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/7154664697087141328'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/2009/03/projecto-o-maior-poema-da-cidade-16-de.html' title='Projecto &quot;O MAIOR POEMA DA CIDADE&quot; (16 de MArço, Biblioteca Municipal de S. João da Madeira'/><author><name>Zaratustra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07793740456607510269</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/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SblPiMNCWRI/AAAAAAAAAqk/q3HwpKFhtGE/s72-c/convite(1).jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3233741416518386244.post-138090391440683906</id><published>2009-03-12T11:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-12T11:06:33.554-07:00</updated><title type='text'>OUTROS OLHARES: JULIANA SEABRA</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SblO1RDf66I/AAAAAAAAAqc/SF65_-ZFffU/s1600-h/tania+ballet012.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312363912478321570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SblO1RDf66I/AAAAAAAAAqc/SF65_-ZFffU/s400/tania+ballet012.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3233741416518386244-138090391440683906?l=gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/feeds/138090391440683906/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3233741416518386244&amp;postID=138090391440683906' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/138090391440683906'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/138090391440683906'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/2009/03/outros-olhares-juliana-seabra.html' title='OUTROS OLHARES: JULIANA SEABRA'/><author><name>Zaratustra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07793740456607510269</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/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SblO1RDf66I/AAAAAAAAAqc/SF65_-ZFffU/s72-c/tania+ballet012.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3233741416518386244.post-6017579395408275503</id><published>2009-03-12T10:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-12T11:04:17.603-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"FECUNDAÇÃO" e "ALÍVIO" (Elisabete Monteiro)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SblOR_8z5tI/AAAAAAAAAqU/XyfJVqjEtDk/s1600-h/Elisabete+Monteiro"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312363306591446738" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 322px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SblOR_8z5tI/AAAAAAAAAqU/XyfJVqjEtDk/s400/Elisabete+Monteiro" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;"Fecundação"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312363037253145490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 258px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SblOCUljk5I/AAAAAAAAAqM/2iiUYH2AhOw/s400/Elisabete+Monteiro+II" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Alívio"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3233741416518386244-6017579395408275503?l=gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/feeds/6017579395408275503/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3233741416518386244&amp;postID=6017579395408275503' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/6017579395408275503'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/6017579395408275503'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/2009/03/fecundacao-e-alivio-elisabete-monteiro.html' title='&quot;FECUNDAÇÃO&quot; e &quot;ALÍVIO&quot; (Elisabete Monteiro)'/><author><name>Zaratustra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07793740456607510269</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/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SblOR_8z5tI/AAAAAAAAAqU/XyfJVqjEtDk/s72-c/Elisabete+Monteiro' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3233741416518386244.post-7089342544766390773</id><published>2009-03-12T09:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-18T14:06:41.780-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"SINOPSE" de Herberto Hélder</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Sbk92Xm0eZI/AAAAAAAAAp8/MkQBP-bWCQY/s1600-h/f_hhm_169266a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312345239719278994" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 257px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Sbk92Xm0eZI/AAAAAAAAAp8/MkQBP-bWCQY/s400/f_hhm_169266a.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sinopse:&lt;br /&gt;Engoli água. Profundamente: — a água estancada no ar.&lt;br /&gt;Uma estrela materna.&lt;br /&gt;E estou aqui devorado pelo meu soluço,&lt;br /&gt;leve da minha cara.&lt;br /&gt;O copo feito de estrela. A água com tanta força&lt;br /&gt;no copo. Tenho as unhas negras.&lt;br /&gt;Agarro nesse copo, bebo por essa estrela.&lt;br /&gt;Sou inocente, vago, fremente, potente,&lt;br /&gt;tumefacto.&lt;br /&gt;A iluminação que a água parada faz em mim&lt;br /&gt;das mãos à boca.&lt;br /&gt;Entro nos sítios amplos.&lt;br /&gt;— O poder de reluzir em mim um alimento&lt;br /&gt;ignoto; a cara&lt;br /&gt;se a roça a mão sombria, acima&lt;br /&gt;da camisa inchada pelo sangue,&lt;br /&gt;abaixo do cabelo enxuto à lua. Engoli&lt;br /&gt;água. A mãe e a criança demoníaca&lt;br /&gt;estavam sentadas na pedra vermelha.&lt;br /&gt;Engoli&lt;br /&gt;água profunda&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;******&lt;br /&gt;a vida inteira para fundar um poema,&lt;br /&gt;a pulso,&lt;br /&gt;um só, arterial, com abrasadura,&lt;br /&gt;que ao dizê-lo os dentes firam a língua,&lt;br /&gt;que o idioma se fira na boca inábil que o diga,&lt;br /&gt;só quase pressentimento fonético,&lt;br /&gt;filológico,&lt;br /&gt;mas que atenção, paixão, alumiação&lt;br /&gt;¿e se me tocam na boca?&lt;br /&gt;de noite, a mexer na seda para, desdobrando-se,&lt;br /&gt;a noite extraterrestre bruxulear um pouco,&lt;br /&gt;o último,&lt;br /&gt;assim como que húmido, animal, intuitivo, de origem,&lt;br /&gt;papel de seda que a rútila força lírica rompa,&lt;br /&gt;um arrepio dentro dele,&lt;br /&gt;batido, pode ser, no sombrio, como se a vara enflorasse com&lt;br /&gt;as faúlhas,&lt;br /&gt;e assim a mão escrita se depura,&lt;br /&gt;e se movem, estria atrás de estria, pontos voltaicos,&lt;br /&gt;manchas ultravioletas a arder através do filme,&lt;br /&gt;leve poema técnico e trémulo,&lt;br /&gt;linhas e linhas,&lt;br /&gt;línguas,&lt;br /&gt;obra-prima do êxtase das línguas,&lt;br /&gt;tudo movido virgem,&lt;br /&gt;e eu que tenho a meu cargo delicadeza e inebriamento&lt;br /&gt;¿tenho acaso no nome o inominável?&lt;br /&gt;mão batida, curta, sem estudo, maravilhada apenas,&lt;br /&gt;nada a ver com luminotecnia prática ou teórica,&lt;br /&gt;mas com grandes mãos, e eu brilhei,&lt;br /&gt;o meu nome brilhou entrando na frase inconsútil,&lt;br /&gt;e depois o ar, e os objectos que ocorrem: onde?&lt;br /&gt;fora? dentro?no aparte,&lt;br /&gt;no mais vidrado,no avêsso,&lt;br /&gt;no sistema demoroso do bicho interrompido na seda,&lt;br /&gt;fibra lavrada sangrando,&lt;br /&gt;uma qualquer arte intrépida por uma espécie de pilha&lt;br /&gt;eléctrica&lt;br /&gt;como alma: plenitude,&lt;br /&gt;através de um truque:&lt;br /&gt;os dedos com uma, suponhamos, estrela que se entorna sobre&lt;br /&gt;a mesa,&lt;br /&gt;poema trabalhado a energia alternativa,&lt;br /&gt;a fervor e ofício,&lt;br /&gt;enquanto a morte come onde me pode a vida toda&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*****&lt;br /&gt;aparas gregas de mármore em redor da cabeça,&lt;br /&gt;torso, ilhargas, membros e nos membros,rótulas, unhas,&lt;br /&gt;irrompem da água escarpada,&lt;br /&gt;o vídeo funciona,&lt;br /&gt;água para trás, crua, das minas,&lt;br /&gt;tu próprio crias pêso e leveza,&lt;br /&gt;luz própria,&lt;br /&gt;levanta-os com o corpo,&lt;br /&gt;cria com o corpo a tua própria gramática,&lt;br /&gt;o mundo nasce do vídeo, o caos do mundo, beltà, jubilação,&lt;br /&gt;abalo,&lt;br /&gt;que Deus funciona na sua glória electrónica&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* *****&lt;br /&gt;rosto de osso, cabelo rude, boca agra,&lt;br /&gt;e tão escuro em baixo até em&lt;br /&gt;cima a linha&lt;br /&gt;de ignição das pupilas&lt;br /&gt;¿em que te hás-de tornar, em que nome, com que&lt;br /&gt;potência e inclinação de cabeça?&lt;br /&gt;o rosto muito, o ofício turvo, o génio, o jogo,&lt;br /&gt;as mãos inexplicáveis,&lt;br /&gt;a luz nas mãos faz raiar os dedos,&lt;br /&gt;que a luz se desenvolva,&lt;br /&gt;e a madeira se enrole sobre si mesma e teça e esconda a obra&lt;br /&gt;e retorne e abra e mostre então&lt;br /&gt;a abundância intrínseca,&lt;br /&gt;porque se eriça num arrepio e se alvoroça&lt;br /&gt;o espaço, e brilha quando,&lt;br /&gt;no dia global,&lt;br /&gt;espacial, no visível,&lt;br /&gt;o caos alimenta a ordem estilística:&lt;br /&gt;iluminação,&lt;br /&gt;razão de obra de dentro para fora&lt;br /&gt;— mais um estio até que a força da fruta remate a forma&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Herberto Hélder&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;em&gt;A Faca não corta o fogo"&lt;/em&gt; (Assírio &amp;amp; Alvim, 2008)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3233741416518386244-7089342544766390773?l=gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/feeds/7089342544766390773/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3233741416518386244&amp;postID=7089342544766390773' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/7089342544766390773'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/7089342544766390773'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/2009/03/sinopse-de-herberto-helder.html' title='&quot;SINOPSE&quot; de Herberto Hélder'/><author><name>Zaratustra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07793740456607510269</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://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Sbk92Xm0eZI/AAAAAAAAAp8/MkQBP-bWCQY/s72-c/f_hhm_169266a.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3233741416518386244.post-4834052170626988467</id><published>2008-12-01T08:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-01T08:02:59.737-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Apresentação do Livro "Sentidos" - Paços da Cultura. S. João da Madeira, 06.12.2008</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/STQKUGlQpVI/AAAAAAAAAmg/Mo0CmjdVYXY/s1600-h/convite_digital.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274852404038247762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 283px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/STQKUGlQpVI/AAAAAAAAAmg/Mo0CmjdVYXY/s400/convite_digital.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3233741416518386244-4834052170626988467?l=gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/feeds/4834052170626988467/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3233741416518386244&amp;postID=4834052170626988467' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/4834052170626988467'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/4834052170626988467'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/2008/12/apresentao-do-livro-sentidos-paos-da.html' title='Apresentação do Livro &quot;Sentidos&quot; - Paços da Cultura. S. João da Madeira, 06.12.2008'/><author><name>Zaratustra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07793740456607510269</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://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/STQKUGlQpVI/AAAAAAAAAmg/Mo0CmjdVYXY/s72-c/convite_digital.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3233741416518386244.post-4574205972302218504</id><published>2008-11-08T13:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-18T10:27:19.060-08:00</updated><title type='text'>FILO-CAFÉ "FECUNDAÇÃO E ALÍVIO" no Porto</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SRYEToa9n1I/AAAAAAAAAmY/qi0Dq-sU7YU/s1600-h/f_originm_93ad8c9.png"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266401549570907986" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 298px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SRYEToa9n1I/AAAAAAAAAmY/qi0Dq-sU7YU/s400/f_originm_93ad8c9.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Filo-Café: Fecundação e Alívio&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;22 Novembro 2008, 21h30&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Orfeão do Porto, Praça da Batalha, 123 – 1º&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Porto&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Inscrições Abertas:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Para a sua inscrição, de forma livre, indique nome, lugar de proveniência e área de emissão, através de &lt;a href="mailto:incomunidade@gmail.com"&gt;incomunidade@gmail.com&lt;/a&gt; ou: (00351)965817337. As inscrições estarão abertas até ao dia 15 de Novembro (podendo ser fechadas antes, caso o nº de inscritos o justifique)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Áreas de Emissão: Pensamento, Fotografia, Música, Performance, Poesia, Pequenas-Comunicações, Artesanato, Filosofia, Semiótica, Pintura, Escultura.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;As obras relativas às Artes Visuais devem ser instaladas, no espaço do Orfeão, a partir de 17 de Novembro.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Inscritos (em actualização permanente):&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://tuboensaio.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Eugénia costa&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt; (&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;Coimbra&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;poética&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;), &lt;a href="http://imaginarioreal.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Nelson silva&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/a&gt;(&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Porto&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;fotografia&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;), &lt;a href="http://elisabetepiresmonteiro.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Elisabete pires Monteiro&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt; (&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;B&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;oticas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;pintura&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;), &lt;a href="http://alisenao.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Alice Valente&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt; (&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;Lisboa&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;pintura&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;), &lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Paula Silva&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; (&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;P&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;orto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;texto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;), &lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Vicente Pereira&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; (&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;Porto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;, &lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;pintura&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;), &lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Gilberto Martelo&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; (&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Porto&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;pintura&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;), &lt;a href="http://oprivilegiodoscaminhos.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Júlia Esmeralda&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt; (&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;Gaia&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;poética&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;), &lt;a href="http://alicemacedocampos.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Alice Macedo Campos&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt; (&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Penafiel&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;poética&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;), &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;S&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;vitlana Oksyuta&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; (&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;Kiev&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;música&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;), &lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;M&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://navicularia.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;ariola Soutelo&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/a&gt;(&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Compostela&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;música&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;), &lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;D&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://artdeborahnofret.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;eborah Nofret&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/a&gt;(&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ponferrada&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;fotografia&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;), &lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ana Luísa Monteiro&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; (&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;Boticas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;, &lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;fotografia&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;), &lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Alexandre Teixeira Mendes&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; (&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;Porto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;pensamento&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;), &lt;a href="http://www.textoetexto.tk/"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Teixeira Moita&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/a&gt;(&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Braga&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;pintura&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;), &lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Carlos Silva&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;(&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;Port&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;o&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Fotografia&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;), &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Pedro Riobom&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; (&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;Porto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;, &lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;artesanato&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;), &lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Carla mota&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; (&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Feira&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;artesanato&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;), &lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;M&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://culturagalega.info/autor.php?idautor=291&amp;amp;accion=autor"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;anoel Bonabal&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/a&gt;(&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;Compostela&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;, &lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;artes&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;), &lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;C&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.myspace.com/emmycurl"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;atarina Miranda&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt; (&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Vila Real&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;música&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;), &lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Aurelino Costa&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; (&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;Argivai&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;poesia&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;), &lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sílvia Cobán&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; (&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chisinau&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;música&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;), &lt;a href="http://www.umcafe.com/"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tomás Magalhães Carneiro&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt; (&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Porto&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;edição&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;), &lt;a href="http://nuisiszobop.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Hugo Calhim Cristóvão&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt; (&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;P&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;orto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;, &lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;pensamento&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;), &lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Jorge Taxa&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; (&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Porto&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;pensamento&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;), &lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Graça de Almeida&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; (&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;Porto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;, &lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;pintura&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;), &lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Isabel Silva Bernard&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;(&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;Porto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;artesanato&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;), &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Miguel Oliveira&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;(&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;Oliveira de Azeméis&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;, &lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;pintura&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;), &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;António Beça&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;(&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Porto&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;música&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;), &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;J. Jiménez&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;(&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;Corunha&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;, &lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;pintura&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;), &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Concha Rousia&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;(&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;Compostela&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;poesia&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;), &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tiago Moita&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt; (&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;S. João da Madeira&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;, &lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;poesia&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;), &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Hermínio Chaves Fernandes&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt; (&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Vilar&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;encenação&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;), &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Jorge Barreto&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt; (&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;Porto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;, &lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;design&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;), &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Marta Oliveira&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt; (&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Porto&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;artesanato&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;), &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Hugo Nascimento Veloso&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;(&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Porto&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;teatro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3233741416518386244-4574205972302218504?l=gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/feeds/4574205972302218504/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3233741416518386244&amp;postID=4574205972302218504' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/4574205972302218504'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/4574205972302218504'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/2008/11/filo-caf-fecundao-e-alvio-no-porto.html' title='FILO-CAFÉ &quot;FECUNDAÇÃO E ALÍVIO&quot; no Porto'/><author><name>Zaratustra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07793740456607510269</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/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SRYEToa9n1I/AAAAAAAAAmY/qi0Dq-sU7YU/s72-c/f_originm_93ad8c9.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3233741416518386244.post-22413101165480051</id><published>2008-09-25T05:40:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-08T13:17:57.740-08:00</updated><title type='text'>GONÇALO M.TAVARES EM S. JOÃO DA MADEIRA</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SNuH_Bah-ZI/AAAAAAAAAcA/BnHn-su4jrg/s1600-h/tavares2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249939307411667346" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SNuH_Bah-ZI/AAAAAAAAAcA/BnHn-su4jrg/s400/tavares2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É já amanhã, 25 de Setembro, pelas 18H00 que o célebre escritor português, autor do livro "Jerusalém" - vencedor do Prémio Saramago 2005, Gonçalo M. Tavares vem a S. João da Madeira, apresentar a sua mais recente obra "Aprender a Rezar na Era da Técnica"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SNuIFvZZcsI/AAAAAAAAAcI/KBbu5jwMttw/s1600-h/capa_aprender_a_rezar1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249939422834160322" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SNuIFvZZcsI/AAAAAAAAAcI/KBbu5jwMttw/s400/capa_aprender_a_rezar1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A apresentação terá lugar na Livraria Entrelinhas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Rua João de Deus, 167 - S. João da Madeira)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;faltar é loucura!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3233741416518386244-22413101165480051?l=gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/feeds/22413101165480051/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3233741416518386244&amp;postID=22413101165480051' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/22413101165480051'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/22413101165480051'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/2008/09/gonalo-mtavares-em-s-joo-da-madeira.html' title='GONÇALO M.TAVARES EM S. JOÃO DA MADEIRA'/><author><name>Zaratustra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07793740456607510269</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://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SNuH_Bah-ZI/AAAAAAAAAcA/BnHn-su4jrg/s72-c/tavares2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3233741416518386244.post-7995480287562732730</id><published>2008-07-28T05:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-28T06:17:37.827-07:00</updated><title type='text'>CERIMÓNIA DE ENTREGA DOS PRÉMIOS DO SAFARI FOTOGRÁFICO - ESCOLA SECUNDÁRIA SERAFIM LEITE EM S.JOÃO DA MADEIRA, 13.06.2008</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Foi num ambiente de grande expectativa que decorreu a gala de entrega de prémios pelo Safari fotográfico, realizado a 1 de Maio do corrente ano, na Escola Secundária Serafim Leite em S. João da Madeira. Foi numa sexta-feira, o tempo estava ameno mas bastante ventoso. O local foi o edifício do Centro Multidisciplinar da Escola em questão.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Aqui ficam as fotos do evento:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SI2-7EFBkNI/AAAAAAAAAbA/tIJSTr1mWfw/s1600-h/b5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228044664363389138" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SI2-7EFBkNI/AAAAAAAAAbA/tIJSTr1mWfw/s400/b5.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;O Presidente da Associação de Pais da Escola Secundária &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Serafim Leite&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SI2_lP7-HEI/AAAAAAAAAbI/gHMSS-JORXU/s1600-h/a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228045389101145154" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SI2_lP7-HEI/AAAAAAAAAbI/gHMSS-JORXU/s400/a.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;O Grupo "I Dance" do Centro de Cultura e Desporto&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SI3Ajt1rq4I/AAAAAAAAAbQ/pcb5fQwfAQ0/s1600-h/a1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228046462279723906" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SI3Ajt1rq4I/AAAAAAAAAbQ/pcb5fQwfAQ0/s400/a1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Marlene: Uma aluna da Escola Secundária Serafim Leite,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;tocando "My Imortal" dos Evanescence, na sua viola.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SI3Cdqqo77I/AAAAAAAAAbY/b6i_WT5Zq8w/s1600-h/b3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228048557372141490" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SI3Cdqqo77I/AAAAAAAAAbY/b6i_WT5Zq8w/s400/b3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Uma parte da plateia que assistiu à gala.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SI3C2y6NYHI/AAAAAAAAAbg/2uwQvAJP1b0/s1600-h/a6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228048989081657458" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SI3C2y6NYHI/AAAAAAAAAbg/2uwQvAJP1b0/s400/a6.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Marlene e o seu colega, João, tocando "Nothing Else Matters" &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;dos Metallica, em viola acústica.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SI3EKaiOxcI/AAAAAAAAAbo/dHbUa5QYCzI/s1600-h/a5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228050425647646146" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SI3EKaiOxcI/AAAAAAAAAbo/dHbUa5QYCzI/s400/a5.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;O grupo musical "CANTO NOVO", composto por Professores,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Funcionários e Alunos da Escola Secundária Serafim Leite.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SI3E3DVfaNI/AAAAAAAAAbw/kCz1oIVVCwo/s1600-h/b1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228051192514308306" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SI3E3DVfaNI/AAAAAAAAAbw/kCz1oIVVCwo/s400/b1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A entrega dos prémios do Safari Fotográfico.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SI3FnaihQyI/AAAAAAAAAb4/rXco5DBNa10/s1600-h/b4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228052023376692002" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SI3FnaihQyI/AAAAAAAAAb4/rXco5DBNa10/s400/b4.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Após o encerramento da Gala, a confraternização.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3233741416518386244-7995480287562732730?l=gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/feeds/7995480287562732730/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3233741416518386244&amp;postID=7995480287562732730' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/7995480287562732730'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/7995480287562732730'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/2008/07/cerimnia-de-entrega-dos-prmios-do.html' title='CERIMÓNIA DE ENTREGA DOS PRÉMIOS DO SAFARI FOTOGRÁFICO - ESCOLA SECUNDÁRIA SERAFIM LEITE EM S.JOÃO DA MADEIRA, 13.06.2008'/><author><name>Zaratustra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07793740456607510269</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://bp0.blogger.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SI2-7EFBkNI/AAAAAAAAAbA/tIJSTr1mWfw/s72-c/b5.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3233741416518386244.post-1437983066956796213</id><published>2008-07-14T07:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-14T07:45:27.020-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Curtam as Curtas em S. João da Madeira</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SHtj44Vw_bI/AAAAAAAAAa4/gdI4Iq3ZsPI/s1600-h/curtas1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222878021713722802" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SHtj44Vw_bI/AAAAAAAAAa4/gdI4Iq3ZsPI/s400/curtas1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A TEIA dos SENTIDOS Associação Cultural vai realizar nos próximos dias 15, 16 e 17 de Julho a 1ª Mostra Nacional de Curtas-metragens em São João da Madeira.&lt;br /&gt;A CURTA é uma iniciativa que pretende estimular o gosto pela sétima arte e incentivar jovens talentos. Contamos com material diversificado são trabalhos desenvolvidos por jovens estudantes de diversas instituições de ensino (Escola Univ. Aveiro, Cine Avanca, Univ. Católica, Esc. Sup. Artística do Porto, entre outras).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Esta mostra irá decorrer no Auditório dos Paços da Cultura em S. João da Madeira a partir das 21:30 durante os dias 15, 16 e a7 de Julho.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Para saber mais visite em &lt;a href="http://simbiose.sitesedv.com/"&gt;http://simbiose.sitesedv.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3233741416518386244-1437983066956796213?l=gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/feeds/1437983066956796213/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3233741416518386244&amp;postID=1437983066956796213' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/1437983066956796213'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/1437983066956796213'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/2008/07/curtam-as-curtas-em-s-joo-da-madeira.html' title='Curtam as Curtas em S. João da Madeira'/><author><name>Zaratustra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07793740456607510269</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://bp0.blogger.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SHtj44Vw_bI/AAAAAAAAAa4/gdI4Iq3ZsPI/s72-c/curtas1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3233741416518386244.post-3592660212533433508</id><published>2008-07-04T10:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-04T10:36:55.236-07:00</updated><title type='text'>ARTE EM MOVIMENTO (TEIXEIRA MOITA)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SG5fkFHwmYI/AAAAAAAAAaw/DQpacmnSN2w/s1600-h/Colonel+Garcia+(TX+Moita).jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SG5fkFHwmYI/AAAAAAAAAaw/DQpacmnSN2w/s400/Colonel+Garcia+(TX+Moita).jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5219214091623635330" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Colonel Garcia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Teixeira Moita&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3233741416518386244-3592660212533433508?l=gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/feeds/3592660212533433508/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3233741416518386244&amp;postID=3592660212533433508' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/3592660212533433508'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/3592660212533433508'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/2008/07/arte-em-movimento-teixeira-moita.html' title='ARTE EM MOVIMENTO (TEIXEIRA MOITA)'/><author><name>Zaratustra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07793740456607510269</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://bp0.blogger.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SG5fkFHwmYI/AAAAAAAAAaw/DQpacmnSN2w/s72-c/Colonel+Garcia+(TX+Moita).jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3233741416518386244.post-6781587042849983874</id><published>2008-06-16T11:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-16T11:58:18.184-07:00</updated><title type='text'>VISÃO OBLÍQUA (10.06.2008)</title><content type='html'>O Homem que sonha ter o sol&lt;br /&gt;Entre o orvalho do céu da boca&lt;br /&gt;não persegue tempestades de areia&lt;br /&gt;nem semeia sombras no cérebro&lt;br /&gt;caminha na estrada que escolheu seguir&lt;br /&gt;com o o infinito na ponta dos dedos&lt;br /&gt;o coração a servir de bússola&lt;br /&gt;a eternidade num momento&lt;br /&gt;e o paraíso no horizonte.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TIAGO MOITA&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3233741416518386244-6781587042849983874?l=gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/feeds/6781587042849983874/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3233741416518386244&amp;postID=6781587042849983874' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/6781587042849983874'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/6781587042849983874'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/2008/06/viso-oblqua-10062008.html' title='VISÃO OBLÍQUA (10.06.2008)'/><author><name>Zaratustra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07793740456607510269</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-3233741416518386244.post-6471371972468546426</id><published>2008-06-16T11:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-16T11:47:43.312-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A "TEIA..." NA "CIDADE NO JARDIM"</title><content type='html'>Foi num solarengo e ameno 10 de Junho que terminou o famoso evento anual "A Cidade no Jardim" - Um evento promovido pela Câmara Municipal de S. João da Madeira, que tem como objectivo apresentar à comunidade as associaçõe locais da região, numa grande festa de celebração e confraternização e troca de ideias e iniciativas cheias de luz cor...e claro, boa comida e bebida :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apesar de recente, a Associação TEIA DOS SENTIDOS  não pode faltar à festa, e juntou-se à iniciativa, num evento que surpreendeu os presentes (especialmete, os vizinhos do nosso "stand") com iniciativas didáticas e bastante originais, como demonstram as fotografias:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SFawkqGqIlI/AAAAAAAAAYI/6pbt9wb7AvM/s1600-h/00.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SFawkqGqIlI/AAAAAAAAAYI/6pbt9wb7AvM/s400/00.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212547762551923282" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SFawxiomJlI/AAAAAAAAAYQ/JLq4pXNxoOo/s1600-h/12.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SFawxiomJlI/AAAAAAAAAYQ/JLq4pXNxoOo/s400/12.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212547983885084242" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SFaxA0wYttI/AAAAAAAAAYY/mPUP5iif5Ko/s1600-h/17.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SFaxA0wYttI/AAAAAAAAAYY/mPUP5iif5Ko/s400/17.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212548246447634130" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SFaxLyVjlRI/AAAAAAAAAYg/aVEhbVwfoy8/s1600-h/13.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SFaxLyVjlRI/AAAAAAAAAYg/aVEhbVwfoy8/s400/13.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212548434776790290" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SFaxXpEY5HI/AAAAAAAAAYo/RWKCAaxIknM/s1600-h/1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SFaxXpEY5HI/AAAAAAAAAYo/RWKCAaxIknM/s400/1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212548638447297650" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SFaxhGJTJLI/AAAAAAAAAYw/m93Y706vQmI/s1600-h/27.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SFaxhGJTJLI/AAAAAAAAAYw/m93Y706vQmI/s400/27.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212548800871343282" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SFaxtEoa7lI/AAAAAAAAAY4/eE7WBptZTS4/s1600-h/16.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SFaxtEoa7lI/AAAAAAAAAY4/eE7WBptZTS4/s400/16.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212549006623436370" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SFayMLCKHnI/AAAAAAAAAZI/fQ2fo5ydMvE/s1600-h/5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SFayMLCKHnI/AAAAAAAAAZI/fQ2fo5ydMvE/s400/5.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212549540917943922" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SFayWvsFKsI/AAAAAAAAAZQ/VLYSZQ7PqVo/s1600-h/4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SFayWvsFKsI/AAAAAAAAAZQ/VLYSZQ7PqVo/s400/4.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212549722556148418" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SFay8S-0-BI/AAAAAAAAAZY/K71ZGSQn6Zs/s1600-h/36.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SFay8S-0-BI/AAAAAAAAAZY/K71ZGSQn6Zs/s400/36.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212550367685179410" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SFazIKQnjtI/AAAAAAAAAZg/rOZQZvAcD1U/s1600-h/28.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SFazIKQnjtI/AAAAAAAAAZg/rOZQZvAcD1U/s400/28.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212550571502309074" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SFazapcReYI/AAAAAAAAAZo/g44UUpS1Ik4/s1600-h/42.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SFazapcReYI/AAAAAAAAAZo/g44UUpS1Ik4/s400/42.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212550889110337922" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SFazlGMSCkI/AAAAAAAAAZw/beRqkwzPK2E/s1600-h/43.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SFazlGMSCkI/AAAAAAAAAZw/beRqkwzPK2E/s400/43.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212551068626586178" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SFazvQuFxoI/AAAAAAAAAZ4/1UWJSWaaVeo/s1600-h/44.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SFazvQuFxoI/AAAAAAAAAZ4/1UWJSWaaVeo/s400/44.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212551243251435138" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SFaz5EnCecI/AAAAAAAAAaA/NI64zHvHhl4/s1600-h/49.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SFaz5EnCecI/AAAAAAAAAaA/NI64zHvHhl4/s400/49.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212551411799325122" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SFa0C0H3tPI/AAAAAAAAAaI/FH0E3vGwBNA/s1600-h/51.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SFa0C0H3tPI/AAAAAAAAAaI/FH0E3vGwBNA/s400/51.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212551579172320498" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SFa0Yl8z3EI/AAAAAAAAAaQ/_23q4KuFadE/s1600-h/60.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SFa0Yl8z3EI/AAAAAAAAAaQ/_23q4KuFadE/s400/60.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212551953324956738" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SFa0jtHiJ7I/AAAAAAAAAaY/GHEdh-FUcRk/s1600-h/64.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SFa0jtHiJ7I/AAAAAAAAAaY/GHEdh-FUcRk/s400/64.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212552144227542962" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SFa0wyJO4nI/AAAAAAAAAag/EXJWSjwvgTg/s1600-h/66.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SFa0wyJO4nI/AAAAAAAAAag/EXJWSjwvgTg/s400/66.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212552368915145330" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SFa1IPXuhZI/AAAAAAAAAao/3hmx-n6l1GA/s1600-h/0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SFa1IPXuhZI/AAAAAAAAAao/3hmx-n6l1GA/s400/0.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212552771897558418" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3233741416518386244-6471371972468546426?l=gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/feeds/6471371972468546426/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3233741416518386244&amp;postID=6471371972468546426' title='6 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/6471371972468546426'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/6471371972468546426'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/2008/06/teia-na-cidade-no-jardim.html' title='A &quot;TEIA...&quot; NA &quot;CIDADE NO JARDIM&quot;'/><author><name>Zaratustra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07793740456607510269</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://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SFawkqGqIlI/AAAAAAAAAYI/6pbt9wb7AvM/s72-c/00.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3233741416518386244.post-5090304395134585248</id><published>2008-06-16T11:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-16T11:12:02.910-07:00</updated><title type='text'>RIO</title><content type='html'>Vozes sem voz navegam em silêncios &lt;br /&gt;Apenas descritos pelas plantas e pelas pedras&lt;br /&gt;Que afogam os seus timbres&lt;br /&gt;Pelas gargantas do olvido&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cresce nas suas artérias &lt;br /&gt;O sangue da terra virgem&lt;br /&gt;Que dividiste durante o teu nascimento, &lt;br /&gt;O salto para o mundo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O sangue que circula nas tuas veias&lt;br /&gt;Transborda palavras por lavrar, a eterna poesia&lt;br /&gt;A língua por beber das tuas lágrimas,&lt;br /&gt;O orvalho da aurora&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nada escapou à tua marcha&lt;br /&gt;Vales, montanhas, florestas, planícies&lt;br /&gt;Retratos ébrios de uma natureza parda&lt;br /&gt;Desenhados com a frieza dos teus dedos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Além do horizonte: o destino &lt;br /&gt;O fim da viagem que traçou o teu rumo,&lt;br /&gt;O encontro prometido&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;O abraço húmido com o espelho de sal&lt;br /&gt;Que separou novos mundos do Mundo&lt;br /&gt;A lágrima de Deus, baptizada com o nome “mar”,&lt;br /&gt;Guardador de impérios e de segredos,&lt;br /&gt;Mão que acolhe os rios para o seio da vida.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TIAGO MOITA&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3233741416518386244-5090304395134585248?l=gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/feeds/5090304395134585248/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3233741416518386244&amp;postID=5090304395134585248' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/5090304395134585248'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/5090304395134585248'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/2008/06/rio.html' title='RIO'/><author><name>Zaratustra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07793740456607510269</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-3233741416518386244.post-3432154185051875429</id><published>2008-06-16T10:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-16T11:10:03.947-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A SESSÃO DE APRESENTAÇÃO DA ASSOCIAÇÃO "TEIA DOS SENTIDOS"</title><content type='html'>Foi num ambiente de grande expectativa e emoção, que no dia 10 de Maio, Sábado, foi apresentada em S. João da Madeira - cidade que a viu nascer, a Associação Cultural "TEIA DOS SENTIDOS". Apesar de não estar presente um grande número de pessoas, foi possível constactar num espaço de tempo que não circunscreveu uma hora, um conjunto de iniciativas ambiociosas e demonstrativas do potencial desta jovem associação, que demonstrou nesta sessão que "tem pernas para andar"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aqui ficam algumas fotos da sessão:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SFapIegQvNI/AAAAAAAAAWw/laxKH0bDXs8/s1600-h/1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SFapIegQvNI/AAAAAAAAAWw/laxKH0bDXs8/s400/1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212539581820353746" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SFapdwye55I/AAAAAAAAAW4/K36TIQghAb0/s1600-h/2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SFapdwye55I/AAAAAAAAAW4/K36TIQghAb0/s400/2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212539947505870738" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SFapuE3mkhI/AAAAAAAAAXA/C5mK56aHj2g/s1600-h/4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SFapuE3mkhI/AAAAAAAAAXA/C5mK56aHj2g/s400/4.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212540227773960722" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SFaqBW_HsII/AAAAAAAAAXI/InB4BRqov9I/s1600-h/5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SFaqBW_HsII/AAAAAAAAAXI/InB4BRqov9I/s400/5.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212540559054844034" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SFaqWtgn3-I/AAAAAAAAAXQ/hP2i_7o_z4M/s1600-h/6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SFaqWtgn3-I/AAAAAAAAAXQ/hP2i_7o_z4M/s400/6.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212540925878198242" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SFaqqmPcVHI/AAAAAAAAAXY/n8QSqK-YiZc/s1600-h/7.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SFaqqmPcVHI/AAAAAAAAAXY/n8QSqK-YiZc/s400/7.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212541267524473970" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SFaq9wyFQvI/AAAAAAAAAXg/WaHLx275QDI/s1600-h/8.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SFaq9wyFQvI/AAAAAAAAAXg/WaHLx275QDI/s400/8.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212541596771631858" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SFarPEv42UI/AAAAAAAAAXo/zomUbaCOVEY/s1600-h/9.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SFarPEv42UI/AAAAAAAAAXo/zomUbaCOVEY/s400/9.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212541894188915010" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SFare6cageI/AAAAAAAAAXw/XvhyHJiT9MY/s1600-h/10.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SFare6cageI/AAAAAAAAAXw/XvhyHJiT9MY/s400/10.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212542166300787170" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Fotos tiradas por Filomena Tavares)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SFarzohU2gI/AAAAAAAAAX4/fjME9TyeKRM/s1600-h/2483134527_54724ffb45_o.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SFarzohU2gI/AAAAAAAAAX4/fjME9TyeKRM/s400/2483134527_54724ffb45_o.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212542522266802690" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SFasAsA_eCI/AAAAAAAAAYA/vHXJ5uezBp0/s1600-h/2483148623_25aab355ef_o.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SFasAsA_eCI/AAAAAAAAAYA/vHXJ5uezBp0/s400/2483148623_25aab355ef_o.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212542746543224866" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Fotos tiradas por Rosa Familiar)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3233741416518386244-3432154185051875429?l=gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/feeds/3432154185051875429/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3233741416518386244&amp;postID=3432154185051875429' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/3432154185051875429'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/3432154185051875429'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/2008/06/sesso-de-apresentao-da-associao-teia.html' title='A SESSÃO DE APRESENTAÇÃO DA ASSOCIAÇÃO &quot;TEIA DOS SENTIDOS&quot;'/><author><name>Zaratustra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07793740456607510269</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/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SFapIegQvNI/AAAAAAAAAWw/laxKH0bDXs8/s72-c/1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3233741416518386244.post-5676554349833988410</id><published>2008-06-16T10:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-16T10:47:25.229-07:00</updated><title type='text'>CREPÚSCULO</title><content type='html'>O horizonte, lâmina do céu&lt;br /&gt;Espelha um rosto em movimento&lt;br /&gt;A miragem muda&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O céu, camaleão boreal&lt;br /&gt;Assiste sem língua à morte do sol&lt;br /&gt;A menstruação da tarde&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O sol, seio de luz&lt;br /&gt;Despede-se do mundo que o respira&lt;br /&gt;Sem lágrimas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As nuvens, rebanhos de sonhos&lt;br /&gt;Devolvem a virgindade ao crepúsculo&lt;br /&gt;A melancolia do tempo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A lua apresenta a noite&lt;br /&gt;E o silêncio que fermenta o sangue&lt;br /&gt;Com que são feitos os versos&lt;br /&gt;As palavras proibidas&lt;br /&gt;Esquecidas por entre as sílabas do sono&lt;br /&gt;Os ecos das sombras do dia&lt;br /&gt;Que a noite afoga num abraço&lt;br /&gt;Pelos abismos do olvido&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O mel da vida&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TIAGO MOITA&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3233741416518386244-5676554349833988410?l=gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/feeds/5676554349833988410/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3233741416518386244&amp;postID=5676554349833988410' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/5676554349833988410'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/5676554349833988410'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/2008/06/crepsculo.html' title='CREPÚSCULO'/><author><name>Zaratustra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07793740456607510269</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-3233741416518386244.post-8697382054516646857</id><published>2008-06-16T10:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-16T10:37:03.593-07:00</updated><title type='text'>V TERTÚLIA DE POESIA DE VALE DE CAMBRA (20.03.2008 - QUINTA-FEIRA)</title><content type='html'>No dia 20 de Março deste ano, quinta-feira, teve lugar na Biblioteca Municipal de Vale de Cambra a V TERTÚLIA DE POESIA DE VALE DE CAMBRA, promovida pela Vereadora da Cultura da Câmara Municipal de Vale de Cambra - Um evento ao qual não pode faltar alguns elementos da Associação Cultural TEIA DOS SENTIDOS, ao qual eu faço parte e muitas pessoas de diferentes idades,classes, sexos,géneros e feitios que partilharam naquela noite a mais nobre e bela forma de comunicar de todo o universo: A Poesia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Da minha parte, aproveitei o momento para declamar o poema "UM SEGUNDO", extraído do meu primeiro Livro "ECOS MUDOS" e um poema, extraído do livro de um dos meus poetas favoritos (e fonte de inspiração), António Ramos Rosa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aqui ficam algumas fotos do evento:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SFajI6vvLQI/AAAAAAAAAWI/Qb0a64_ufAk/s1600-h/1-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SFajI6vvLQI/AAAAAAAAAWI/Qb0a64_ufAk/s400/1-1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212532992331689218" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SFajg70-mZI/AAAAAAAAAWQ/Idx488A4DRQ/s1600-h/2-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SFajg70-mZI/AAAAAAAAAWQ/Idx488A4DRQ/s400/2-1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212533404938967442" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SFaj0GhtdtI/AAAAAAAAAWY/0C2dtjc0cUE/s1600-h/2355257057_34cff3026f_o.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SFaj0GhtdtI/AAAAAAAAAWY/0C2dtjc0cUE/s400/2355257057_34cff3026f_o.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212533734228457170" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SFakGweGNqI/AAAAAAAAAWg/aEnuT_pi0PI/s1600-h/2356088210_89fd3f1d9c_o.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SFakGweGNqI/AAAAAAAAAWg/aEnuT_pi0PI/s400/2356088210_89fd3f1d9c_o.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212534054725236386" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SFakVUEGMtI/AAAAAAAAAWo/oHGUhp1toEI/s1600-h/2356089174_73c551678f_o.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SFakVUEGMtI/AAAAAAAAAWo/oHGUhp1toEI/s400/2356089174_73c551678f_o.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212534304798028498" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Montagem fotográfica de Rosa Familiar)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3233741416518386244-8697382054516646857?l=gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/feeds/8697382054516646857/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3233741416518386244&amp;postID=8697382054516646857' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/8697382054516646857'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/8697382054516646857'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/2008/06/v-tertlia-de-poesia-de-vale-de-cambra.html' title='V TERTÚLIA DE POESIA DE VALE DE CAMBRA (20.03.2008 - QUINTA-FEIRA)'/><author><name>Zaratustra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07793740456607510269</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://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/SFajI6vvLQI/AAAAAAAAAWI/Qb0a64_ufAk/s72-c/1-1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3233741416518386244.post-8620206061876094012</id><published>2008-04-02T05:13:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-02T06:47:29.150-07:00</updated><title type='text'>O QUE FOI O FILO-CAFÉ "A REVOLTA DAS PALAVRAS"</title><content type='html'>Foi num ambiente de grande entusiasmo e expectativa que ocorreu no passado dia 27 de Março, quinta-feira, pelas 22H30 no art7&lt;&gt;Teia dos Sentidos&lt;/em&gt;, intitulado "A Revolta das Palavras". O conflito entre imagem e palavra foi o mote que deu origem ao tema do evento. Durante mais de duas horas, soltaram-se as palavras e as emoções. Quebrou-se o gelo e gerou-se uma simbiose entre o público e aqueles que intervieram naquele que ficou conhecido como o primeiro grande evento desta recém-formada associação cultural, nascida a 11 de Fevereiro do corrente ano.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aqui ficam algumas fotos desse evento:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R_N5n84Lm6I/AAAAAAAAATA/im5GsS9QFG4/s1600-h/01.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5184621323297201058" style="WIDTH: 298px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 265px" height="300" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R_N5n84Lm6I/AAAAAAAAATA/im5GsS9QFG4/s400/01.jpg" width="324" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vítor Alves, gerente do Art7&lt;&gt; &lt;div&gt;Tiago Moita apresentando o Filo-Café "A Revolta das Palavras"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;(à direita) e algumas das pessoas presentes no evento (em baixo)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R_N5vc4Lm7I/AAAAAAAAATI/LT6D32hqc2I/s1600-h/02.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5184621452146219954" style="CURSOR: hand" height="261" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R_N5vc4Lm7I/AAAAAAAAATI/LT6D32hqc2I/s400/02.jpg" width="337" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A apresentação poético-teatral da Presidente da Associação&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Teia dos Sentidos&lt;/em&gt; da associação que organizou o Filo-Café&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;(Canto superior esquerdo), Victor José declamando um &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;poema (à direita) e o início da projecção da curta-metragem&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Preto e Branco" de João Rodrigues (canto inferior esquerdo)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R_N53c4Lm8I/AAAAAAAAATQ/90Xvwt67jsE/s1600-h/03.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5184621589585173442" style="CURSOR: hand" height="250" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R_N53c4Lm8I/AAAAAAAAATQ/90Xvwt67jsE/s400/03.jpg" width="342" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Filomena Carvalho e Victor José, durante a sua intervenção&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;poética (à esquerda), Eduardo Carvalho declamando um &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;poema (canto superior direito) e Vítor Alves endireitando&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;um quadro de Maria da Glória, depois da inauguração&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R_N5-c4Lm9I/AAAAAAAAATY/r2JSkvKF2SQ/s1600-h/04.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5184621709844257746" style="WIDTH: 346px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 242px" height="232" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R_N5-c4Lm9I/AAAAAAAAATY/r2JSkvKF2SQ/s400/04.jpg" width="316" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Salomé Pinto (à esquerda), Vítor Alves (ao centro) e Susana&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Alves (à direita) durante a "passarelle" dos quadros de Bruno&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Resende. Em cima, Eduardo Carvalho declamando um poema&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R_N_Uc4LnOI/AAAAAAAAAVg/IJAthYJ_qrM/s1600-h/05.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5184627585359518946" style="WIDTH: 349px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 276px" height="266" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R_N_Uc4LnOI/AAAAAAAAAVg/IJAthYJ_qrM/s400/05.jpg" width="329" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mário Silva durante o seu "Monólogo da Palavra" (canto&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;superior esquerdo), Gil Milheiro (ao centro) e os músicos &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;da Brigada Victor Jarra durante a sua intervenção musical&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;e poética.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R_N6Xs4Lm_I/AAAAAAAAATo/Aa6GGtgmdbE/s1600-h/06.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5184622143635954674" style="WIDTH: 350px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 277px" height="280" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R_N6Xs4Lm_I/AAAAAAAAATo/Aa6GGtgmdbE/s400/06.jpg" width="361" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A actriz Susana Alves iniciando a sua intervenção (à esquerda),&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nanni Pinto durante a sua performance de Tai-Chi/música/Poesia&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;(em cima) e Apolinário tocando flauta durante a performance de &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nanni Pinto (canto inferior direito)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R_N6lc4LnAI/AAAAAAAAATw/insW6qjfOzM/s1600-h/07.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5184622379859155970" style="CURSOR: hand" height="287" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R_N6lc4LnAI/AAAAAAAAATw/insW6qjfOzM/s400/07.jpg" width="350" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Diogo, durante a performance teatral "O Beijo" (Canto superior&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Esquerdo), Susana Alves, durante a sua performance poética&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;(Em cima e no canto inferior esquerdo), A pintora Maria da &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Glória com o seu marido (ao centro) e Vítor Alves, no início&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;da sua performance teatral "O Beijo" (canto superior direito)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R_N6vs4LnBI/AAAAAAAAAT4/-AFw6WKgREc/s1600-h/08.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5184622555952815122" style="WIDTH: 357px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 281px" height="276" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R_N6vs4LnBI/AAAAAAAAAT4/-AFw6WKgREc/s400/08.jpg" width="352" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A Dança Performativa "Ponto Aqui" de Samar e Mariana&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;E uma amostra do público que assistiu e participou no &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Filo-Café "A Revolta das Palavras"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R_N6-84LnCI/AAAAAAAAAUA/l7oJMjnFntk/s1600-h/09.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5184622817945820194" style="CURSOR: hand" height="283" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R_N6-84LnCI/AAAAAAAAAUA/l7oJMjnFntk/s400/09.jpg" width="356" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A performance teatral "O beijo" (Canto superior esquerdo),&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A Dança Performativa "Ponto aqui" (em cima e no canto inferior&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Direito), Eduardo Carvalho (Canto inferior esquerdo) e Filomena&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tavares com Rosa Familiar (Canto superior direito)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R_N7KM4LnDI/AAAAAAAAAUI/SGhz13DPiQM/s1600-h/10.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5184623011219348530" style="WIDTH: 353px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 279px" height="287" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R_N7KM4LnDI/AAAAAAAAAUI/SGhz13DPiQM/s400/10.jpg" width="375" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O encerramento do Filo-Café. (No canto superior direito,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ângela Almeida, responsável pelo slide show fotográfico do&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Filo-Café e, no canto inferior esquerdo, a pintora Maria da&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Glória com o seu marido)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R_N7b84LnEI/AAAAAAAAAUQ/Q4v_NRMsEFc/s1600-h/17.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5184623316162026562" style="WIDTH: 188px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 295px" height="356" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R_N7b84LnEI/AAAAAAAAAUQ/Q4v_NRMsEFc/s400/17.jpg" width="231" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A Presidente da Associação &lt;em&gt;Teia dos Sentidos,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Salomé Pinto&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R_N74s4LnFI/AAAAAAAAAUY/aM-NDJUS5wY/s1600-h/11.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5184623810083265618" style="WIDTH: 308px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 225px" height="245" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R_N74s4LnFI/AAAAAAAAAUY/aM-NDJUS5wY/s400/11.jpg" width="359" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Da esquerda para a direita: Eduardo Carvalho, Rosa Familiar,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Filomena Carvalho e Andreia Barbosa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R_N8H84LnGI/AAAAAAAAAUg/eKpXrYyg6js/s1600-h/12.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5184624072076270690" style="WIDTH: 209px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 315px" height="334" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R_N8H84LnGI/AAAAAAAAAUg/eKpXrYyg6js/s400/12.jpg" width="223" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vítor Alves, gerente do Art7&lt;&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R_N8l84LnHI/AAAAAAAAAUo/tX945CUccmY/s1600-h/13.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5184624587472346226" style="WIDTH: 311px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 241px" height="231" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R_N8l84LnHI/AAAAAAAAAUo/tX945CUccmY/s400/13.jpg" width="292" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A intervenção poética de Victor José e Filomena Carvalho&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R_N88s4LnII/AAAAAAAAAUw/qWIvX4fk5yw/s1600-h/18.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5184624978314370178" style="WIDTH: 304px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 220px" height="235" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R_N88s4LnII/AAAAAAAAAUw/qWIvX4fk5yw/s400/18.jpg" width="324" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Filomena Carvalho e Salomé Pinto declamando um poema&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R_N9P84LnJI/AAAAAAAAAU4/qGWJaRpj-HE/s1600-h/14.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5184625309026851986" style="CURSOR: hand" height="239" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R_N9P84LnJI/AAAAAAAAAU4/qGWJaRpj-HE/s400/14.jpg" width="304" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A inauguração dos quadros da pintora Maria da Glória, por &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;parte de Vítor Alves.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R_N91M4LnKI/AAAAAAAAAVA/6l71Jx6woBk/s1600-h/15.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5184625948976979106" style="CURSOR: hand" height="224" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R_N91M4LnKI/AAAAAAAAAVA/6l71Jx6woBk/s400/15.jpg" width="303" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A "Passarelle" dos quadros de Bruno Resende por Vítor&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Alves (à esquerda), Susana Alves (ao centro) e Salomé Pinto&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;(à direita)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R_N-Js4LnLI/AAAAAAAAAVI/EjVw_J7Ssf8/s1600-h/22.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5184626301164297394" style="WIDTH: 305px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 231px" height="222" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R_N-Js4LnLI/AAAAAAAAAVI/EjVw_J7Ssf8/s400/22.jpg" width="287" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Rosa Familiar (à Esquerda) com a Pintora Maria da Glória&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;e o seu marido.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R_N-ds4LnMI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/u5SUbM3ZDxY/s1600-h/23.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5184626644761681090" style="CURSOR: hand" height="322" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R_N-ds4LnMI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/u5SUbM3ZDxY/s400/23.jpg" width="190" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A actriz Susana Paiva declamando o&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Canto do Amigo Morto" de Al Berto&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R_N-vM4LnNI/AAAAAAAAAVY/22ZbmqrD9dg/s1600-h/24.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5184626945409391826" style="WIDTH: 195px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 348px" height="367" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R_N-vM4LnNI/AAAAAAAAAVY/22ZbmqrD9dg/s400/24.jpg" width="220" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Diogo tocando viola durante a performance&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Teatral de Vítor Alves "O Beijo"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R_N_ps4LnPI/AAAAAAAAAVo/_gerbacLKgw/s1600-h/25.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5184627950431739122" style="WIDTH: 290px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 255px" height="253" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R_N_ps4LnPI/AAAAAAAAAVo/_gerbacLKgw/s400/25.jpg" width="271" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Vítor Alves durante a sua performance da peça "O Beijo"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R_N_284LnQI/AAAAAAAAAVw/5CWtjNtbU9s/s1600-h/26.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5184628178065005826" style="WIDTH: 312px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 259px" height="250" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R_N_284LnQI/AAAAAAAAAVw/5CWtjNtbU9s/s400/26.jpg" width="276" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uma amostra do público presente no Filo-Café&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3233741416518386244-8620206061876094012?l=gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/feeds/8620206061876094012/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3233741416518386244&amp;postID=8620206061876094012' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/8620206061876094012'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/8620206061876094012'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/2008/04/o-que-foi-o-filo-caf-revolta-das.html' title='O QUE FOI O FILO-CAFÉ &quot;A REVOLTA DAS PALAVRAS&quot;'/><author><name>Zaratustra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07793740456607510269</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/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R_N5n84Lm6I/AAAAAAAAATA/im5GsS9QFG4/s72-c/01.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3233741416518386244.post-3467223462136034925</id><published>2008-02-29T10:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-27T06:46:46.073-07:00</updated><title type='text'>FILO-CAFÉ "A REVOLTA DAS PALAVRAS"</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R8hNJjWOgsI/AAAAAAAAASw/kAPDr--BGX0/s1600-h/revolta.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5172468998537642690" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R8hNJjWOgsI/AAAAAAAAASw/kAPDr--BGX0/s400/revolta.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Poesia, fotografia, pintura, expressão corporal, música e debate numa explosão de cor e sentimento. "Revolta das Palavras" é o primeiro filocafé promovido pela recém-formada associação cultural TEIA dos SENTIDOS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Terá lugar no bar "Arte7&lt;", em S. João da Madeira, no próximo dia 27 de Março, a partir das 22h. Inserido na programação "Poesia à Mesa", que uma vez mais volta às ruas de S. João da Madeira, em Março, este filocafé pretende ser um espaço de convívio e laboratório de expressões artísticas entre todos os presentes. O público será convidado a participar, constituindo um elemento fundamental na interactividade desta tertúlia.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Os sinestésicos convidam todos a comparecer no bar "Arte7&lt;", no próximo dia 27 de Março, a partir das 22h. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;A entrada é livre. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Coordenador: &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;TIAGO MOITA&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Participantes:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Alberto Augusto Miranda &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;(Porto, pensamento)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Alexandre Teixeira Mendes &lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;(Porto, pensamento)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ana Mafalda Pinto &lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;(Braga, performance)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Amílcar Mendes &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;(Penafiel, poesia)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;, &lt;/span&gt;Ângela de Almeida &lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;(Santa Maria da Feira, fotografia)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;, &lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Apolinário &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;(S. João da Madeira, música)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Bruno Resende&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;(Porto, fotografia)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Diogo &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;(S. João da Madeira, performance)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Edmundo Silva &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;(S. João da Madeira, poesia/pensamento)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Elisabete Monteiro &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;(Porto, pintura)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Emídio Aguiar &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;(S. João da Madeira, pensamento)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Fernando Veloso &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;(S. João da Madeira, pintura)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;,&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Filomena Tavares &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;(S. João da Madeira, poesia/fotografia)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Filomena Carvalho &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;(Santa Maria da Feira, poesia)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;, &lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Fábio Lopes &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;(S. João da Madeira, fotografia&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;)&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Gil Milheiro &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;(S. João da Madeira, poesia/música)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;João Rodrigues &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;(Porto, audiovisual)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Joaquim Fial &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;(S. João da Madeira, fotografia)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;, &lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Jorge Taxa &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;(Porto, pensamento)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Juliana Pinho &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;(Carregosa, poesia)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;,&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Luís de Aguiar &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;(Pinheiro da Bemposta, poesia)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Luís Lourenço &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;(Porto, poesia/pensamento)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Luís Rocha &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;(S. João da Madeira, fotografia)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Magalhães dos Santos &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;(S. João da Madeira, poesia/música)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Maria da Glória&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;( Vale de Cambra, pintura)&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Mariana &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;(S. João da Madeira, dança)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Mário Silva&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;( Oliveira de Azeméis, performance)&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Miguel Leitão &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;(Porto, poesia/pensamento)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Patrice &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;(S. João da Madeira, fotografia)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Pedro Afonso &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;(Arrifana, fotografia)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Pedro Miguel Bastos&lt;/span&gt; (Arouca, fotografia)&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;,&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Ricardo Tavares &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;(S. João da Madeira, fotografia)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Rosa Familiar&lt;/span&gt; (Santa Maria da Feira, poesia)&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;,&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Salomé Pinto &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;(S. João da Madeira, pensamento)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Samar &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;(Branca, dança)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Susana Paiva &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;(Vale de Cambra, performance)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Tiago Moita&lt;/span&gt; (S. João da Madeira, pensamento)&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Victor José&lt;/span&gt; (Vale de Cambra, poesia)&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Vítor Alves &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;(S. João da Madeira, performance).&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mais Informações, ver o site da Associação&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;: &lt;a href="http://simbiose.sitesedv.com/"&gt;http://simbiose.sitesedv.com/&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Ou para os seguintes mails:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="mailto:vledric@gmail.com"&gt;vledric@gmail.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="mailto:teiadossentidos.geral@gmail.com"&gt;teiadossentidos.geral@gmail.com&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3233741416518386244-3467223462136034925?l=gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/feeds/3467223462136034925/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3233741416518386244&amp;postID=3467223462136034925' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/3467223462136034925'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/3467223462136034925'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/2008/02/filo-caf-revolta-das-palavras.html' title='FILO-CAFÉ &quot;A REVOLTA DAS PALAVRAS&quot;'/><author><name>Zaratustra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07793740456607510269</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://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R8hNJjWOgsI/AAAAAAAAASw/kAPDr--BGX0/s72-c/revolta.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3233741416518386244.post-8047850926317937715</id><published>2008-02-29T10:09:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-29T10:14:35.773-08:00</updated><title type='text'>TEIA DOS SENTIDOS: UMA LUFADA DE AR FRESCO</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R8hK3TWOgrI/AAAAAAAAASo/3qFdpmOiZ8I/s1600-h/Logotipo+da+TDS.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5172466485981774514" style="CURSOR: hand" height="179" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R8hK3TWOgrI/AAAAAAAAASo/3qFdpmOiZ8I/s400/Logotipo+da+TDS.jpg" width="367" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Associação Cultural &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;TEIA dos SENTIDOS&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Poesia, fotografia, contos, ilustração, BD, cinema, música, pintura, escultura, artes gráficas, design, decoração, multimédia, literatura, teatro, espectáculos, exposições, workshops, festivais, encontros, intercâmbios... inúmeras áreas, saberes e actividades culturais em TEIA é a ARTE SEM LIMITES!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Da região para todo o mundo, SIMBIOSE é uma associação cultural do Entre Douro e Vouga (EDV) que não se esgota nos limites geográficos da região. Sem fronteiras físicas ou virtuais, debate-se pela promoção e divulgação dos talentos e iniciativas regionais de carácter artístico a uma escala global. TEIA é GLOCAL!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uma associação que não conhece idades, raças, etnias ou religião, em que as diferenças são tidas como factor de enriquecimento e diversidade. Uma associação que olha a ARTE como o diálogo entre o Homem e o Sonho, entre o Terreno e o Espiritual, que estabelece pontes e destrói muros.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É a VOZ da UNIVERSALIDADE e da IGUALDADE. TEIAdosSENTIDOS nasceu oficialmente a 11 de Fevereiro de 2008 e está alojada no portal do EDV Digital (&lt;a href="http://www.sitesedv.com/portal/"&gt;http://www.sitesedv.com/portal/&lt;/a&gt;), em &lt;a href="http://simbiose.sitesedv.com/" target="_blank"&gt;http://simbiose.sitesedv.com/&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Neste momento, cerca de 30 elementos compõem o elenco sinestésico. Com idades compreendidas entre os 19 e os 63 anos, a maioria é natural dos concelhos do EDV, sobretudo de S. João da Madeira.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Profissionais ou amadores, são todos amantes da Arte e nesta associação encontraram um laboratório, que lhes permitirá desenvolver os seus projectos, interagir com outros artistas e mostrar publicamente as suas obras, dentro de uma estrutura organizada.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TEIAdosSENTIDOS conta ainda com mais colaboradores, que, embora não integrando o núcleo da associação, estão dispostos a contribuir com os seus projectos.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3233741416518386244-8047850926317937715?l=gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/feeds/8047850926317937715/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3233741416518386244&amp;postID=8047850926317937715' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/8047850926317937715'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/8047850926317937715'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/2008/02/teia-dos-sentidos-uma-lufada-de-ar.html' title='TEIA DOS SENTIDOS: UMA LUFADA DE AR FRESCO'/><author><name>Zaratustra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07793740456607510269</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/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R8hK3TWOgrI/AAAAAAAAASo/3qFdpmOiZ8I/s72-c/Logotipo+da+TDS.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3233741416518386244.post-38167191042164339</id><published>2008-02-08T09:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-10T10:14:51.702-08:00</updated><title type='text'>O FILO-CAFÉ "SUICÍDIO/ALTERICÍDIO" (12/01/2008)</title><content type='html'>Foi num ambiente de fraterna partilha e efevercente actividade COOLtural que se desenrolou o Filo-Café de Sábado, dia 12 de Janeiro. O evento teve lugar no café PRINCESA, no Porto e serviu para discutir a temática de dois dos assuntos que mais afligem a humanidade (senão o universo...) e, por ironia, a humanidade procura esconder, qual avestruz a enfiar a cabeça na areia: O suícídio (a morte do "Eu") e o Altercídio (a morte do "Outro").&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Neste filo-Café, o mundo teve a ocasião de conhecer a poeta Eva Mendez Doroxo, natural de Barcelona, que aproveitou o evento para lançar o seu livro de poesia "AS SETE IDADES", trocar algumas (im)pressões e tirar uns autógrafos para os curiosos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Aqui ficam algumas fotos deste evento:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R6yWnWhlkdI/AAAAAAAAAQg/S3XURfc-dic/s1600-h/01.foto+de+anÃºncio.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164668475492635090" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R6yWnWhlkdI/AAAAAAAAAQg/S3XURfc-dic/s400/01.foto+de+an%C3%BAncio.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Foto do Anúncio do Filo-Café "SUICÍDIO/ALTERICÍDIO"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R6yW02hlkeI/AAAAAAAAAQo/IxbMv0XtpAU/s1600-h/02.JÃºlia+M.Lopoes+a+ler+um+poema+de+Eva+MÃ©ndez.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164668707420869090" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R6yW02hlkeI/AAAAAAAAAQo/IxbMv0XtpAU/s400/02.J%C3%BAlia+M.Lopoes+a+ler+um+poema+de+Eva+M%C3%A9ndez.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Júlia M.Lopes declamando um poema de Eva Méndez&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Doroxo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R6yW-WhlkfI/AAAAAAAAAQw/0UKQchOYvG8/s1600-h/03.Alberto+A.Miranda+apresentando+Eva+MÃ©ndez.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164668870629626354" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R6yW-WhlkfI/AAAAAAAAAQw/0UKQchOYvG8/s400/03.Alberto+A.Miranda+apresentando+Eva+M%C3%A9ndez.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alberto A.Miranda apresentando Eva&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Méndez Doroxo ao público&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R6yXXGhlkgI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/BIUqW0gtKKU/s1600-h/04.AmÃ&amp;shy;lcar+Mendes+lendo+um+poema.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164669295831388674" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R6yXXGhlkgI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/BIUqW0gtKKU/s400/04.Am%C3%ADlcar+Mendes+lendo+um+poema.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amílcar Mendes declamando um poema do poeta coimbrão&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;João Damalceno &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R6yXqWhlkhI/AAAAAAAAARA/lMyQ9xhLhm8/s1600-h/05.Eva+MÃ©ndez+a+autografar+um+livro+seu.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164669626543870482" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R6yXqWhlkhI/AAAAAAAAARA/lMyQ9xhLhm8/s400/05.Eva+M%C3%A9ndez+a+autografar+um+livro+seu.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A poeta Eva Méndez Doroxo dando um autógrafo a um leitor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R6yX32hlkiI/AAAAAAAAARI/uNF0E4SKP2M/s1600-h/06.Performance.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164669858472104482" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R6yX32hlkiI/AAAAAAAAARI/uNF0E4SKP2M/s400/06.Performance.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Performance plástica de um grupo poético&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;da Galiza&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R6yYH2hlkjI/AAAAAAAAARQ/FnC8026Gce4/s1600-h/07.Teixeira+Moita+debitando+a+sua+veia+musical.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164670133350011442" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R6yYH2hlkjI/AAAAAAAAARQ/FnC8026Gce4/s400/07.Teixeira+Moita+debitando+a+sua+veia+musical.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;o escritor e pintor Teixeira Moita debitando umas notas&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;na viola electro-acústica de Tiago Moita&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R6yYUGhlkkI/AAAAAAAAARY/URXIt9bWO18/s1600-h/08.Tiago+Moita+exprimindo+uma+opiniÃ£o+sobre+o+tema.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164670343803408962" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R6yYUGhlkkI/AAAAAAAAARY/URXIt9bWO18/s400/08.Tiago+Moita+exprimindo+uma+opini%C3%A3o+sobre+o+tema.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O escritor e poeta sanjoanense Tiago Moita (ao fundo)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Exprimindo uma opinião sobre o tema do filo-café.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R6yYrmhlklI/AAAAAAAAARg/aQg4ocMbb8E/s1600-h/09.+A+performance+dos+fios.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164670747530334802" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R6yYrmhlklI/AAAAAAAAARg/aQg4ocMbb8E/s400/09.+A+performance+dos+fios.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A performance dos fios de lã&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R6yY6WhlkmI/AAAAAAAAARo/FskJka7t4Nk/s1600-h/10.AmÃ&amp;shy;lcar+Mendes+declamando+MÃ¡rio+de+SÃ¡-Carneiro..jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164671000933405282" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R6yY6WhlkmI/AAAAAAAAARo/FskJka7t4Nk/s400/10.Am%C3%ADlcar+Mendes+declamando+M%C3%A1rio+de+S%C3%A1-Carneiro..jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amílcar Mendes declamando Mário de Sá-Carneiro&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R6yZJ2hlknI/AAAAAAAAARw/2_N_rZ6bYvU/s1600-h/14.A+participante+Adriana+Silva.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164671267221377650" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R6yZJ2hlknI/AAAAAAAAARw/2_N_rZ6bYvU/s400/14.A+participante+Adriana+Silva.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adriana Henriques durante a sua performance&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R6yZYmhlkoI/AAAAAAAAAR4/H6JNqdhDMlk/s1600-h/15.Concha+Roussia+e+AntÃ³nio+Pedro+Ribeiro.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164671520624448130" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R6yZYmhlkoI/AAAAAAAAAR4/H6JNqdhDMlk/s400/15.Concha+Roussia+e+Ant%C3%B3nio+Pedro+Ribeiro.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Concha Roussia e o poeta António Pedro Ribeiro, autor do &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;célebre poema "estou apaixonado pelo primeiro-ministro"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R6yZnGhlkpI/AAAAAAAAASA/VuCpO2SYjdk/s1600-h/16.Salviano+Ferreira.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164671769732551314" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R6yZnGhlkpI/AAAAAAAAASA/VuCpO2SYjdk/s400/16.Salviano+Ferreira.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;O poeta Salviano Pinto (José Efe)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R6yZ0GhlkqI/AAAAAAAAASI/RJEwkhBdHD4/s1600-h/17.Eva+MÃ©ndez+entre+amigos.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164671993070850722" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R6yZ0GhlkqI/AAAAAAAAASI/RJEwkhBdHD4/s400/17.Eva+M%C3%A9ndez+entre+amigos.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Eva Méndez Doroxo entre amigos&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R6yaMmhlkrI/AAAAAAAAASQ/SuS_bVZdG0o/s1600-h/18.Eva+MÃ©ndez+e+Elisabete+Monteiro.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164672413977645746" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R6yaMmhlkrI/AAAAAAAAASQ/SuS_bVZdG0o/s400/18.Eva+M%C3%A9ndez+e+Elisabete+Monteiro.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;(Fotos de Nelson silva)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Eva Méndez Doroxo e Elisabete Monteiro.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;Um poema de Eva Méndez Doroxo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;Sigo morta e aínda non morrín&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;non fun nacida&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;ardo como unha vela no fondo dun&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;caixón,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;esquecida.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;pero a forza que me impulsa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;queima a madeira deixando meus&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;cabelos de vella tras o lume.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;e así poder existir no mundo dos &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;imaxinables&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Atu &lt;/strong&gt;in &lt;/em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;As sete idades (incomunidade, 2007)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3233741416518386244-38167191042164339?l=gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/feeds/38167191042164339/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3233741416518386244&amp;postID=38167191042164339' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/38167191042164339'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/38167191042164339'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/2008/02/o-filo-caf-suicdioaltericdio-12012008.html' title='O FILO-CAFÉ &quot;SUICÍDIO/ALTERICÍDIO&quot; (12/01/2008)'/><author><name>Zaratustra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07793740456607510269</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://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R6yWnWhlkdI/AAAAAAAAAQg/S3XURfc-dic/s72-c/01.foto+de+an%C3%BAncio.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3233741416518386244.post-1607527995655670390</id><published>2008-01-13T04:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-13T04:50:49.005-08:00</updated><title type='text'>POEMA DE TEIXEIRA MOITA PARA O FILO-CAFÉ "SUICÍDIO/ALTERICÍDIO"</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;“quebra de nascimento”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;O objectivo é este objecto: Suicídio.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;O Suicídio é uma maneira de fazer parar os anos;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;uma autodeterminação que força os lástimos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;a rasparem uns nos outros&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;a sua culpa e as suas desculpas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;O vivo é;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;o morto está.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Morrer assim,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;ou tímida ou exuberantemente,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;recusando a tômbola,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;decidindo, por a tal sentir-se obrigado,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;afagar o útero da Morte,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;sobrecarrega aqueles sobrevivos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;com o mesmo apetite&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;O suicida é (foi) aquele&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;que quis chamar os surdos à sua volta&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;partindo caules de folha de plátano&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;(O suicídio floresce mais no Outono)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;O suicídio floresce mais no Outono&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;porque o Outono é belo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;e sendo bela a estação&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;todo o suicida quer matar a falta de Beleza&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;de tudo o que o antecedeu,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;escrevendo como que&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;uma tanatografia de todos os cronómetros&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;que a ele deram corda&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;encolhendo o limite do abismo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;O suicida só fala no fim&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;mas é fim de parágrafo,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;um ponto que pinga&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;para uma reticência&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Ele é somente quando queria deixar de o ser&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;e, desfazendo a sequência,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;quebrou o nascimento.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Teixeira Moita&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;Filo-Café "Suicídio/Altericídio"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;Porto, Café Princesa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;12 de Janeiro de 2008, 21H00&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3233741416518386244-1607527995655670390?l=gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/feeds/1607527995655670390/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3233741416518386244&amp;postID=1607527995655670390' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/1607527995655670390'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/1607527995655670390'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/2008/01/poema-de-teixeira-moita-para-o-filo-caf.html' title='POEMA DE TEIXEIRA MOITA PARA O FILO-CAFÉ &quot;SUICÍDIO/ALTERICÍDIO&quot;'/><author><name>Zaratustra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07793740456607510269</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-3233741416518386244.post-8023388900187151350</id><published>2008-01-10T05:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-10T05:38:49.623-08:00</updated><title type='text'>FILO-CAFÉ: SUICÍDIO / ALTERECÍDIO</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R4YYxKiL4xI/AAAAAAAAAQQ/Otbwt02HpAw/s1600-h/f_filofilom_64d9351.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5153834056492507922" style="WIDTH: 458px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" height="121" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R4YYxKiL4xI/AAAAAAAAAQQ/Otbwt02HpAw/s400/f_filofilom_64d9351.jpg" width="458" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Inscrições (gratuitas) Abertas: &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;áreas: Pensamento, Pequenas-Comunicações, Dança. Poesia, Design, Musica, Performance, Sociologia, Antropologia, Psiquiatria, Artesanato, Filosofia, Teatro, Semiótica, Pintura, Fotografia, Curta-Metragem, Escultura, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Filo-Café&lt;/strong&gt;: &lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Suicídio/Altericício&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;12 Janeiro 2008, 21h&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Café Princesa&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Rua Silva Tapada, 134&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Porto&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Roxeamos as congas das articulações pouco articuladas. É nesse não-andamento que se sustém a paródia existente. Quantum satis la verve de expelição? A_cordamos em 2008 com esgares, não acabamos de nascer. O sombreio toma conta das palavras, elas próprias sombras do dizível. Que fazer nas ponderosas dificuldades de adormecer e acordar? Os rumos, bússolas de erramento, somegam a fauna entre sua savana, a memória esquecida. Alguém pode/consegue suicidar-se? Ou tratar-se-á de um altericídio que, em consciência de tribu corporal, pode sintomatizar um genocídio? Anda, meu existente, deita abaixo as memórias que te trituram, não respondas, um sendeiro invisível te espera, sui-nada, nada é sui. Lamentamos. Com muita Lama.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Arquê:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FedraEmpédocles (sec.V aC)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Artémise Ire (sec.V aC)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Antonio e Cleópatra (30 aC)Esporo (sec I)Eleanora Marx (1898)&lt;br /&gt;Santos Dumont (1932)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inscrições Abertas:&lt;br /&gt;Para a sua inscrição indique nome, lugar de proveniência e área de intervenção, através de &lt;a href="mailto:incomunidade@gmail.com"&gt;incomunidade@gmail.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mais info: 00351.965817337&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Inscritos:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Augusto Canetas&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; (&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;famalicão&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;cantautor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;), &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Concha Rousia&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; (&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;compostela&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;, &lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;poesia&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;), &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;André Domingues&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; (&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;porto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;texto/pensamento&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;), &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Carla Mota&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; (&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;sta mª da feira&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;artesanato&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;), &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Vitor Rua&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; (&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;lisboa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;, &lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;música&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;), &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Paula Garcez&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; (&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;porto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;, &lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;artes visuais&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;), &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Teixeira Moita&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; (&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;braga&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;música&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;), &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sónia Ramos&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; (&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;porto&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;performance&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;), &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;João Vilas Maia&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; (&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;porto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;texto/pensamento&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;), &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Adriana Henriques&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; (&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;salamonde&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;, &lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;artes visuais&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;), &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Jorge Barreto&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; (&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;porto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;design&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;), &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Deborah Nofret&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; (&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;ponferrada&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;fotografia&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;), &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sérgio Judite&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; (&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;malawi&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;,&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt; música&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;), &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ana Luisa Sampaio&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; (&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;fafe&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;, &lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;artes visuais&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;), &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Amilcar Mendes&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; (&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;valbom&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;performance&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;), &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Nelson Silva&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; (&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;porto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;, &lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;fotografia&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;), &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Jorge Gaspar&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; (&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;amarante&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;pensamento&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;), &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Filipe Pinto&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; (&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;felgueiras&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;texto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;), &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Elizabete Monteiro&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; (&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;boticas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;, &lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;pintura&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;), &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Hugo Nascimento Veloso&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; (&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;porto&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;texto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;), &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;António Pedro&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; (&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;gaia&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;,&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt; teatro&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;), &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Antonio Rivas&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; (&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;compostela&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;musica&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;), &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Lois Gil Magariños&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; (&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;rois&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;,&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;performance&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;), &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Begoña Miguéns&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;(&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;rois&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;animação&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;), &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Luis Serguilha&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; (&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;famalicão&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;, &lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;poesia&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;), &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Alexandra Bernardo&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; (&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;carcavelos&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;interpretação&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;), &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Alexandre Teixeira Mendes&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; (&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;porto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;, &lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;comunicação&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;), &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Vicente Pereira&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; (&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;porto&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;pensamento&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;), &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;António Pedro Ribeiro&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; (&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;braga&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;poesia&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;), &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Carlos de la Torre&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; (&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;ponferrada&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;música&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;), &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Isabel Ribeiro&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; (&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;porto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;imagem&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;),&lt;strong&gt; &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Luz Gomes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; (&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;porto&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;poesia&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;), &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Jorge Taxa&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; (&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;porto&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;pensamento&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;), &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Fernando Soares&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; (&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;penafiel&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;poesia&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;), &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Carlos Marques&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; (&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;vila do conde&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;música&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;), &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tiago Moita&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; (&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;s.joao da madeira&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;, &lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;texto&lt;/span&gt;), &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Carlos Andrade&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; (&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;porto&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;cantautor&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;), &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ramón Cruces&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; (&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;compostela&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;semiótica&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;), &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Pedro Lamas&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; (&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;compostela&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;artes&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;), &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Pedro RioBom&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; (&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;sta mª feira&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;, &lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;artesanato&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;), &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Rui Gabriel&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; (&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;vieira do minho&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;farmácia&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Apresentação do livro &lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt;Sete Idades&lt;/span&gt; de &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Eva Méndez&lt;/span&gt; Doroxo com a presença da autora&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R4YeyKiL4yI/AAAAAAAAAQY/pfC62XrkLto/s1600-h/f_capaevam_c32391b.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5153840670742143778" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R4YeyKiL4yI/AAAAAAAAAQY/pfC62XrkLto/s400/f_capaevam_c32391b.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apresentação feita por&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt; &lt;strong&gt;Chacal&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3233741416518386244-8023388900187151350?l=gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/feeds/8023388900187151350/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3233741416518386244&amp;postID=8023388900187151350' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/8023388900187151350'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/8023388900187151350'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/2008/01/filo-caf-suicdio-alterecdio.html' title='FILO-CAFÉ: SUICÍDIO / ALTERECÍDIO'/><author><name>Zaratustra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07793740456607510269</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/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R4YYxKiL4xI/AAAAAAAAAQQ/Otbwt02HpAw/s72-c/f_filofilom_64d9351.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3233741416518386244.post-7348655179956800641</id><published>2008-01-03T07:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-03T08:52:17.993-08:00</updated><title type='text'>UM OLHAR NO PASSADO: A PRIMEIRA SESSÃO DE APRESENTAÇÃO DO PRIMEIRO LIVRO-ENIGMA DO MUNDO "ECOS MUDOS" (SÁBADO, 22/04/2006)</title><content type='html'>Na rubrica de nostalgia da "Garganta...", recordamos hoje a apresentação do primeiro livro-Enigma do mundo, "&lt;em&gt;Ecos Mudos&lt;/em&gt;" de Tiago Moita (Ver nos posts mais antigos), efectuada no dia 22 de Abril de 2006, no auditório do Café-Concerto da FNAC do Gaia Shopping. Num evento promovido pela Papiro Editora - Editora responsável pela edição, distribuição e promoção da obra, onde ocorreram mais de cinquenta pessoas de várias regiões do país e alguns orgãos de comunicação social locais. O autor teve a oportunidade de poder explicar o contéudo e essência da sua fábula poética e partilhar um pouco da sua experiência pessoal enquanto escritor e poeta. &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A Apresentação Inicial da Sessão foi levada a cabo por Filipa Aranda, Escritora e grande amiga do autor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aqui ficam algumas das fotos do evento &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R30BT6iL4mI/AAAAAAAAAO4/kmkWpsqZhB8/s1600-h/01.Liliana+Pereira+fazendo+o+discurso+de+ApresentaÃ§Ã£o.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5151274990423499362" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R30BT6iL4mI/AAAAAAAAAO4/kmkWpsqZhB8/s400/01.Liliana+Pereira+fazendo+o+discurso+de+Apresenta%C3%A7%C3%A3o.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Liliana Roma Pereira, responsável pela revisão e coordena&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;ção editorial da Papiro Editora, dando início à Sessão de &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;apresentação&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R30BrKiL4nI/AAAAAAAAAPA/axfF_kVJeZw/s1600-h/06.Filipa+Aranda+discursando+sobre+o+autor.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5151275389855457906" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R30BrKiL4nI/AAAAAAAAAPA/axfF_kVJeZw/s400/06.Filipa+Aranda+discursando+sobre+o+autor.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Filipa Aranda comentando a obra "&lt;em&gt;Ecos Mudos"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R30BzqiL4oI/AAAAAAAAAPI/6LeKwv8wM8I/s1600-h/12.Tiago+Moita+discursando+sobre+a+sua+obra.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5151275535884345986" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R30BzqiL4oI/AAAAAAAAAPI/6LeKwv8wM8I/s400/12.Tiago+Moita+discursando+sobre+a+sua+obra.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O autor, Tiago de Vasconcelos e Moita&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;discursando sobre a sua obra&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R30CN6iL4pI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/eYYs9rGJQMY/s1600-h/13.Uma+panorÃ¢mica+da+plateia+que+assistiu+ao+evento.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5151275986855912082" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R30CN6iL4pI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/eYYs9rGJQMY/s400/13.Uma+panor%C3%A2mica+da+plateia+que+assistiu+ao+evento.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Um pormenor sobre o público que assistiu à sessão&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R30C6aiL4qI/AAAAAAAAAPY/kI__wd4h4C8/s1600-h/02.Tiago+Moita+dando+um+autÃ³grafo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5151276751360090786" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R30C6aiL4qI/AAAAAAAAAPY/kI__wd4h4C8/s400/02.Tiago+Moita+dando+um+aut%C3%B3grafo.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tiago Moita autografando um dos exemplares&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;da sua obra.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R30DZqiL4rI/AAAAAAAAAPg/HuglzLFXRcA/s1600-h/03.Tiago+Moita+dando+um+autÃ³grafo+ao+livro+da+sua+amiga+Filipa+Aranda.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5151277288231002802" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R30DZqiL4rI/AAAAAAAAAPg/HuglzLFXRcA/s400/03.Tiago+Moita+dando+um+aut%C3%B3grafo+ao+livro+da+sua+amiga+Filipa+Aranda.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tiago Moita autografando um exemplar para a sua amiga&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;escritora, Filipa Aranda&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R30EDKiL4sI/AAAAAAAAAPo/5zyj1l5jFME/s1600-h/13.Tiago+Moita+aquando+da+celebraÃ§Ã£o+de+autÃ³grafos+ao+seu+livro.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5151278001195573954" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R30EDKiL4sI/AAAAAAAAAPo/5zyj1l5jFME/s400/13.Tiago+Moita+aquando+da+celebra%C3%A7%C3%A3o+de+aut%C3%B3grafos+ao+seu+livro.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tiago Moita autografando um exemplar a um dos especta&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;dores da sessão&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R30Eg6iL4tI/AAAAAAAAAPw/pz1qcz9SIVo/s1600-h/05.Tiago+moita+dando+um+autÃ³grafo+ao+livro+do+Dr.MagalhÃ£es+Santos.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5151278512296682194" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R30Eg6iL4tI/AAAAAAAAAPw/pz1qcz9SIVo/s400/05.Tiago+moita+dando+um+aut%C3%B3grafo+ao+livro+do+Dr.Magalh%C3%A3es+Santos.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Alguns dos espectadores da sessão a aguardar por um autó&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;grafo do autor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R30E-KiL4uI/AAAAAAAAAP4/h94vkiY_OSA/s1600-h/10.Tiago+Moita+acabando+de+dar+um+autÃ³grafo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5151279014807855842" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R30E-KiL4uI/AAAAAAAAAP4/h94vkiY_OSA/s400/10.Tiago+Moita+acabando+de+dar+um+aut%C3%B3grafo.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tiago Moita completando um autógrafo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R30Fx6iL4vI/AAAAAAAAAQA/6YwR9CnAG7I/s1600-h/14.Tiago+Moita+entre+a+Liliana+Pereira+e+o+dr.Costa+da+Papiro+Editora.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5151279903866086130" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R30Fx6iL4vI/AAAAAAAAAQA/6YwR9CnAG7I/s400/14.Tiago+Moita+entre+a+Liliana+Pereira+e+o+dr.Costa+da+Papiro+Editora.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tiago Moita com Liliana Roma Pereira e o Dr. Costa, da &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Papiro Editora&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R30GFqiL4wI/AAAAAAAAAQI/0YAl7_M84SU/s1600-h/01.O+seu+primeiro+livro.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5151280243168502530" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R30GFqiL4wI/AAAAAAAAAQI/0YAl7_M84SU/s400/01.O+seu+primeiro+livro.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alguns exemplares da obra à venda &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;na FNAC do Gaia Shopping, no momento&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;da Sessão de Apresentação da obra.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;ECOS MUDOS TOUR 2006&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Gaia ( FNAC Gaia Shopping), &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Sábado, 22 de Abril de 2006, 16H00&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;Apresentação: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Filipa Aranda&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Porto (Unicepe), &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Quarta-Feira, 7 de Junho de 2006, 18H30&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;Apresentação: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Luís LLorenti&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;S. João da Madeira (Biblioteca Municipal), &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Sexta-Feira, 20 de Outubro &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;de 2006, 21H30&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Apresentação&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;: &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Luís Lourenço&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Porto (Clube Literário do Porto), &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Sábado, 11 de Novembro de 2006, 21H30&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;Apresentação: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Alexandre Teixeira Mendes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt;Mais informações sobre o livro:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Papiro Editora&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Rua das Oliveirinhas, 62&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;4000 - 367 Porto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Telefone: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;220 109 120&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Fax: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;220 160 193&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;e-mail: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;a href="mailto:info@papiroeditora.com"&gt;info@papiroeditora.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Buk Editora&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Telefone: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;220 103 900&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/3233741416518386244-7348655179956800641?l=gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/feeds/7348655179956800641/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3233741416518386244&amp;postID=7348655179956800641' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/7348655179956800641'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/7348655179956800641'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/2008/01/um-olhar-no-passado-primeira-sesso-de.html' title='UM OLHAR NO PASSADO: A PRIMEIRA SESSÃO DE APRESENTAÇÃO DO PRIMEIRO LIVRO-ENIGMA DO MUNDO &quot;ECOS MUDOS&quot; (SÁBADO, 22/04/2006)'/><author><name>Zaratustra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07793740456607510269</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/_ax5j0jpLtHg/R30BT6iL4mI/AAAAAAAAAO4/kmkWpsqZhB8/s72-c/01.Liliana+Pereira+fazendo+o+discurso+de+Apresenta%C3%A7%C3%A3o.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3233741416518386244.post-8097877214978251800</id><published>2007-11-09T09:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-09T09:52:18.289-08:00</updated><title type='text'>RICHARD ZIMLER EM S.JOÃO DA MADEIRA</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/RzScDFeZZoI/AAAAAAAAAOo/pcWzDmtZWsQ/s1600-h/setima_porta.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130897452305049218" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/RzScDFeZZoI/AAAAAAAAAOo/pcWzDmtZWsQ/s400/setima_porta.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;S. João da Madeira volta a estar no mapa das grandes digressões mundiais de grandes escritores. Hoje, será a vez da estreia de RICHARD ZIMLER - escritor norte-americano, naturalizado português, em terras sanjoanenses.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Esta sua vinda encontra-se inserida numa digressão que o autor está a efectuar por todo o país, com vista a promover a sua mais recente obra, A SÉTIMA PORTA.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A sessão de apresentação decorrerá hoje, sexta-feira, dia 9 de Novembro, a partir das 21H45 na LIVRARIA ENTRELINHAS (R. João de Deus, 167) em S. JOÃO DA MADEIRA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3233741416518386244-8097877214978251800?l=gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/feeds/8097877214978251800/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3233741416518386244&amp;postID=8097877214978251800' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/8097877214978251800'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/8097877214978251800'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/2007/11/richard-zimler-em-sjoo-da-madeira.html' title='RICHARD ZIMLER EM S.JOÃO DA MADEIRA'/><author><name>Zaratustra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07793740456607510269</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/_ax5j0jpLtHg/RzScDFeZZoI/AAAAAAAAAOo/pcWzDmtZWsQ/s72-c/setima_porta.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3233741416518386244.post-8377419905075504280</id><published>2007-10-12T10:02:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-01-03T08:56:23.001-08:00</updated><title type='text'>UM OLHAR NO PASSADO: O FILO-CAFÉ DE S. JOÃO DA MADEIRA</title><content type='html'>Na mui famosa rubrica de regresso ao passado deste (nada) famoso blog, debruçamos-nos sobre o Filo-Café "POESIA E MULHERES, TODOS AOS SEUS TALHERES" - O primeiro Filo-Café realizado em S. João da Madeira, a 16 de Março de 2006, sexta-feira, pelas 22H30.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aqui ficam algumas fotos do evento...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rw-ozC5mrBI/AAAAAAAAAMA/GInLL07xdeg/s1600-h/00.Antes+do+evento.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5120496896248818706" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rw-ozC5mrBI/AAAAAAAAAMA/GInLL07xdeg/s400/00.Antes+do+evento.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Antes do Evento, uma amena cavaqueira...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rw-pIS5mrCI/AAAAAAAAAMI/n2nuGBWErXk/s1600-h/01.O+InÃ&amp;shy;cio.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5120497261321038882" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rw-pIS5mrCI/AAAAAAAAAMI/n2nuGBWErXk/s400/01.O+In%C3%ADcio.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alberto Augusto Miranda dando início ao Filo-Café&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rw-pei5mrDI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/dEYl4s-b8Vs/s1600-h/03.Alexandre+Teixeira+Mendes+intervindo.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5120497643573128242" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rw-pei5mrDI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/dEYl4s-b8Vs/s400/03.Alexandre+Teixeira+Mendes+intervindo.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alexandre Teixeira Mendes intervindo com uma pequena&lt;br /&gt;explanação sobre o tema do Filo-Café&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rw-x8y5mrVI/AAAAAAAAAOg/ecZrcmH8kuQ/s1600-h/04.Jorge+Neves+intervindo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5120506959357193554" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rw-x8y5mrVI/AAAAAAAAAOg/ecZrcmH8kuQ/s400/04.Jorge+Neves+intervindo.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jorge Neves intervindo no Filo-Café&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rw-qIy5mrFI/AAAAAAAAAMg/8ipE8FseB4M/s1600-h/06.Jorge+Velhote+intervindo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5120498369422601298" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rw-qIy5mrFI/AAAAAAAAAMg/8ipE8FseB4M/s400/06.Jorge+Velhote+intervindo.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jorge Velhote intervindo no Filo-Café&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rw-qji5mrGI/AAAAAAAAAMo/pN4EZEn5KBw/s1600-h/07.Teixeira+Moita.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5120498828984101986" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rw-qji5mrGI/AAAAAAAAAMo/pN4EZEn5KBw/s400/07.Teixeira+Moita.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Teixeira Moita (Live at Filo-Café de S. João&lt;br /&gt;da Madeira)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rw-qyC5mrHI/AAAAAAAAAMw/k980jeRIirk/s1600-h/08.Alexandre+Terixeira+Mendes,+Salviano+e+Jorge+Neves+entre+amigos.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5120499078092205170" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rw-qyC5mrHI/AAAAAAAAAMw/k980jeRIirk/s400/08.Alexandre+Terixeira+Mendes,+Salviano+e+Jorge+Neves+entre+amigos.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alexandre Teixeira Mendes, Salviano Pinto (José Efe),&lt;br /&gt;Jorge Neves entre amigos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rw-q8y5mrII/AAAAAAAAAM4/VAfBXBEECYY/s1600-h/09.Uma+sanjoanense+intervindo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5120499262775798914" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rw-q8y5mrII/AAAAAAAAAM4/VAfBXBEECYY/s400/09.Uma+sanjoanense+intervindo.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uma sanjoanense intervindo no Filo-Café&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rw-r9S5mrJI/AAAAAAAAANA/Tq5HG1TLwHE/s1600-h/13.Filipa+Aranda+durante+a+sua+performance+IV.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5120500370877361298" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rw-r9S5mrJI/AAAAAAAAANA/Tq5HG1TLwHE/s400/13.Filipa+Aranda+durante+a+sua+performance+IV.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Filipa Aranda dando inicio à sua performance&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rw-sdS5mrKI/AAAAAAAAANI/-79-8Bj556o/s1600-h/20.Tiago+Moita+exprimindo+a+sua+opiniÃ£o+sobre+a+performance+da+Filipa+Aranda.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5120500920633175202" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rw-sdS5mrKI/AAAAAAAAANI/-79-8Bj556o/s400/20.Tiago+Moita+exprimindo+a+sua+opini%C3%A3o+sobre+a+performance+da+Filipa+Aranda.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tiago Moita exprimindo a sua opinião sobre a performance&lt;br /&gt;de Filipa Aranda&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rw-s3C5mrLI/AAAAAAAAANQ/i7N1p61JA18/s1600-h/21.Jorge+Neves+exprimindo+sua+opiniÃ£o+sobre+a+performance+da+Filipa+Aranda.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5120501363014806706" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rw-s3C5mrLI/AAAAAAAAANQ/i7N1p61JA18/s400/21.Jorge+Neves+exprimindo+sua+opini%C3%A3o+sobre+a+performance+da+Filipa+Aranda.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jorge Neves exprimindo a sua opinião sobre a performance&lt;br /&gt;de Filipa Aranda&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rw-tZy5mrMI/AAAAAAAAANY/CChaIXIm25g/s1600-h/24.SÃ³nia+Alves+dando+inÃ&amp;shy;cio+Ã"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5120501960015260866" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rw-tZy5mrMI/AAAAAAAAANY/CChaIXIm25g/s400/24.S%C3%B3nia+Alves+dando+in%C3%ADcio+%C3%A0+sua+performance.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sónia Alves dando declamando um poema no Filo-Café&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rw-tqi5mrNI/AAAAAAAAANg/Fq7HAk6EutE/s1600-h/27.Raquel+Lopes+interivindo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5120502247778069714" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rw-tqi5mrNI/AAAAAAAAANg/Fq7HAk6EutE/s400/27.Raquel+Lopes+interivindo.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Raquel Estrada intervindo no Filo-Café&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rw-uCi5mrOI/AAAAAAAAANo/Gc8UhwMnlY8/s1600-h/28.Daniela.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5120502660094930146" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rw-uCi5mrOI/AAAAAAAAANo/Gc8UhwMnlY8/s400/28.Daniela.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Daniela&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rw-uWC5mrPI/AAAAAAAAANw/k566l5taSEg/s1600-h/29.Maria+JoÃ£o+Mira.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5120502995102379250" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rw-uWC5mrPI/AAAAAAAAANw/k566l5taSEg/s400/29.Maria+Jo%C3%A3o+Mira.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maria João Mira&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rw-uoi5mrQI/AAAAAAAAAN4/Du3GHKEJQTs/s1600-h/30.ManuelGuimaraes.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5120503312929959170" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rw-uoi5mrQI/AAAAAAAAAN4/Du3GHKEJQTs/s400/30.ManuelGuimaraes.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Manuel Guimarães (Um pianista excepcional)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rw-vXS5mrRI/AAAAAAAAAOA/ntAfZO8yptU/s1600-h/34.AmÃ&amp;shy;car+Mendes+e+a+estÃ³ria+da+nÃªspera.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5120504116088843538" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rw-vXS5mrRI/AAAAAAAAAOA/ntAfZO8yptU/s400/34.Am%C3%ADcar+Mendes+e+a+est%C3%B3ria+da+n%C3%AAspera.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amílcar Mendes e a estória da Nêspera (Mário Henrique&lt;br /&gt;Leiria)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rw-vwi5mrSI/AAAAAAAAAOI/VfhF-foxa_c/s1600-h/35.Tiago+Moita+e+Jorge+Velhote.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5120504549880540450" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rw-vwi5mrSI/AAAAAAAAAOI/VfhF-foxa_c/s400/35.Tiago+Moita+e+Jorge+Velhote.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jorge Velhote declamando "Poesia de Pantagruel"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rw-wPS5mrTI/AAAAAAAAAOQ/KxMKNOtZ6R0/s1600-h/38.Tiago+Moita+durante+a+sua+declamaÃ§Ã£o+III.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5120505078161517874" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rw-wPS5mrTI/AAAAAAAAAOQ/KxMKNOtZ6R0/s400/38.Tiago+Moita+durante+a+sua+declama%C3%A7%C3%A3o+III.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tiago Moita declamando o poema "A PELE DOS POEMAS"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rw-wsi5mrUI/AAAAAAAAAOY/FoY2MzJX4rE/s1600-h/44.Alexandra+Bernardo+(En-cantando)+parte+IV.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5120505580672691522" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rw-wsi5mrUI/AAAAAAAAAOY/FoY2MzJX4rE/s400/44.Alexandra+Bernardo+(En-cantando)+parte+IV.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alexandra Bernardo (en)-cantando um poema de António&lt;br /&gt;Ramos Rosa (acompanhada ao piano por Alberto Augusto&lt;br /&gt;Miranda)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3233741416518386244-8377419905075504280?l=gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/feeds/8377419905075504280/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3233741416518386244&amp;postID=8377419905075504280' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/8377419905075504280'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/8377419905075504280'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/2007/10/um-olhar-no-passado-o-filo-caf-de-s-joo.html' title='UM OLHAR NO PASSADO: O FILO-CAFÉ DE S. JOÃO DA MADEIRA'/><author><name>Zaratustra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07793740456607510269</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/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rw-ozC5mrBI/AAAAAAAAAMA/GInLL07xdeg/s72-c/00.Antes+do+evento.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3233741416518386244.post-972072094638977492</id><published>2007-10-11T05:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-11T05:59:55.409-07:00</updated><title type='text'>ARTE EM MOVIMENTO (ARAHNA LENA)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rw4dci5mq6I/AAAAAAAAAK8/AUCGp-ybwQw/s1600-h/Arahna+Lena.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5120062202608790434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rw4dci5mq6I/AAAAAAAAAK8/AUCGp-ybwQw/s400/Arahna+Lena.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5120062314277940146" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rw4djC5mq7I/AAAAAAAAALE/3xCV8CgX88Q/s400/Arahna+Lena+II.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;                                  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;                                  &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;ARAHNA LENA &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3233741416518386244-972072094638977492?l=gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/feeds/972072094638977492/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3233741416518386244&amp;postID=972072094638977492' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/972072094638977492'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/972072094638977492'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/2007/10/arte-em-movimento-arahna-lena.html' title='ARTE EM MOVIMENTO (ARAHNA LENA)'/><author><name>Zaratustra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07793740456607510269</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://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rw4dci5mq6I/AAAAAAAAAK8/AUCGp-ybwQw/s72-c/Arahna+Lena.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3233741416518386244.post-5260116989846533305</id><published>2007-10-11T05:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-11T05:51:05.928-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Port Folios (GEORGE PICHL)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rw4bFC5mq5I/AAAAAAAAAK0/GzTg5LsRRD4/s1600-h/e8bfa90719504a3d8a3223f9d7ed15cc.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5120059599858609042" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="342" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rw4bFC5mq5I/AAAAAAAAAK0/GzTg5LsRRD4/s400/e8bfa90719504a3d8a3223f9d7ed15cc.jpg" width="400" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; UMA PEDRA É UMA PEDRA. DUAS PEDRAS, TRÊS&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;                                  &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;GEORGE PICHL&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3233741416518386244-5260116989846533305?l=gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/feeds/5260116989846533305/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3233741416518386244&amp;postID=5260116989846533305' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/5260116989846533305'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/5260116989846533305'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/2007/10/port-folios-george-pichl.html' title='Port Folios (GEORGE PICHL)'/><author><name>Zaratustra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07793740456607510269</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://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rw4bFC5mq5I/AAAAAAAAAK0/GzTg5LsRRD4/s72-c/e8bfa90719504a3d8a3223f9d7ed15cc.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3233741416518386244.post-2202992399012749126</id><published>2007-10-10T06:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-10T08:00:20.659-07:00</updated><title type='text'>UM OLHAR NO PASSADO: O FILO-CAFÉ DE BRAGA (15-01-2005)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nesta rubrica de regresso ao passado, relembro o magnífico (sem exageros...) Filo-Café de Braga, no Insólito Bar, a 15 de Janeiro de 2005, Sábado à noite. Guardo dele as melhores recordações e as melhores impressões (digitais), também porque foi o primeiro que assisti na vida e onde conheci dezenas de pessoas ligadas às artes de muitas partes do mundo.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;O Filo-Café teve como tema TEATRO: AUTOR E PERSONAGEM, e debruçou-se, como o próprio título explica sobre temáticas em volta do mundo do teatro.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ficam as fotos do evento, como testemunho das impressões retiradas desse fabuloso evento:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/RwzZhC5mqjI/AAAAAAAAAIE/9Zsoe6uj21w/s1600-h/01.JosÃ©+Marques(Cedeu+sua+mÃ¡quina+digital).jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119706038150801970" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/RwzZhC5mqjI/AAAAAAAAAIE/9Zsoe6uj21w/s400/01.Jos%C3%A9+Marques(Cedeu+sua+m%C3%A1quina+digital).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;José Marques (Que cedeu gentilmente a Máquina Digital)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/RwzZqC5mqkI/AAAAAAAAAIM/GHV60k_k5Ow/s1600-h/02.+A.A.Miranda,+LuÃ&amp;shy;sa+Mota.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119706192769624642" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/RwzZqC5mqkI/AAAAAAAAAIM/GHV60k_k5Ow/s400/02.+A.A.Miranda,+Lu%C3%ADsa+Mota.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Alberto Augusto Miranda e Luísa Mota&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/RwzZyS5mqlI/AAAAAAAAAIU/lTLE2MNZhIc/s1600-h/03.Alberto+Peixoto(InterpretaÃ§Ã£o+4,33+de+John+Cage).jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119706334503545426" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/RwzZyS5mqlI/AAAAAAAAAIU/lTLE2MNZhIc/s400/03.Alberto+Peixoto(Interpreta%C3%A7%C3%A3o+4,33+de+John+Cage).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Alberto Peixoto (interpretando "4,33" de John Cage)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/RwzZ4S5mqmI/AAAAAAAAAIc/ctEHSeh6T9E/s1600-h/04.Teixeira+Moita(MC-Mestre+de+CerimÃ³nias).jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119706437582760546" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/RwzZ4S5mqmI/AAAAAAAAAIc/ctEHSeh6T9E/s400/04.Teixeira+Moita(MC-Mestre+de+Cerim%C3%B3nias).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;José Carlos Teixeira Moita (MC - Mestre de Cerimónias)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/RwzaAC5mqnI/AAAAAAAAAIk/evwYzxmFue4/s1600-h/05.William+GaviÃ£o(Lendo+um+poema,teatro+de+Teixeira+Moita).jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119706570726746738" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/RwzaAC5mqnI/AAAAAAAAAIk/evwYzxmFue4/s400/05.William+Gavi%C3%A3o(Lendo+um+poema,teatro+de+Teixeira+Moita).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Wiliam Galvão (Declamando um poema de&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;José Carlos Teixeira Moita)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/RwzaLi5mqoI/AAAAAAAAAIs/9KIdfHQwa7c/s1600-h/06.Jorge+LouraÃ§o(Com+a+sua+caixa+MÃ¡gica).jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119706768295242370" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/RwzaLi5mqoI/AAAAAAAAAIs/9KIdfHQwa7c/s400/06.Jorge+Loura%C3%A7o(Com+a+sua+caixa+M%C3%A1gica).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Jorge Louraço (E a sua caixa mágica)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/RwzaXS5mqpI/AAAAAAAAAI0/vK4BCeVOi-c/s1600-h/07.Jorge+LouraÃ§o+&amp;amp;+Teixeira+Moita+(Localidades+com+o+nome+NazarÃ©).jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119706970158705298" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/RwzaXS5mqpI/AAAAAAAAAI0/vK4BCeVOi-c/s400/07.Jorge+Loura%C3%A7o+%26+Teixeira+Moita+(Localidades+com+o+nome+Nazar%C3%A9).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Jorge Louraço e Teixeira Moita (Localidades com o nome&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Nazaré")&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rwzahy5mqqI/AAAAAAAAAI8/lt_HS__TolI/s1600-h/08.A.Pedro+Ribeiro,A.A.Miranda(IndescritÃ&amp;shy;veis).jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119707150547331746" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rwzahy5mqqI/AAAAAAAAAI8/lt_HS__TolI/s400/08.A.Pedro+Ribeiro,A.A.Miranda(Indescrit%C3%ADveis).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;António Pedro Ribeiro, Alberto Augusto Miranda e o&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Vicente (indescritíveis)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/RwzawC5mqrI/AAAAAAAAAJE/Y2QenPw79gc/s1600-h/09.Alberto+Augusto+Miranda(OtÃ&amp;shy;lia+e+Carlos+Marnoto[2.Âº+plano+Esquerdo).jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119707395360467634" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/RwzawC5mqrI/AAAAAAAAAJE/Y2QenPw79gc/s400/09.Alberto+Augusto+Miranda(Ot%C3%ADlia+e+Carlos+Marnoto%5B2.%C2%BA+plano+Esquerdo).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Alberto Augusto Miranda (Otília e Carlos Marnoto, no 2.º &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Plano Esquerdo)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rwza_S5mqsI/AAAAAAAAAJM/PFPP9ulpznw/s1600-h/10.JosÃ©+Miguel+Braga(Dando+a+deixa+para+a+apariÃ§Ã£o+de+Merlin).jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119707657353472706" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rwza_S5mqsI/AAAAAAAAAJM/PFPP9ulpznw/s400/10.Jos%C3%A9+Miguel+Braga(Dando+a+deixa+para+a+apari%C3%A7%C3%A3o+de+Merlin).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;José Miguel Braga - Professor Universitário de Artes Dramáticas&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;na Universidade do Minho (Dando a deixa para a aparição de Merlin)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/RwzbNi5mqtI/AAAAAAAAAJU/Tayr8P-HPsU/s1600-h/12.Camilo+Silva(Ei-lo+Merlin+das+brumas+do+brumÃ¡rio).jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119707902166608594" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/RwzbNi5mqtI/AAAAAAAAAJU/Tayr8P-HPsU/s400/12.Camilo+Silva(Ei-lo+Merlin+das+brumas+do+brum%C3%A1rio).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Camilo Silva - Professor Universitário de&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Artes Dramáticas da Universidade do Minho&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;(Ei-lo Merlin das Brumas do Brumário)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/RwzbaC5mquI/AAAAAAAAAJc/T1-XV3IRUBo/s1600-h/13.Alberto+A.Miranda(Em+contacto+com+Antonin+Artaud).jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119708116914973410" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/RwzbaC5mquI/AAAAAAAAAJc/T1-XV3IRUBo/s400/13.Alberto+A.Miranda(Em+contacto+com+Antonin+Artaud).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Alberto Augusto Miranda (Em contacto com Antonin Artaud)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rwzb1C5mqvI/AAAAAAAAAJk/hLS3rj7E2_Y/s1600-h/14.Tiago+Vasconcellos+Moita+(Declamando+um+poema+da+sua+autoria).jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119708580771441394" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rwzb1C5mqvI/AAAAAAAAAJk/hLS3rj7E2_Y/s400/14.Tiago+Vasconcellos+Moita+(Declamando+um+poema+da+sua+autoria).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tiago de Vasconcelos e Moita declamando o poema "O AUTOR"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/RwzcEC5mqwI/AAAAAAAAAJs/r6wN35N3tBo/s1600-h/16.Isabel+Fernandes+Pinto(Contando+a+EstÃ³ria+do+Elefante).jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119708838469479170" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/RwzcEC5mqwI/AAAAAAAAAJs/r6wN35N3tBo/s400/16.Isabel+Fernandes+Pinto(Contando+a+Est%C3%B3ria+do+Elefante).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A actriz Isabel Fernandes Pinto (Contando&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;a Estória do Elefante)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/RwzciC5mqxI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/4qxI_fITw90/s1600-h/17.A.A.Miranda,JosÃ©+Vicente,A.Cubales,+Deborah+Nofret,Aurelino+Costa).jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119709353865554706" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/RwzciC5mqxI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/4qxI_fITw90/s400/17.A.A.Miranda,Jos%C3%A9+Vicente,A.Cubales,+Deborah+Nofret,Aurelino+Costa).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Da esquerda para a direita:&lt;/em&gt; Alberto Augusto Miranda; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Vicente; António Cubales; Deborah Nofret e&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Aurelino Costa&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rwzcuy5mqyI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/Pjv4qQLDRYY/s1600-h/18.Tiago+V.Moita,+Rui+ApolinÃ¡rio(O+autor+destas+fotos).jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119709572908886818" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rwzcuy5mqyI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/Pjv4qQLDRYY/s400/18.Tiago+V.Moita,+Rui+Apolin%C3%A1rio(O+autor+destas+fotos).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tiago de Vasconcelos e Moita com Rui Apolinário (O autor &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;destas fotos)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/RwzdYi5mqzI/AAAAAAAAAKE/RND98x0lSJ4/s1600-h/19.AntÃ³nio+Pedro+Ribeiro(Meditando+sobre+a+Liberdade).jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119710290168425266" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/RwzdYi5mqzI/AAAAAAAAAKE/RND98x0lSJ4/s400/19.Ant%C3%B3nio+Pedro+Ribeiro(Meditando+sobre+a+Liberdade).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;António Pedro Ribeiro (Meditando sobre a liberdade)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rwzd3S5mq0I/AAAAAAAAAKM/3nB4Et8ntvw/s1600-h/20.Alexandra+Bernardo(En-cantando).jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119710818449402690" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rwzd3S5mq0I/AAAAAAAAAKM/3nB4Et8ntvw/s400/20.Alexandra+Bernardo(En-cantando).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Alexandra Bernardo (En-cantando)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/RwzeTy5mq1I/AAAAAAAAAKU/EZD9QVhzIdg/s1600-h/21.A.A.Miranda(Dominando+o+piano).jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119711308075674450" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/RwzeTy5mq1I/AAAAAAAAAKU/EZD9QVhzIdg/s400/21.A.A.Miranda(Dominando+o+piano).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Alberto Augusto Miranda (Dominando o piano)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rwzeny5mq2I/AAAAAAAAAKc/0WsTv7EpjfI/s1600-h/23.A.A.Miranda+&amp;amp;+Aurelino+Costa+(preparando+o+momento).jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119711651673058146" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rwzeny5mq2I/AAAAAAAAAKc/0WsTv7EpjfI/s400/23.A.A.Miranda+%26+Aurelino+Costa+(preparando+o+momento).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Alberto Augusto Miranda e Aurelino Costa (preparando o&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;momento)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rwze3i5mq3I/AAAAAAAAAKk/pUYvOfX6Ewg/s1600-h/24.Aurelino+Costa(Declamando+RÃ©gio+Regimento).jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119711922255997810" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rwze3i5mq3I/AAAAAAAAAKk/pUYvOfX6Ewg/s400/24.Aurelino+Costa(Declamando+R%C3%A9gio+Regimento).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Aurelino Costa (Declamando Régio Regimento) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/RwzfHi5mq4I/AAAAAAAAAKs/h-pWkbYDca8/s1600-h/25.Aurelino+Costa(Truca-truca-truca-truca...).jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119712197133904770" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/RwzfHi5mq4I/AAAAAAAAAKs/h-pWkbYDca8/s400/25.Aurelino+Costa(Truca-truca-truca-truca...).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Aurelino Costa (Truca-truca-truca-truca...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3233741416518386244-2202992399012749126?l=gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/feeds/2202992399012749126/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3233741416518386244&amp;postID=2202992399012749126' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/2202992399012749126'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/2202992399012749126'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/2007/10/um-olhar-no-passado-o-filo-caf-de-braga.html' title='UM OLHAR NO PASSADO: O FILO-CAFÉ DE BRAGA (15-01-2005)'/><author><name>Zaratustra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07793740456607510269</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://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/RwzZhC5mqjI/AAAAAAAAAIE/9Zsoe6uj21w/s72-c/01.Jos%C3%A9+Marques(Cedeu+sua+m%C3%A1quina+digital).jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3233741416518386244.post-5623900210037245053</id><published>2007-10-09T13:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-09T13:39:22.825-07:00</updated><title type='text'>LEMBRAR EUGÉNIO DE ANDRADE</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/RwvhYC5mqUI/AAAAAAAAAGM/PDlVcbfah-k/s1600-h/eugenio1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119433204648290626" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/RwvhYC5mqUI/AAAAAAAAAGM/PDlVcbfah-k/s400/eugenio1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Passamos pelas coisas sem as ver,&lt;br /&gt;gastos,&lt;br /&gt;como animais envelhecidos:&lt;br /&gt;se alguém chama por nós não respondemos,&lt;br /&gt;se alguém nos pede amor não estremecemos,&lt;br /&gt;como frutos de sombra sem sabor,&lt;br /&gt;vamos caindo ao chão, apodrecidos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É urgente o amor.&lt;br /&gt;É urgente um barco no mar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É urgente destruir certas palavras,&lt;br /&gt;ódio, solidão e crueldade,&lt;br /&gt;alguns lamentos,&lt;br /&gt;muitas espadas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É urgente inventar alegria,&lt;br /&gt;multiplicar os beijos, as searas,&lt;br /&gt;é urgente descobrir rosas e rios&lt;br /&gt;e manhãs claras.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cai o silêncio nos ombros e a luz&lt;br /&gt;impura, até doer.&lt;br /&gt;É urgente o amor, é urgente&lt;br /&gt;permanecer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Entre os teus lábios&lt;br /&gt;é que a loucura acode,&lt;br /&gt;desce à garganta,&lt;br /&gt;invade a água.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No teu peito&lt;br /&gt;é que o pólen do fogo&lt;br /&gt;se junta à nascente,&lt;br /&gt;alastra na sombra.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nos teus flancos&lt;br /&gt;é que a fonte começa&lt;br /&gt;a ser rio de abelhas,&lt;br /&gt;rumor de tigre.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Da cintura aos joelhos&lt;br /&gt;é que a areia queima,&lt;br /&gt;sol é secreto,&lt;br /&gt;cego o silêncio.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Deita-te comigo.&lt;br /&gt;Ilumina meus vidros.&lt;br /&gt;Entre lábios e lábios&lt;br /&gt;toda a música é minha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Diz homem,&lt;br /&gt;diz criança,&lt;br /&gt;diz estrela.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Repete as sílabas&lt;br /&gt;onde a luz é feliz e se demora.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Volta a dizer: homem, mulher, criança.&lt;br /&gt;Onde a beleza é mais nova.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É na escura folhagem do sono&lt;br /&gt;que brilha&lt;br /&gt;a pele molhada,&lt;br /&gt;a difícil floração da língua.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Música, levai-me:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Onde estão as barcas?&lt;br /&gt;Onde são as ilhas?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Procura a maravilha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Onde um beijo sabe&lt;br /&gt;a barcos e bruma.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No brilho redondo&lt;br /&gt;e jovem dos joelhos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Na noite inclinada&lt;br /&gt;de melancolia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Procura.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Procura a maravilha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A boca,&lt;br /&gt;onde o fogo&lt;br /&gt;de um verão&lt;br /&gt;muito antigo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cintila,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a boca espera&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(que pode uma boca&lt;br /&gt;esperar&lt;br /&gt;senão outra boca?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;espera o ardor&lt;br /&gt;do vento&lt;br /&gt;para ser ave,&lt;br /&gt;e cantar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Levar-te à boca,&lt;br /&gt;beber a água&lt;br /&gt;mais funda do teu ser&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;se a luz é tanta,como se pode morrer?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sê tu a palavra&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.Sê tu a palavra,&lt;br /&gt;branca rosa brava.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.Só o desejo é matinal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.Poupar o coração&lt;br /&gt;é permitir à morte&lt;br /&gt;coroar-se de alegria.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.Morre&lt;br /&gt;de ter ousado&lt;br /&gt;a água amar o fogo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.Beber-te a sede e partir&lt;br /&gt;– eu sou de tão longe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6.Da chama à espada&lt;br /&gt;o caminho é solitário.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7.Que me quereis,&lt;br /&gt;se me não dais&lt;br /&gt;o que é tão meu?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Colhe todo o oiro&lt;br /&gt;Colhe&lt;br /&gt;todo o oiro do diana haste mais alta&lt;br /&gt;da melancolia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ainda sabemos cantar,&lt;br /&gt;só a nossa voz é que mudou:&lt;br /&gt;somos agora mais lentos,&lt;br /&gt;mais amargos,&lt;br /&gt;e um novo gesto é igual ao que passou.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um verso já não é a maravilha,&lt;br /&gt;um corpo já não é a plenitude.&lt;br /&gt;Nunca o verão se demorara&lt;br /&gt;assim nos lábios&lt;br /&gt;e na água&lt;br /&gt;- como podíamos morrer,&lt;br /&gt;tão próximos&lt;br /&gt;e nus e inocentes?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Devias estar aqui rente aos meus lábios&lt;br /&gt;para dividir contigo esta amargurados meus dias partidos um a um&lt;br /&gt;- Eu vi a terra limpa no teu rosto,&lt;br /&gt;Só no teu rosto e nunca em mais nenhum&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De palavra em palavra&lt;br /&gt;a noite sobe&lt;br /&gt;aos ramos mais altos&lt;br /&gt;e canta&lt;br /&gt;o êxtase do dia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Foi para ti que criei as rosas.&lt;br /&gt;Foi para ti que lhes dei perfume.&lt;br /&gt;Para ti rasguei ribeiros&lt;br /&gt;e dei ás romãs a cor do lume.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Húmido de beijos e de lágrimas,&lt;br /&gt;ardor da terra com sabor a mar,&lt;br /&gt;o teu corpo perdia-se no meu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Vontade de ser barco ou de cantar.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sê paciente;&lt;br /&gt;espera&lt;br /&gt;que a palavra amadureça&lt;br /&gt;e se desprenda como um fruto&lt;br /&gt;ao passar o vento que a mereça.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hoje roubei todas as rosas dos jardins&lt;br /&gt;e cheguei ao pé de ti de mãos vazias.&lt;br /&gt;À breve,&lt;br /&gt;azul cantilena&lt;br /&gt;dos teus olhos quando anoitecem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eram de longe.&lt;br /&gt;Do mar traziam&lt;br /&gt;o que é do mar:&lt;br /&gt;doçura&lt;br /&gt;e ardor nos olhos fatigados.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A raiz do linho&lt;br /&gt;foi meu alimento,&lt;br /&gt;foi o meu tormento.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas então cantava.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Às vezes tu dizias:&lt;br /&gt;os teus olhos são peixes verdes!&lt;br /&gt;E eu acreditava.&lt;br /&gt;&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;&lt;br /&gt;Era no tempo em que o teu corpo era um aquário.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Era no tempo em que os meus olhos&lt;br /&gt;eram os tais peixes verdes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hoje são apenas os meus olhos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É pouco,&lt;br /&gt;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;&lt;br /&gt;Quando agora digo:&lt;br /&gt; meu amor...,&lt;br /&gt;já não se passa absolutamente nada.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E no entanto,&lt;br /&gt; antes das palavras gastas,&lt;br /&gt;tenho a certeza&lt;br /&gt;de 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;&lt;br /&gt;O passado é inútil como um trapo.&lt;br /&gt;&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;Eugénio de andrade (1923 - 2005)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3233741416518386244-5623900210037245053?l=gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/feeds/5623900210037245053/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3233741416518386244&amp;postID=5623900210037245053' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/5623900210037245053'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/5623900210037245053'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/2007/10/lembrar-eugnio-de-andrade.html' title='LEMBRAR EUGÉNIO DE ANDRADE'/><author><name>Zaratustra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07793740456607510269</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/_ax5j0jpLtHg/RwvhYC5mqUI/AAAAAAAAAGM/PDlVcbfah-k/s72-c/eugenio1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3233741416518386244.post-887420129458916265</id><published>2007-09-05T04:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-05T04:56:17.488-07:00</updated><title type='text'>UM OLHAR NO PASSADO: O FILO-CAFÉ BRUNO E BURMA</title><content type='html'>Realizado a 1 de Julho de 2006, o Filo-Café "&lt;em&gt;Bruno e Bruma&lt;/em&gt;", no Clube Literário do Porto, foi um dos Filo-Cafés mais concorridos e participados de sempre! Esse Filo-Café foi realizado de modo a homenagear a vida e obra do célebre filósofo e jornalista portuense Sampaio Bruno. &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ficam aqui algumas fotos desse evento:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rt6UoqIpE8I/AAAAAAAAAFU/cZ1YwbqTxzE/s1600-h/inc-aliados.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5106682453710934978" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rt6UoqIpE8I/AAAAAAAAAFU/cZ1YwbqTxzE/s400/inc-aliados.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Numa amena tertúlia na Avenida dos Aliados - Porto&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rt6V6qIpE9I/AAAAAAAAAFc/C9njIUYYEkQ/s1600-h/O+pÃºblico.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5106683862460208082" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rt6V6qIpE9I/AAAAAAAAAFc/C9njIUYYEkQ/s400/O+p%C3%BAblico.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O público que assistiu ao Filo-Café "BRUNO E BRUMA"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rt6WFqIpE-I/AAAAAAAAAFk/5GuOpdOpcnk/s1600-h/filo-deb044.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5106684051438769122" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rt6WFqIpE-I/AAAAAAAAAFk/5GuOpdOpcnk/s400/filo-deb044.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A irmã de Alberto Augusto Miranda entre os presentes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rt6WP6IpE_I/AAAAAAAAAFs/FG5d1YGWUO8/s1600-h/performance-filo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5106684227532428274" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rt6WP6IpE_I/AAAAAAAAAFs/FG5d1YGWUO8/s400/performance-filo.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A performance da Filipa Aranda&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rt6Wd6IpFAI/AAAAAAAAAF0/jq0537VBu5I/s1600-h/Cruz+Martinez.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5106684468050596866" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rt6Wd6IpFAI/AAAAAAAAAF0/jq0537VBu5I/s400/Cruz+Martinez.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A declamação poética de Cruz Martinez &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rt6W8qIpFBI/AAAAAAAAAF8/0dTewH0AuIo/s1600-h/rosanegra.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5106684996331574290" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rt6W8qIpFBI/AAAAAAAAAF8/0dTewH0AuIo/s400/rosanegra.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A declamação Poética de Rosanegra&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rt6XPaIpFCI/AAAAAAAAAGE/8V_CrrBaPOQ/s1600-h/FiloCafeSampaioBruno.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5106685318454121506" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rt6XPaIpFCI/AAAAAAAAAGE/8V_CrrBaPOQ/s400/FiloCafeSampaioBruno.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tiago Moita declamando o Poema "O Fogo dos Homens"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;No Filo-Café "Bruno e Bruma"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3233741416518386244-887420129458916265?l=gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/feeds/887420129458916265/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3233741416518386244&amp;postID=887420129458916265' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/887420129458916265'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/887420129458916265'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/2007/09/um-olhar-no-passado-o-filo-caf-bruno-e.html' title='UM OLHAR NO PASSADO: O FILO-CAFÉ BRUNO E BURMA'/><author><name>Zaratustra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07793740456607510269</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/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rt6UoqIpE8I/AAAAAAAAAFU/cZ1YwbqTxzE/s72-c/inc-aliados.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3233741416518386244.post-656900570626538954</id><published>2007-05-11T11:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-11T11:42:06.388-07:00</updated><title type='text'>ARTE EM MOVIMENTO (FERNANDO VELOSO)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/RkS40uYnXcI/AAAAAAAAAFM/bb6ihtxAcPw/s1600-h/veloso.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5063375097015262658" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/RkS40uYnXcI/AAAAAAAAAFM/bb6ihtxAcPw/s400/veloso.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;FERNANDO VELOSO&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3233741416518386244-656900570626538954?l=gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/feeds/656900570626538954/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3233741416518386244&amp;postID=656900570626538954' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/656900570626538954'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/656900570626538954'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/2007/05/arte-em-movimento-fernando-veloso.html' title='ARTE EM MOVIMENTO (FERNANDO VELOSO)'/><author><name>Zaratustra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07793740456607510269</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/_ax5j0jpLtHg/RkS40uYnXcI/AAAAAAAAAFM/bb6ihtxAcPw/s72-c/veloso.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3233741416518386244.post-871148307449907665</id><published>2007-05-11T11:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-11T11:38:16.712-07:00</updated><title type='text'>PORT-FOLIOS (PETER BERGHMAN)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/RkS2_eYnXaI/AAAAAAAAAE8/deMwHjhNE6Y/s1600-h/487981389_c0c30aef49_o.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5063373082675600802" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/RkS2_eYnXaI/AAAAAAAAAE8/deMwHjhNE6Y/s400/487981389_c0c30aef49_o.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Peter Berghman&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3233741416518386244-871148307449907665?l=gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/feeds/871148307449907665/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3233741416518386244&amp;postID=871148307449907665' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/871148307449907665'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/871148307449907665'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/2007/05/port-folios-peter-berghman.html' title='PORT-FOLIOS (PETER BERGHMAN)'/><author><name>Zaratustra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07793740456607510269</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://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/RkS2_eYnXaI/AAAAAAAAAE8/deMwHjhNE6Y/s72-c/487981389_c0c30aef49_o.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3233741416518386244.post-6074104363729457047</id><published>2007-05-11T09:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-11T09:44:21.223-07:00</updated><title type='text'>MÃO MORTA APRESENTAM "CANTOS DE MALDOROR"</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/RkSb8OYnXZI/AAAAAAAAAE0/Ax_zB3jQo_g/s1600-h/maldororcartaz.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5063343340027075986" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/RkSb8OYnXZI/AAAAAAAAAE0/Ax_zB3jQo_g/s400/maldororcartaz.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/RkSb0uYnXYI/AAAAAAAAAEs/m9UOexONBFg/s1600-h/entrada1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5063343211178057090" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/RkSb0uYnXYI/AAAAAAAAAEs/m9UOexONBFg/s400/entrada1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;OS CANTOS DE MALDOROR – O LIVRO&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Na Paris sitiada de 1870 e em vésperas do levantamento da Comuna morre aos 24 anos o desconhecido Isidore Ducasse. No entanto este misterioso “homem de letras” deixava atrás de si um formidável empreendimento de demolição de que o romantismo envelhecido e o Segundo Império à beira do desastre não seriam as únicas vítimas. Os seus “Os Cantos de Maldoror”, impressos no ano anterior sob o pseudónimo de O Conde de Lautréamont, não poupam nenhuma autoridade nem nenhum dogma.&lt;br /&gt;Sob a aparência de um herói do Mal, negativo dos heróis românticos então em voga, Maldoror é a personagem central da narrativa estruturada em Cantos à maneira das epopeias clássicas. Mas Maldoror é muito mais que um herói do Mal, é sobretudo um combatente da liberdade que nos revela as consequências de uma dupla alienação: enquanto a interiorização dos interditos morais e religiosos nos confisca os desejos, as marcas de uma linguagem imobilizada contrariam-nos a livre expressão.&lt;br /&gt;Se a primeira alienação ganha denúncia no combate encarniçado de Maldoror contra o Criador e a religião e na natureza obsessivamente erótica dos seus crimes, relembrando a animalidade e a agressividade que a Igreja associa à sexualidade, já a segunda é exposta pela recorrência a artifícios literários, da interpelação do leitor à confusão entre narrador e personagem, da ausência de linearidade narrativa à constante sobreposição de formas literárias, como se ao combate encarniçado contra o Criador correspondesse estranhamente uma luta da escrita contra uma censura latente. Apesar disso, o texto não perde balanço, antes, como uma espiral ou um turbilhão, ganha um movimento rodopiante, de reposição e de renovação, de repetição e de modulação, com novos enredos sempre a arrancarem para logo abortarem, com constantes intromissões e divagações a impedirem a narração de avançar, não abordando novos relatos senão para voltar a tropeçar no mesmo episódio indizível, deixando entrever o que se segue para melhor o ocultar, tal um segredo que se quer contar mas não se consegue, criando assim uma tensão que vai alimentar toda a obra, que dá a impressão de gravitar à volta de um centro sempre fugidio.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;MALDOROR – O ESPECTÁCULO&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A partir de “Os Cantos de Maldoror”, a obra-prima literária que Isidore Ducasse, sob o pseudónimo de Conde de Lautréamont, deu à estampa nos finais do séc. XIX, os Mão Morta, com os dedos de alguns cúmplices, estruturaram um espectáculo singular onde a música brinca com o teatro, o vídeo e a declamação.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aí se sucedem as vozes do herói Maldoror e do narrador Lautréamont, algumas imagens privilegiadas das muitas que povoam o livro, sem necessidade de um epílogo ou de uma linearidade narrativa, ao ritmo da fantasia infantil – o palco é o quarto de brinquedos, o espaço onde a criança brinca, onde cria e encarna personagens e histórias dando livre curso à imaginação.·Em similitude com a técnica narrativa presente nos Cantos, a criança mistura em si as vozes de autor, narrador e personagem, criando, interpretando e fazendo interpretar aos brinquedos/artefactos que manipula as visões e as histórias retiradas das páginas de Isidore Ducasse, dando-lhes tridimensionalidade e visibilidade plástica. O espectáculo é constituído pelo conjunto desses quadros/excertos, que se sucedem como canções mas encadeados uns nos outros, recorrendo à manipulação vídeo e à representação.·Como um mergulho no mundo terrível de Maldoror, povoado de caudas de peixe voadoras, de polvos alados, de homens com cabeça de pelicano, de cisnes carregando bigornas, de acoplamentos horrorosos, de naufrágios, de violações, de combates sem tréguas… Sai-se deste mundo por uma intervenção exterior, como quem acorda no meio de um pesadelo, como a criança que é chamada para o jantar a meio da brincadeira – sem epílogo, sem conclusão, sem continuação!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Texto Original&lt;/strong&gt;: Isidore Ducasse dito Conde de Lautréamont;Selecção, Versão Portuguesa e &lt;strong&gt;Adaptação&lt;/strong&gt;: Adolfo Luxúria Canibal;Música: Miguel Pedro, Vasco Vaz, António Rafael e Mão Morta;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Encenação&lt;/strong&gt;: António Durães;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Cenografia&lt;/strong&gt;: Pedro Tudela;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Figurinos&lt;/strong&gt;: Cláudia Ribeiro;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Vídeo&lt;/strong&gt;: Nuno Tudela;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Desenho de Luz&lt;/strong&gt;: Manuel Antunes;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Interpretação&lt;/strong&gt;: Mão Morta (Adolfo Luxúria Canibal – voz / Miguel Pedro – electrónica e bateria / António Rafael – teclados e guitarra / Sapo – guitarra / Vasco Vaz – guitarra e teclados / Joana Longobardi – baixo e contrabaixo);&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Produção&lt;/strong&gt;: Theatro Circo e Imetua – Cooperativa Cultural&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;ESTREIA NO THEATRO CIRCO, em Braga, A 11 E 12 DE MAIO DE 2007·&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Outras apresentações&lt;/strong&gt;:PORTALEGRE, Centro de Artes do Espectáculo, a 19 de Maio.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3233741416518386244-6074104363729457047?l=gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/feeds/6074104363729457047/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3233741416518386244&amp;postID=6074104363729457047' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/6074104363729457047'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/6074104363729457047'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/2007/05/mo-morta-apresentam-cantos-de-maldoror.html' title='MÃO MORTA APRESENTAM &quot;CANTOS DE MALDOROR&quot;'/><author><name>Zaratustra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07793740456607510269</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/_ax5j0jpLtHg/RkSb8OYnXZI/AAAAAAAAAE0/Ax_zB3jQo_g/s72-c/maldororcartaz.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3233741416518386244.post-4741983199406573924</id><published>2007-05-05T05:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-07T06:09:02.248-07:00</updated><title type='text'>ECOS MUDOS: O PRIMEIRO LIVRO-ENIGMA DO MUNDO</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rjx10eYnXVI/AAAAAAAAAEU/F3sVXjf1qoY/s1600-h/CapaEcosMudos.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5061049625627549010" style="CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rjx10eYnXVI/AAAAAAAAAEU/F3sVXjf1qoY/s400/CapaEcosMudos.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;“ECOS MUDOS” &lt;/i&gt;é uma fábula poética que conta a história de um poeta, de uma grande cidade dos nossos dias, que se apaixona por uma mulher que tenta convencê-lo a abandonar a sua vida de tristeza e solidão e da sua viagem até ao Inferno aonde acaba por encontrar os seus fantasmas e as suas memórias mais obscuras. Uma viagem à volta da fragilidade humana em oito capítulos cheios de mistério e emoção e um enigma misterioso, sobre um dos assuntos deste livro, expresso em código”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;A PARÁBOLA DA CONDIÇÃO HUMANA&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;Segundo o autor da obra &lt;em&gt;"ECOS MUDOS" é uma fábula poética contemporânea que revela um ensaio geral sobre a condição humana, enriquecido com linguagem poética e referências religiosas, psicanalíticas e mitológicas, aonde a fragilidade do ser humano é o mote para a reflexão acerca deste tema tão complexo e, ao mesmo tempo, apaixonante.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;Partindo da estória que está presente no poema que dá título ao livro, Tiago Moita começou a explorar os meandros da fragilidade humana, servindo-se dos seus conhecimentos filosóficos e de psicologia, assim como relatos de experiências sobre os mais diversos estados de alma que recebeu através de conversas quotidianas que escutou durante a sua vida, tanto de amigos como de conhecidos. Estados de alma esses que, segundo o autor, &lt;em&gt;funcionam como ecos apenas sentidos pelo indivíduo e mudos perante uma sociedade cada vez mais preocupada com o seu próprio umbigo do que com o seu semelhante. &lt;/em&gt;Daí o nome do seu livro.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;Percorrendo cada capítulo da sua obra, o leitor deixa de ser um mero espectador da estória que consubstancia o seu enredo e começará a se sentir como um reflexo de um espelho - objecto frequentemente referenciado neste livro, sobre a essência que identifica a sua própria existência. Cada pausa, linha, lágrima ou beijo retratado nos poemas e textos de "&lt;em&gt;ECOS MUDOS"&lt;/em&gt; são um encadeamento de sentimentos que reflectem o ser humano enquanto um ser vivo em busca da razão da sua própria existência e do seu papel &lt;em&gt;neste fardo de remendos a que chamam vida&lt;/em&gt;, como desabafa a personagem principal num dos poemas da obra de Tiago Moita.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;"ECOS MUDOS" &lt;/em&gt;ao retratar de forma tão crua e profunda a fragilidade humana acaba por fazer também o retrato da própria humanidade. Um retrato de uma espécie que nasceu com a capacidade de escolher o seu próprio caminho e com uma mensagem de esperança, baseada no facto de que nesta vida tudo é sempre possível corrigir esse caminho e que a qualquer momento pode reparar os erros que comete, revelando em cada lição de vida uma luz dentro da sua alma que o faz sentir como parte muito especial num universo em constante mutação e essência que dá sentido ao seu nome. &lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;COMO FUNCIONA O ENIGMA DO LIVRO?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rj8ZHOYnXWI/AAAAAAAAAEc/7qxnZt_9Mcs/s1600-h/02.O+Livro+ECOS+MUDOS+por+dentro.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5061792118098845026" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rj8ZHOYnXWI/AAAAAAAAAEc/7qxnZt_9Mcs/s400/02.O+Livro+ECOS+MUDOS+por+dentro.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt;“ECOS MUDOS” é um livro diferente de todos os outros livros alguma vez criados pelo facto de ser o primeiro livro Enigma do Mundo. Um livro Enigma é um livro interactivo aonde o autor do livro convida o leitor a participar num jogo que consiste na resolução de uma charada situada na terceira folha do livro. A palavra que dá resposta a essa charada tem as suas letras espalhadas e misturadas com outras letras do alfabeto latino, impressas pelas folhas de texto sob a forma de marcas d’água.&lt;?xml:namespace prefix = o /&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="color:black;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt;Para se chegar às letras o leitor terá que prestar muita atenção às folhas de texto do livro: existem nessas folhas um conjunto de caracteres (Números, símbolos, setas e caracteres) que puderam dar pistas para o leitor encontrar em cada folha de texto, dois códigos fundamentais: um, dirá ao leitor qual a letra certa, e o outro, qual a ordem certa da letra na construção da palavra que dá resposta ao enigma do livro, que versa sobre um dos seus temas.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;O AUTOR:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rj8Z2OYnXXI/AAAAAAAAAEk/_4gLCh02U24/s1600-h/04.Tiago+Moita+(Camisa+Castanha+IV).JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5061792925552696690" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rj8Z2OYnXXI/AAAAAAAAAEk/_4gLCh02U24/s400/04.Tiago+Moita+(Camisa+Castanha+IV).JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Filho de um economista e de uma funcionária pública, Tiago de Vasconcelos e Moita nasceu a 15 de Abril de 1975, na Freguesia de Santa Justa em Lisboa - Cidade aonde viveu os primeiros anos da sua vida até aos dez anos de idade, altura em que migrou para S. João da Madeira, terra dos seus avós paternos.&lt;br /&gt;Nessa Cidade, concluiu a quarta classe na escola Salazar em 1986; Fez o Ensino Preparatório na Escola Preparatória de S. João da Madeira em 1988 e terminou o ensino secundário no externato D. Dinis, na área de Humanísticas. Durante esse período, começou a escrever os seus primeiros poemas e praticou natação na AEJ (Associação Estamos Juntos).&lt;br /&gt;Em Outubro de 1995, ingressou no Ensino Superior do Porto, mais propriamente na Universidade Lusíada do Porto, aonde frequentou o curso de Direito até 2001. Na Universidade, foi colunista permanente do primeiro jornal da Associação Académica da Universidade Lusíada do Porto nos anos 1997, 1998 e 2000, assim como foi membro do E.L.S.A (European Law Students Association) entre 1998 e 2001.&lt;br /&gt;Após a sua saída na Universidade, trabalhou numa campanha autárquica em 2001; trabalhou como secretário administrativo numa importante empresa do sector têxtil da sua região em 2002; tirou cursos profissionais entre 2003 e 2005 e participou em alguns eventos culturais tanto a nível nacional como internacional entre 2004 e 2006.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;A CAMINHO DE UM SONHO&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apesar de ter começado a escrever os seus poemas a partir dos quinze anos de idade, numa altura em que não possuía grandes conhecimentos de poesia, para além dos escritores e poetas que aprendeu na escola secundária como Almeida Garrett, Alexandre Herculano e Bocage - poeta que, na altura, muito admirava, Tiago Moita só começou a escrever os seus primeiros poemas e textos em prosa com vinte anos de idade. Tudo graças ao empréstimo de um livro de poemas de Jim Morrison intitulado &lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;"Abismos"&lt;/span&gt; por parte de um primo seu que, segundo o escritor, mudou radicalmente a sua vida.&lt;br /&gt;Durante o tempo em que esteve na Universidade Lusíada do Porto leu, para além de livros sobre a sua área, livros de escritores e poetas portugueses como Fernando Pessoa, Natália Correia, José Régio, José Saramago e António Lobo Antunes, e estrangeiros como Allen Ginsberg, Jack Kerouak, William S. Burroughs, Pablo Neruda, Bertold Brecht, Artur Rimbaud, Edgar Allan Poe, William Blake, Franz Kafka, Stephen King, Umberto Eco e Steven Saylor. De acordo com o escritor, foram escritos durante o seus seis anos de Faculdade mais de cem poemas e textos em prosa, tendo um desses poemas sido publicado no jornal da Associação Académica da sua Universidade em Outubro de 1998.&lt;br /&gt;A partir de 2003, começou a a interessar-se mais por poesia portuguesa contemporânea, a partir da leitura de livros de poetas portugueses como Al Berto, Sophia de Mello Breyner Anderson, Sara Costa, José Luís Peixoto, Mário de Sá Carneiro, António Franco Alexandre, António Ramos Rosa, Herberto Hélder e Luiza Neto Jorge, bem como estrangeiros como Lautréamont e Rilke.&lt;br /&gt;Em 2004 participou numa declamação teatral dum excerto dum texto do livro "&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;Quanto Durou Jacques"&lt;/span&gt; do escritor Sanjoanense Teixeira Moita, seu tio, durante a apresentação do seu livro na Biblioteca Municipal de S. João da Madeira; Declamou o seu primeiro poema ao vivo no espaço cultural da Associação &lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;Ecos Urbanos&lt;/span&gt;, no espectáculo de encerramento da Workshop de Poesia "&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;A Orquestra das Palavras"&lt;/span&gt;; Declamou dois dos seus poemas no auditório da Junta de Freguesia de Pindelo, Concelho de Oliveira de Azeméis, durante a realização do terceiro Encontro Nacional de Poetas Portugueses e publicou um dos seus poemas no jornal "O Regional".&lt;br /&gt;Em 2005, participou em eventos culturais em Portugal e em Espanha aonde declamou poemas da sua autoria. Em 2006, participou com num evento cultural inserido na campanha "&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;Poesia à Mesa"&lt;/span&gt; denominada Filo Café, onde declamou um dos seus poemas e lançou a sua primeira obra "&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;ECOS MUDOS"&lt;/span&gt; na Fnac do Gaia Shopping a 22 de Abril desse ano, sob a chancela da Papiro Editora, que o levou a uma mini-digressão de quatro etapas de norte a centro de Portugal.&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;UM SEGUNDO&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Só posso estar a sonhar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Não consigo acreditar &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Naquilo que os meus olhos me mostram&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Uma visão divina sob a forma &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;De uma aguarela&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Mesmo à frente do meu nariz&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Da minha boca, vomito brasas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Do inferno de Dante&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Da minha língua, caem-me as sílabas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Das palavras que nunca te direi&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Meus olhos já tinham despertado&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Do transe das horas murchas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Meu corpo começava a acordar, lentamente&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Dos sonhos de seda escarlate &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Que encontrei nos antros de volúpia&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Aonde saciava os meus desejos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;E que larguei pelas esquinas medonhas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Até ao despertar da madrugada&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Sentia ainda o aroma do whisky&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Encharcado nos meus ossos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;A perturbar os meus sentidos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Sentia ainda o perfume da última mulher&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Na ponta dos meus lábios&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Sentado numa esplanada, faça um pedido&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;e sou atendido por um rapaz-caleidoscópio&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Que me serve um café de saco &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Para despertar o meu corpo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Da melancolia desta manhã de cloro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Um pardal delirante aterra no meu ombro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;E sussurra no meu ouvido:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;"&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Na inconsciência do ser esconde-se a chave do infinito"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Um segundo, foi quanto bastou&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Para que os meus olhos ficassem presos nos teus&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Um segundo, foi quanto bastou&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Para sentir a libido a invadir minhas veias&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Num segundo, morri&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Num segundo, regressei dos mortos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Num segundo, renasci&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Não consegui resistir...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Era mais forte do que eu...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;O brilho do teu sorriso de pérolas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Fez cegar os meus olhos de esmalte&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;o aroma da camomila&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Dos teus cabelos de fogo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Arrastou-se para a tua mesa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Como um zumbi enfeitiçado&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Sentados, lado a lado&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Começámos a trocar sorrisos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;E a desenhar gestos no vento&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Soltámos, livres, a alegria dos nossos rostos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;das cinzas do quotidiano&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Libertámos feixes de malícia&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Da clausura dos nossos templos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Das linhas da tua mão&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Fui contando-te os segredos das metáforas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Do som da tua voz&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Remontei ao esplendor do verão das origens&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Apertaste minha mão&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;E a morte deixou-nos &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Até ao romper das horas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Num segundo, perdi meu fôlego&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Num segundo. morri&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Num segundo, regressei dos mortos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Num segundo, renasci&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Selámos nosso encontro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Com um beijo de fogo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;E acendemos juntos uma chama&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;No âmago do nosso amor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Junto ao meu ouvido&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Sussurras-te um pedido&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Do ventre do teu desejo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Antes de me puxares&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Para fora do nosso recanto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Daquele beijo, só um sabor senti em minha língua&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Daquele encontro, só um pensamento&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Ecoava na minha mente...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;...&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"Nós"...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;TIAGO MOITA&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Ecos Mudos (2006)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0cm -15.8pt 0pt -18pt"&gt;, in&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3233741416518386244-4741983199406573924?l=gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/feeds/4741983199406573924/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3233741416518386244&amp;postID=4741983199406573924' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/4741983199406573924'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/4741983199406573924'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/2007/05/ecos-mudos-o-primeiro-livro-enigma-do.html' title='ECOS MUDOS: O PRIMEIRO LIVRO-ENIGMA DO MUNDO'/><author><name>Zaratustra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07793740456607510269</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://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rjx10eYnXVI/AAAAAAAAAEU/F3sVXjf1qoY/s72-c/CapaEcosMudos.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3233741416518386244.post-4876240471010800183</id><published>2007-04-20T07:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-27T07:48:57.573-07:00</updated><title type='text'>TIAGO MOITA NO FILO CAFÉ "RITOS E RITUAIS"</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/RijHnRb13SI/AAAAAAAAAEM/DPu54hbUPd0/s1600-h/21.tiagom.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5055510059232386338" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/RijHnRb13SI/AAAAAAAAAEM/DPu54hbUPd0/s400/21.tiagom.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;No Filo Café de 24 de Março, esteve também presente o escritor e poeta Sanjoanense Tiago Moita, que aproveitou a sessão cultural no Clube Literário do Porto para intervir, apresentando algumas opiniões sobre um dos temas em discussão e declamando dois poemas sobre o tema do Filo-Café: um de Luiza Neto Jorge e outro da sua Autoria.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;RITUAL &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;A jarra tombou &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;A água correu sobre a mesa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;As flores calaram-se aos poucos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;o espantalho tocou o acordeão&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;A criança cansou-se do vento&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;desatou as sandálias&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;O mar meditou duas vezes &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;qual o horizonte&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Do sótão a galinha presa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;viu um avião voar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Uns quantos vestiram-se de negro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;viveram da morte dos outros&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Suicidou-se uma sombra&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;debaixo do meu pé&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;A mulher vestiu-se de branco&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;para a Ressurreição&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;O país desbotou&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;no mapa das escolas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Amor que esperas de mim&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;a não ser eu.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;LUIZA NETO JORGE&lt;/strong&gt;, " &lt;em&gt;Quarta &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Dimensão&lt;/span&gt;"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;DÓLMEN &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Longe é a distância &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;que o tempo guarda na sua memória &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;um silêncio que se despe&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;por detrás das sombras das palavras&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;um eco mudo estrebuchando&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;do umbigo de um espelho&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;uma lembrança por apagar&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;do suicídio de uma lágrima&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Um sino toca no interior de uma gruta &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;um gesto devolve à terra a sua língua&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;uma luz dispara da garganta de um poço&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;para uma multidão com olhos de cera,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;telhados de vidro debaixo de máscaras de plástico&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;de costas voltadas para um tempo&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;gasto pela usura dos seus ponteiros &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Foi desligada a tomado do pensamento...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Cérebro em piloto automático...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;A cerimónia começa com uma explosão de cores e de sons&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;um caleidoscópio cego, carregado de hipérboles e adjectivos, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;dispara ordens em discurso directo&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;para o coração dos seus discípulos&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;O amor aparece sublinhado em legendas&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;por uma ejaculação precoce de sentidos&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;o sonho é um vampiro com asas de anjo&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;que suga da mente o sangue frio dos dias&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Felicidade é uma promessa entregue a uma roleta russa&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Verdade, uma palavra esquecida nas páginas de um dicionário&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Últimas orações:&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Uma moeda com uma palavra de fogo cai na ponta de cada língua&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;e um fio de água benta escorre da palma de uma mão invisível sobre testas de barro&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;o espírito desperta do sonho que fez de si próprio&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;o mundo despede-se dos olhos que o despiram &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Fim da Emissão&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;TIAGO MOITA&lt;/strong&gt;, 24-03-2007 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3233741416518386244-4876240471010800183?l=gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/feeds/4876240471010800183/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3233741416518386244&amp;postID=4876240471010800183' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/4876240471010800183'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/4876240471010800183'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/2007/04/tiago-moita-no-filo-caf-ritos-e-rituais.html' title='TIAGO MOITA NO FILO CAFÉ &quot;RITOS E RITUAIS&quot;'/><author><name>Zaratustra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07793740456607510269</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://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/RijHnRb13SI/AAAAAAAAAEM/DPu54hbUPd0/s72-c/21.tiagom.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3233741416518386244.post-8275871622690682837</id><published>2007-04-20T04:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-27T07:43:11.743-07:00</updated><title type='text'>SOBRE O FILO CAFÉ "RITOS E RITUAIS"</title><content type='html'>Numa atmosfera de grande expectativa e entusiasmo, decorreu no dia 24 de Março, Sábado, por volta das 21H30, o Filo-Café "Ritos e Rituais" no Clube Literário do Porto. Um Filo.Café marcado por uma intensa discussão filosófica aonde os modos de expressão demarcaram-se do formalismo sintético existente em certas tertúlias convencionais e aonde o pensamento se confundiu com a arte. A arte com a manifestação. O devir com a antítese. &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Para além do debate, contou-se também com a performance plástica da jovem escritora Sílvia Zayas: Jovem Luso-Galega que lançou nessa noite a sua mais recente obra poética "Amalaya!", na presença de artistas, escritores e outros convidados vindos de Portugal e da Galiza.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Aqui ficam algumas fotos desse evento:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/RiiiDBb129I/AAAAAAAAABk/7OuB5Bu5L40/s1600-h/01.silviae.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5055468754531900370" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/RiiiDBb129I/AAAAAAAAABk/7OuB5Bu5L40/s400/01.silviae.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Sílvia Zayas (Sentada no chão) no Filo-Café do Porto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/RiiiUBb12-I/AAAAAAAAABs/y7Uu0dAvTSQ/s1600-h/02.perf9.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5055469046589676514" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/RiiiUBb12-I/AAAAAAAAABs/y7Uu0dAvTSQ/s400/02.perf9.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Silvia Zayas dando início à sua performance&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Riiirxb12_I/AAAAAAAAAB0/GjDg-K7lZLg/s1600-h/03.pub3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5055469454611569650" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Riiirxb12_I/AAAAAAAAAB0/GjDg-K7lZLg/s400/03.pub3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Alberto Miranda dando início ao Filo-Café "RITOS E RITUAIS"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/RiijXxb13AI/AAAAAAAAAB8/Z0XcmId6Zc8/s1600-h/04.pub4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5055470210525813762" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/RiijXxb13AI/AAAAAAAAAB8/Z0XcmId6Zc8/s400/04.pub4.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Aspecto do local aonde se desenrolou o Filo-Café&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/RiijwRb13BI/AAAAAAAAACE/JQ54N1AhcpM/s1600-h/05alexan.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5055470631432608786" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/RiijwRb13BI/AAAAAAAAACE/JQ54N1AhcpM/s400/05alexan.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;O filósofo e poeta Alexandre Teixeira Mendes batendo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;palmas durante uma intervenção no Filo-Café "RITOS E&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;RITUAIS"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Riij7Rb13CI/AAAAAAAAACM/mOs6r59i9kE/s1600-h/06.pub-bar.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5055470820411169826" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Riij7Rb13CI/AAAAAAAAACM/mOs6r59i9kE/s400/06.pub-bar.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Uma parte do público que assistiu ao Filo-Café "RITOS E&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;RITUAIS"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/RiikHxb13DI/AAAAAAAAACU/N89_CiOyjwc/s1600-h/07.perfa1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5055471035159534642" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/RiikHxb13DI/AAAAAAAAACU/N89_CiOyjwc/s400/07.perfa1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Sílvia Zayas em plena performance&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/RiikURb13EI/AAAAAAAAACc/LA6o0J0qPIM/s1600-h/08.perfa2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5055471249907899458" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/RiikURb13EI/AAAAAAAAACc/LA6o0J0qPIM/s400/08.perfa2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Sílvia Zayas em plena performance (II)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Riiklxb13FI/AAAAAAAAACk/i2cjU2Qvy8M/s1600-h/09.perfa3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5055471550555610194" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Riiklxb13FI/AAAAAAAAACk/i2cjU2Qvy8M/s400/09.perfa3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Sílvia Zayas em plena performance (III)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Riik0Bb13GI/AAAAAAAAACs/mndZgzYNATs/s1600-h/10.perfa5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5055471795368746082" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Riik0Bb13GI/AAAAAAAAACs/mndZgzYNATs/s400/10.perfa5.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Sílvia Zayas em plena performance (IV)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/RiilChb13HI/AAAAAAAAAC0/s2DYUMfLkfQ/s1600-h/11.am.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5055472044476849266" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/RiilChb13HI/AAAAAAAAAC0/s2DYUMfLkfQ/s400/11.am.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Tiago Moita (Esquerda, ao fundo) aplaudindo uma das &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;intervenções e Amílcar Mendes (Canto Direito)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/RiilYhb13II/AAAAAAAAAC8/jdMm6IleZgY/s1600-h/13.aur.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5055472422433971330" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/RiilYhb13II/AAAAAAAAAC8/jdMm6IleZgY/s400/13.aur.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;O Poeta e advogado Aurelino Costa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Riilpxb13JI/AAAAAAAAADE/vLQOArZaANU/s1600-h/14.carlosgil.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5055472718786714770" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Riilpxb13JI/AAAAAAAAADE/vLQOArZaANU/s400/14.carlosgil.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Carlos Gil no Filo-Café "RITOS E RITUAIS"&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Riil6xb13KI/AAAAAAAAADM/yYHiZEbJrNE/s1600-h/15.luz.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5055473010844490914" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Riil6xb13KI/AAAAAAAAADM/yYHiZEbJrNE/s400/15.luz.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;A poeta luz Gomes, de monção, no Filo-Café "RITOS E &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;RITUAIS"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/RiimIRb13LI/AAAAAAAAADU/TSnaY_ajDyY/s1600-h/16.carrola-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5055473242772724914" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/RiimIRb13LI/AAAAAAAAADU/TSnaY_ajDyY/s400/16.carrola-1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;O escritor e poeta Rogério Carrola, de Vila&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Nova de Sto. André no Filo-Café "RITOS E&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;RITUAIS"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/RiimiBb13MI/AAAAAAAAADc/N_-zyFrS-yE/s1600-h/17.esq.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5055473685154356418" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/RiimiBb13MI/AAAAAAAAADc/N_-zyFrS-yE/s400/17.esq.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Alguns dos convidados e amigos de Sílvia Zayas, vindos da &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Galiza&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Riim7xb13NI/AAAAAAAAADk/kU_E9RbGZaU/s1600-h/18.taxa.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5055474127535987922" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Riim7xb13NI/AAAAAAAAADk/kU_E9RbGZaU/s400/18.taxa.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Jorge Taxa intervindo no Filo-Café "RITOS E RITUAIS"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/RiinOhb13OI/AAAAAAAAADs/3FctDqE7_gg/s1600-h/19.deb.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5055474449658535138" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/RiinOhb13OI/AAAAAAAAADs/3FctDqE7_gg/s400/19.deb.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;A fotógrafa Cubana Deborah Nofret (en) cantando no filo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Café "RITOS E RITUAIS"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Riin2Bb13PI/AAAAAAAAAD0/ln6WCt2AzoI/s1600-h/20.alice.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5055475128263367922" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Riin2Bb13PI/AAAAAAAAAD0/ln6WCt2AzoI/s400/20.alice.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;A artista Alice Valente, de Lisboa, no Filo-Café "RITOS E&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;RITUAIS"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/RiioDBb13QI/AAAAAAAAAD8/sfTMppPuSYQ/s1600-h/22.sandra.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5055475351601667330" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/RiioDBb13QI/AAAAAAAAAD8/sfTMppPuSYQ/s400/22.sandra.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Uma foto da Escritora&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;e Poeta Sandra Costa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Para finalizar, deixo-vos com um excerto do livro Bilingue de poesia de Sílvia Zayas "Amalaya!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;INSTRUÇÕES PARA COMER TERRA&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1. &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chegar o ouvido à língua da terra&lt;/strong&gt;:&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;A sua história infeliz repete lagartos falantes. Aprendo a sua &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;linguagem.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2. &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Reptar, deixar que entre&lt;/strong&gt;:&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;A minha boca mastiga terra. Recinto fechado sem mundo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Meço as minhas entranhas como quem mede um pássaro.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Sento-me na pedra contorcionista com as pernas viradas &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;para o cume da montanha. Doí.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3. &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Avançar uns metros&lt;/strong&gt;:&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Deixo espaço, imito o som da gravilha quando o vento brinca&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;com ela. Fumeio a poeira para cima, faço-me minúscula e plana.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Fiadas de arame rente a mim esburacam-me as costas &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;com as suas faces metálicas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;4. &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Olhar para cima com a boca cheia de terra&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Tudo se alarma longe, grande. Reza inalcançável o feixe de &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;luz e não me remenda sacramento nenhum.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;5&lt;em&gt;. &lt;strong&gt;Medir o movimento&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tenho medo ao barulho do meu corpo.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;6&lt;em&gt;. &lt;strong&gt;Deixar-se estar em silêncio&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Habito uma madrigueira com pelugens de mamíferos que&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;nunca lá esteve. Cobre-me a mão da noite, com &lt;em&gt;o mal que lhe&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;haja &lt;/em&gt;dado algum animal pré-histórico, quero deter o tempo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;como a mentira do chapeleiro que obstruiu o seus relógios à &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;hora combinada, para me acocorar numa estrela.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;7&lt;em&gt;. &lt;strong&gt;Fazer um ritual inútil com cardos e folhada (que não&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;mudará o mundo&lt;/em&gt;):&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Golpeio madeira como louca, a louca da terra, a louca da raiz, a &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;louca loucura.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;8&lt;em&gt;. &lt;strong&gt;Conhecer/ amanhecer&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Procuro um pássaro para me alimentar do seu voo, com &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;desejo exacto de ave e de cegar o ar em tantos pedaços como&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;pari a alma. Súbito e pele, caminha-me por cima o vesgo e olha&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;para mim atravessando. Ata-me ao verso. Enfeitiço-me ao &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;malefício do verso, ao seu estigma, à sua dificuldade em ser&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;quotidiana. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;9. &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Gritar AMALAYA&lt;/strong&gt;:&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;levanto-me atordoada. &lt;em&gt;Malhayada, &lt;/em&gt;decido o movimento. O&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;vesgo é o poeta e dá-me o encantamento do olhar. Já não há&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;prodígio nenhum que me devolva a cegueira.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;10. &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Já de pé, avançar aos saltos pela circunferência&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;do mundo.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3233741416518386244-8275871622690682837?l=gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/feeds/8275871622690682837/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3233741416518386244&amp;postID=8275871622690682837' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/8275871622690682837'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/8275871622690682837'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/2007/04/sobre-o-filo-caf-ritos-e-rituais.html' title='SOBRE O FILO CAFÉ &quot;RITOS E RITUAIS&quot;'/><author><name>Zaratustra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07793740456607510269</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/_ax5j0jpLtHg/RiiiDBb129I/AAAAAAAAABk/7OuB5Bu5L40/s72-c/01.silviae.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3233741416518386244.post-6456456049826637423</id><published>2007-04-20T04:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-20T04:11:46.758-07:00</updated><title type='text'>LANÇAMENTO DO LIVRO "ROSTOS DESCALÇOS" DE LUÍS DE AGUIAR</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Riie6hb128I/AAAAAAAAABc/wgee031ATbs/s1600-h/Convite-p-e-mail---Rostos-D.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5055465309968128962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 619px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 345px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="214" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Riie6hb128I/AAAAAAAAABc/wgee031ATbs/s400/Convite-p-e-mail---Rostos-D.gif" width="399" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Este sábado, dia 21 de Abril, a partir das 21H30,vai ter lugar na Livraria Entrelinhas, em S. João da Madeira, a sessão de lançamento do Livro de poesia "&lt;em&gt;ROSTOS DESCALÇOS"&lt;/em&gt; do poeta Oliveirense Luís de Aguiar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Este livro foi distinguido pelo primeiro prémio de poesia Montijo Jovem 2005.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3233741416518386244-6456456049826637423?l=gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/feeds/6456456049826637423/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3233741416518386244&amp;postID=6456456049826637423' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/6456456049826637423'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/6456456049826637423'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/2007/04/lanamento-do-livro-rostos-descalos-de.html' title='LANÇAMENTO DO LIVRO &quot;ROSTOS DESCALÇOS&quot; DE LUÍS DE AGUIAR'/><author><name>Zaratustra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07793740456607510269</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/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Riie6hb128I/AAAAAAAAABc/wgee031ATbs/s72-c/Convite-p-e-mail---Rostos-D.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3233741416518386244.post-6891733378118284929</id><published>2007-03-15T08:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-15T08:11:06.087-07:00</updated><title type='text'>LEMBRAR CAMILO PESSANHA (1867 - 1926)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/RflgEGetvJI/AAAAAAAAABU/LWLj0t5qH2c/s1600-h/pessanha.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5042166881393163410" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/RflgEGetvJI/AAAAAAAAABU/LWLj0t5qH2c/s400/pessanha.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;ESTÁTUA&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Cansei-me de tentar o teu segredo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;No teu olhar sem cor, - frio escalpelo, -&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;O meu olhar quebrei, a debatê-lo,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Como a onda na crista dum rochedo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Segredo dessa alma e meu degredo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;e minha obsessão! Para bebê-lo,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Fui teu lábio oscular, num pesadelo, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Por noites de pavor, cheio de medo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;E o meu ósculo ardente, alucinado&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Esfriou sobre o mármore correcto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Desse entreaberto lábio gelado...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Desse lábio de mármore, discreto,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Severo como um túmulo fechado,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Sereno como um pélago quieto.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Camilo Pessanha in "&lt;em&gt;Clepsidra" (&lt;/em&gt;1920)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3233741416518386244-6891733378118284929?l=gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/feeds/6891733378118284929/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3233741416518386244&amp;postID=6891733378118284929' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/6891733378118284929'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/6891733378118284929'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/2007/03/lembrar-camilo-pessanha-1867-1926.html' title='LEMBRAR CAMILO PESSANHA (1867 - 1926)'/><author><name>Zaratustra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07793740456607510269</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://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/RflgEGetvJI/AAAAAAAAABU/LWLj0t5qH2c/s72-c/pessanha.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3233741416518386244.post-6655211948081659882</id><published>2007-03-15T07:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-26T03:08:47.152-07:00</updated><title type='text'>FILO-CAFÉ "OS MEUS POEMAS PREFERIDOS"</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/RflbXWetvFI/AAAAAAAAAA0/OqD9SodcUSw/s1600-h/florbela_espanca.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5042161714547506258" style="CURSOR: hand" height="244" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/RflbXWetvFI/AAAAAAAAAA0/OqD9SodcUSw/s400/florbela_espanca.jpg" width="183" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/RflbPGetvEI/AAAAAAAAAAs/joipI-zeMgY/s1600-h/camoes4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5042161572813585474" style="WIDTH: 191px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 244px" height="244" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/RflbPGetvEI/AAAAAAAAAAs/joipI-zeMgY/s400/camoes4.jpg" width="183" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rflb02etvHI/AAAAAAAAABE/xMSS8Wn3Uek/s1600-h/pessoa1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5042162221353647218" style="WIDTH: 145px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" height="160" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rflb02etvHI/AAAAAAAAABE/xMSS8Wn3Uek/s400/pessoa1.jpg" width="148" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rflbn2etvGI/AAAAAAAAAA8/Ol2cro6yCtU/s1600-h/Sophia.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5042161998015347810" style="WIDTH: 141px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 241px" height="200" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rflbn2etvGI/AAAAAAAAAA8/Ol2cro6yCtU/s400/Sophia.jpg" width="164" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Qual o poema ou o poeta que mais o marcou? Haverá memória de algum momento que não merecesse um poema? Será o tempo uma memória esquecida onde o tempo fará a curva ou será a memória um verso esquecido de um poeta que chora por um grito no canto de uma página? Reflexões, discussões, vozes por soltar, poemas e poetas estarão à solta no mês da poesia em S. JOÃO DA MADEIRA.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rfld1metvII/AAAAAAAAABM/gaMxojFVTwA/s1600-h/foto+para+publicidade.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5042164433261804674" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rfld1metvII/AAAAAAAAABM/gaMxojFVTwA/s400/foto+para+publicidade.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;SÁBADO, 17 DE MARÇO, 21H30&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;FILO-CAFÉ&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;"&lt;em&gt;OS MEUS POEMAS PREFERIDOS"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;LIVRARIA ENTRELINHAS&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;(R. João de Deus, 167. Ao lado do Tribunal de S. João da Madeira, entre as filiais dos Bancos Santander e Millenium BCP)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Entrada Livre…Tal como o pensamento)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;Participantes:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tiago Moita&lt;/strong&gt; (&lt;em&gt;S. João da Madeira, Poesia&lt;/em&gt;); &lt;strong&gt;Luís de Aguiar&lt;/strong&gt; (&lt;em&gt;Pinheiro da Bemposta, Poesia&lt;/em&gt;); &lt;strong&gt;Marco Santos&lt;/strong&gt; (&lt;em&gt;S. João da Madeira, Poesia e expressão plástica&lt;/em&gt;); &lt;strong&gt;Juliana Pinho&lt;/strong&gt; (&lt;em&gt;Carregosa, Poesia&lt;/em&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3233741416518386244-6655211948081659882?l=gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/feeds/6655211948081659882/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3233741416518386244&amp;postID=6655211948081659882' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/6655211948081659882'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/6655211948081659882'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/2007/03/fil-caf-os-meus-poemas-preferidos.html' title='FILO-CAFÉ &quot;OS MEUS POEMAS PREFERIDOS&quot;'/><author><name>Zaratustra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07793740456607510269</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/_ax5j0jpLtHg/RflbXWetvFI/AAAAAAAAAA0/OqD9SodcUSw/s72-c/florbela_espanca.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3233741416518386244.post-625398734485156788</id><published>2007-03-14T14:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-26T03:03:06.812-07:00</updated><title type='text'>SARA COSTA LANÇA "UMA DEVASTAÇÃO INTELIGENTE" EM S. JOÃO DA MADEIRA</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rfk7EGetvDI/AAAAAAAAAAk/7s2Ewerx1NU/s1600-h/capa-devastao.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5042126199462935602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rfk7EGetvDI/AAAAAAAAAAk/7s2Ewerx1NU/s400/capa-devastao.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rfhr9metvCI/AAAAAAAAAAc/6CAUlLi_RXo/s1600-h/capa-devastao.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;22 De Março às 21h30 na Biblioteca Municipal&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sara F. Costa nasceu em 1987, é natural da Vila de Cucujães e efectuou todo o seu percurso escolar em S. João da Madeira, tendo frequentado o secundário na área de Artes na escola Serafim Leite. O seu fascínio pelo outro lado do mundo leva-a a estudar algo tão excêntrico como Chinês e Japonês na Universidade do Minho na Licenciatura em Estudos Orientais que actualmente frequenta. Paralelamente, a arte da escrita é-lhe necessária e inerente. Algumas pessoas diriam apenas que se veste de forma um bocado estranha, ouve música barulhenta e passa a vida a ver macacada japonesa. “Uma Devastação Inteligente” é agora o trabalho destacado com o Prémio Literário João da Silva Correia. "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;PASSOS DE ZINCO ATRAVESSAM-SE NAS ESTRADAS&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Passos de zinco atravessam-se nas estradas&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Dizes trazer o terror preso na garganta&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;E o amor de lado,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;De um qualquer lado.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Densas insónias circulam nos músculos das imagens,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Colam-se às feições pouco nítidas dos meus reflexos.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;E a solidão incinerada nas beiras dos passeios emana um odor turvo.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Tu prossegues por dentro dos versos poluídos.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;O silêncio surge-te a vermelho enquanto o mundo vira a sua carne raspada para os holofotes.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sara F. Costa in "UMA DEVASTAÇÃO INTELIGENTE"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3233741416518386244-625398734485156788?l=gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/feeds/625398734485156788/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3233741416518386244&amp;postID=625398734485156788' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/625398734485156788'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/625398734485156788'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/2007/03/sara-costa-lana-uma-devastao-impossvel.html' title='SARA COSTA LANÇA &quot;UMA DEVASTAÇÃO INTELIGENTE&quot; EM S. JOÃO DA MADEIRA'/><author><name>Zaratustra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07793740456607510269</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://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/Rfk7EGetvDI/AAAAAAAAAAk/7s2Ewerx1NU/s72-c/capa-devastao.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3233741416518386244.post-2322849022015032012</id><published>2007-03-14T14:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-26T03:06:37.826-07:00</updated><title type='text'>O GRUPO "TARDE E A MÁS HORAS"</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/RfhnX2etvAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/4sI9lbkSd9s/s1600-h/01.DeclamaÃ§Ã£o+da+Sara+Costa+(Camilo+Pessanha+goes+East).JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5041893442300263426" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 468px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 279px" height="183" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/RfhnX2etvAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/4sI9lbkSd9s/s320/01.Declama%C3%A7%C3%A3o+da+Sara+Costa+(Camilo+Pessanha+goes+East).JPG" width="154" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/RfhnX2etvAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/4sI9lbkSd9s/s1600-h/01.DeclamaÃ§Ã£o+da+Sara+Costa+(Camilo+Pessanha+goes+East).JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/RfhnX2etvAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/4sI9lbkSd9s/s1600-h/01.DeclamaÃ§Ã£o+da+Sara+Costa+(Camilo+Pessanha+goes+East).JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fundado a 31 de Agosto de 2006, por Luís de Aguiar, Sara Costa, Tiago Moita, Marco Santos e Juliana Leite, a convite de Ricardo Silva, dono da Livraria Entrelinhas, fundada a 8 de Setembro de 2006, o grupo “TARDE E A MÁS HORAS” surgiu no Âmbito de colmatar uma lacuna cultural muito grande na região: a falta de eventos culturais semanais que pudessem trazer a cultura de uma forma universal e gratuita às pessoas e dinamizasse ainda mais a actividade cultural em S. João da Madeira, extremamente dependente até á data dos eventos culturais promovidos pela Câmara Municipal de S. João da Madeira ou por pequenos grupos culturais que efectuavam pequenos eventos para um número muito restrito de pessoas momentaneamente.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;ESPECTÁCULO “SETEMBRO (IN)VERSO”- O BAPTISMO DE FOGO (23/09/2006) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Foi num ambiente de grande expectativa e curiosidade q.b. que no dia 23 de Setembro, teve início o primeiro espectáculo do grupo cultural não-conceitual e pós (do pós) contemporâneo "TARDE E A MÁS HORAS", na Livraria Entrelinhas, em S. João da Madeira: Um espectáculo denominado "SETEMBRO (IN) VERSO" em homenagem a poetas portugueses que nasceram ou morreram no mês de Setembro. Nesse espectáculo os poetas homenageados foram Camilo Pessanha, Afonso Lopes Vieira, Antero de Quental, José Luís Peixoto e Natália Correia.&lt;br /&gt;Sob a influência do ambiente acolhedor da livraria, que só pelo aspecto e traço arquitectónico é um convite por excelência, da música dos SIGUR RÓS que tornou tanto a atmosfera do espectáculo ainda mais envolvente e do clima de expectativa e de curiosidade estampado nos olhos dos espectadores que tiveram a felicidade de assistir aquele espectáculo único, desenrolou-se num espaço de poucas horas um verdadeiro concerto de emoções e de desejos pautado pela música, pela magia da declamação que cada um dos membros do grupo efectuou a cada um dos poetas que escolheu para declamar e pela moderação do nosso ilustre poeta e membro do grupo, Luís de Aguiar. &lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A primeira Declamação foi efectuada pela escritora e poeta, autora do livro "A MELANCOLIA DAS MÃOS E OUTROS RASGOS" (Pé de Página, 2004), estudante também de Estudos Orientais na Universidade do Minho, Sara Costa. Sara escolheu declamar alguns versos de Camilo Pessanha – o célebre poeta, autor da célebre obra "CLEPSIDRA": Uma escolha conveniente devido à ligação que o falecido poeta teve com Oriente (Mais propriamente com Macau) envolta com a magia e a sensualidade com que Sara Costa consegue imprimir nas suas declamações poéticas. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A segunda Declamação foi efectuada por Marco Santos, elemento do grupo e ex-membro do grupo N.A.T (Núcleo Amador de Teatro), de S. João da Madeira. Fez nesse espectáculo a declamação de um poema escrito em Setembro pelo poeta Afonso Pais Vieira: Um declamação extremamente teatral e cheia de sentimento, relatando o fado (ou destino, para alguns) do nosso país, à beira mar plantado. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A terceira declamação foi levada a cabo pelo Autor do blog, Tiago Moita, escritor e poeta, autor do primeiro Livro – Enigma do Mundo, "ECOS MUDOS" (Papiro Editora, 2006), e teve como poeta escolhido, José Luís Peixoto: Uma declamação que teve como pano de fundo três poemas do livro "A CRIANÇA EM RUÍNAS" e um poema escritor pelo autor deste blog, que resume o percurso pessoal e literário do poeta alentejano:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;JOSÉ&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;LUÍS PEIXOTO&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Quando nasceu, já era a escuridão&lt;br /&gt;A escuridão em si, quando nasceu&lt;br /&gt;Nasceu na terra das searas de trigo&lt;br /&gt;E dos cantares ao desafio&lt;br /&gt;Celeiro do país aonde inventaram a arrogância&lt;br /&gt;Lançado para o seio da terra como um pião na mão de uma criança&lt;br /&gt;Pele de uma sombra navegando ao sabor da corrente de um rio&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alguém que é eu sem o saber&lt;br /&gt;Miserável, forma de homem, pessoa&lt;br /&gt;Invisível numa seara, a agitar tempestades&lt;br /&gt;Dentro das sombras, como um mistério&lt;br /&gt;Alguém que é que não deveria ser&lt;br /&gt;E ri, perante a natureza que reflecte no espelho de si próprio&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Da sua caligrafia, construiu as escadas do seu destino&lt;br /&gt;Quando partiu para Lisboa, filha do Tejo&lt;br /&gt;Capital do país donde nasceu a palavra saudade&lt;br /&gt;Como um viajante com um destino traçado&lt;br /&gt;Que construiu textos de ouro, sangue e cinzas&lt;br /&gt;Com os seus dedos de fumo, para rios de tinta e de papel&lt;br /&gt;E apanhou o seu primeiro sol com os dois silêncios&lt;br /&gt;Que minguam dentro das paredes de fumo&lt;br /&gt;À custa de nenhum olhar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;À custa de nenhum olhar&lt;br /&gt;Começou a dar palavras aos falcões de barro&lt;br /&gt;Que teimavam não escutar os seus gritos&lt;br /&gt;Já antes teriam lhe dito: “Morreste-me!”&lt;br /&gt;Mas tudo não passou de um eco perdido&lt;br /&gt;A vaguear pelos cantos de uma casa na escuridão&lt;br /&gt;Como um fio de veneno ferido pelo gume do seu antídoto&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hoje, és mais que a criança em ruínas&lt;br /&gt;Que corria num pomar para abraçar o seu pai&lt;br /&gt;Que podia dormir até tarde nas férias do verão, quando o sol entrava pela janela&lt;br /&gt;Quando não conhecia a letra p, quando não conhecia a palavra “poema”&lt;br /&gt;E comia torradas feitas ao lume da cozinha do seu quintal&lt;br /&gt;És o homem que se vê através dos seus olhos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O homem vivo que sente em cada pedra&lt;br /&gt;O silêncio que caminha pelo seu corpo como uma aragem&lt;br /&gt;O homem vivo que sente em cada montanha&lt;br /&gt;A vida e o sol a iluminarem o seu rosto&lt;br /&gt;O homem vivo que sente a sua própria pureza e alegria&lt;br /&gt;Em cada grão de areia que apanha desordenadamente&lt;br /&gt;Na praia aonde os seus dedos largam cinzas&lt;br /&gt;Nas primeiras exigências da primavera&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O olhar que desenha fumo na luz&lt;br /&gt;E escreve no seu peito: mãe&lt;br /&gt;Ser que dormes e me fizeste nascer de ti&lt;br /&gt;Para ser as palavras que não se escrevem&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Agora que despi o teu corpo de sangue e de sal&lt;br /&gt;Nesta existência de papel&lt;br /&gt;Para os olhos deste pedaço de mundo&lt;br /&gt;Que nunca enxergou as tuas palavras&lt;br /&gt;Nem saboreou as lágrimas que escorrem das tuas feridas&lt;br /&gt;Apago a luz que acendi junto ao teu busto de granito&lt;br /&gt;Esperando que o fumo do seu suspiro vá ao encontro do teu coração&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que está sempre contigo em cada um dos quatro cantos do mundo&lt;br /&gt;Que já beberam o sol das tuas sílabas e dos teus parágrafos&lt;br /&gt;E decifraram o significado do teu nome&lt;br /&gt;Que distribuíste juntamente com as palavras&lt;br /&gt;Que atiravas aos pombos, do teu quintal, todas as manhãs&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que é o tudo que tu queres aprender&lt;br /&gt;Que é o teu olhar e tudo o que imagino dele&lt;br /&gt;Que é a exaustão e a liberdade sentida&lt;br /&gt;Da morte que é esta caneta que não é os teus dedos&lt;br /&gt;Da carne salgada, fruto do sangue da sombra do sol-posto&lt;br /&gt;Que dá forma às feições do poema que é o teu rosto. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;A quarta declamação foi levada a cabo pela estudante da Escola Secundária João da Silva Correia, Juliana Leite, que declamou muito bem (sentada) dois poemas de Antero de Quental de uma forma muito emotiva e épica, tal como se de uma representação teatral se tratasse. &lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Para concluir, ficou aquilo que eu chamei a "Cereja no Bolo". Luís de Aguiar, elemento do grupo, escritor e poeta de Pinheiro da Bemposta, Concelho de Oliveira de Azeméis, autor do livro "OS FILHOS RAIANOS" (Palimagem, 2006), que teve a tarefa (in) grata de ser o MC (Mestre de Cerimónias) do nosso grupo, declamou alguns dos poemas da grande poeta Natália Correia, falecida em 1993: Uma declamação pausada mas muito envolvente e comovente, que encerrou o primeiro espectáculo do grupo com chave de ouro e aclamação por parte da imprensa local e do público que assistiu ao espectáculo, em especial.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;O ESPECTÁCULO “MAUDITS” (21/10/2006)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&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;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Descendo as escadas íngremes da poesia do Século XIX, o grupo TARDE E A MÁS HORAS resolveu apostar numa sessão cultural de homenagem aos denominados Poetas Malditos, ou “Maudits” em Francês, iluminando o caminho obscuro e amaldiçoado dos&lt;br /&gt;Sete poetas que revolucionaram a escrita, transportando para a corrente simbolista, que mais tarde foi responsável pela eclosão do Movimento Surrealista no século XX: A destacar Arthur Rimbaud, Charles Baudelaire, Paul Verlaine, Stéphane Mallarmé, Isidore Ducasse, Tristan Corbière e Villiers de L’isle Adam.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perante uma plateia atenta e que foi crescendo ao longo do Serão, o grupo de Sara Costa, Tiago Moita, Juliana Leite, Luís de Aguiar, Marco Santos e de um novo elemento, natural de Carregosa, Juliana Pinho, ressuscitaram os pais do Simbolismo e do Surrealismo, ou como sublinhou Luís de Aguiar, o elemento escolhido pelo grupo nesta jornada pelo submundo dos poetas malditos “Foram eles que quebraram todas as regras, em pleno século XIX, que romperam com as regras formais e trouxeram algo de novo para a poesia”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A sessão começou com as participações de Luís de Aguiar e Tiago Moita na declamação de dois poemas de Charles Baudelaire, poeta condenado pelos seus escritos eróticos, cáusticos e provocativos, principal responsável pelo nascimento da poesia simbolista mundial e pelo lançamento das bases do Modernismo. Mundialmente conhecido pela sua obra “As flores do Mal”, Baudelaire ressurge desse jardim proibido num “Convite à viagem”, declamado por Luís de Aguiar e Tiago Moita em conjunto, e nas suas “Tristezas da Lua”, declamado por Tiago Moita a solo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O Jardineiro das “Flores do Mal” influenciou a rebeldia métrica de Rimbaud e de Ducasse, a musicalidade de Verlaine, o intelectualismo de Mallarmé e a ironia coloquial de Corbière. Marginais à sociedade com hábitos morais condenáveis, foram também os libertadores da língua, cortando as amarras convencionais e criando novas propriedades estilísticas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amigo de Rimbaud, poeta com quem partilhou inúmeras experiências e aventuras, Paul Verlaine recebeu uma homenagem pulsante do seu “Esboço Parisiense”, poema declamado por Juliana Leite e uma claridade lírica dos seus “Sois Poentes”, aquando da sua declamação por parte de Luís de Aguiar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nesta sessão, Rimbaud eleva-se numa declamação em dueto, protagonizado por Sara Costa e por Tiago Moita, em “Angústia”. Nessa parte, surgiu um pequeno desarranjo, fruto de uma pequena descoordenação da parte de um elemento convidado de nome Nicolau, que se esqueceu de fazer a declamação em Francês inicial de cada um dos poemas a partir da declamação dos poemas de Arthur Rimbaud, mas depressa foi posta de parte com a brilhante declamação do poema “Manhã” por parte de Sara Costa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sentado numa cadeira, qual poeta abandonado pela vazio e pelo silêncio que consome as suas feridas, Marco Santos deu início à declamação de alguns fragmentos dos Cantos de Maldoror, do Temível Conde de Lautréamont, pseudónimo de Isidore Ducasse utilizado para assinar os seus poemas e a única obra que escreveu em vida. Uma declamação compassada e melancólica, espelho do modo de ser do poeta que escolheu para homenagear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Esgueirando-se por entre a multidão, Sara Costa e Juliana Leite deram voz aos atalhos soturnos e intelectuais de Stéphane Mallarmé. Começando com uma “Saudação”, declamado maravilhosamente por Juliana Leite, até terminar como a magnitude lírica do poema “Sinaleiro”, declamado com a mesma fluidez e brilhantismo da sua colega, por Sara Costa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fleumática e Fabulosa talvez sejam os adjectivos que melhor personificam a declamação poética de Juliana Pinho, o mais recente elemento do grupo, aos poemas de Tristan Corbière e Villiers de L’Isle Adam. Com a sua sintaxe sincopada e os seus gritos bizarros, Juliana Pinho acabou por conseguir transportar a alma atormentada de cada poema destes dois grande poetas malditos para os olhos dos espectadores atentos e estupefactos com a sua estonteante e deslumbrante actuação de uma rapariga que, em poucos minutos, revelou um talento natural não só para a poesia como também para a representação dramática.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Terminadas as sessões de declamação surgiu uma inesperada surpresa: pela primeira vez surgiu uma imprevista interacção entre o público e o grupo, devido a uma interpolação de uma espectadora sobre o tema da sessão. Algo de inesperado mas que demonstrou pela primeira vez uma interacção muito importante para o grupo em sessões futuras.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;ENTREVISTA A FERNANDO VELOSO (18/11/2006)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Fugindo em direcção a uma corrente cultural, diferente da seguida nas duas sessões anteriores, o grupo TARDE E A MÁS HORAS resolveu apostar num formato diferente: a entrevista, um tipo de texto jornalístico que o grupo decidiu apostar nesse mês de forma a variar a sua actividade na Livraria Entrelinhas. Nesse mês o convidado foi o célebre pintor português, natural de S. João da Madeira, Fernando Veloso.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fernando Veloso é um pintor que se tem destacado por inúmeras exposições colectivas nacionais e internacionais. Segundo palavras do autor, o caminho pelas artes surgiu por acaso, numa altura em que Fernando Veloso não tinha ainda qualquer perspectiva profissional “Nunca quis ser nada em especial, mas as maçãs não aparecem de geração espontânea”. Aliado o seu gosto especial pelo desenho, que foi cultivando, nos tempos livres, com a oportunidade de expor pela primeira pela primeira vez e, acidentalmente, no Bar Pede Salsa, onde “ganhava uns trocos a lavar pratos e copos”, Veloso foi definindo o seu rumo artístico a caminho de um maior aperfeiçoamento.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chegado o ano de 1995, Fernando Veloso termina a sua Licenciatura em Ensino de Educação Visual e começa a dedicar-se à pintura, expondo de uma forma regular as suas telas em Restaurantes, Bares e em outras montras colectivas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rejeitando qualquer tipo de etiqueta ou fórmula conceptual que definisse o seu estilo e as suas obras, o pintor sanjoanense, e também professor de Educação Visual admitiu, porém, enquadrar-se num certo “Expressionismo Figurativo”, traduzido essencialmente em Anjos e Demónios Seminus: “Este tema sempre me cativou.” Apesar de ter tido uma certa formação católica, o artista confessou acreditar numa força superior e em todas as religiões.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sem se importar em procurar qualquer tipo de argumento para pintar, Fernando Veloso afirma que só lê o quadro, depois da obra estar concluída, desmistificando a ideia pré-concebida de que o artista concebe a sua obra propositadamente para produzir uma determinada reacção, “Na maior parte das vezes, não é intencional e se me perguntam o que está por detrás de uma tela minha eu respondo que não está atrás mas à frente, pois o quadro é somente o ponto de partida para a interpretação de cada um.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O nú é um dos temas recorrentes de Fernando Veloso, quer através da representação de um anjo, de um demónio ou de um simples ser humano, experimentando “transparências” bem como a nudez das suas figuras, de modo a inspirar uma aparência de sensualidade e não de sexualidade. Pois, segundo o artista, o segredo está “em saber pensar no homem e na mulher como se estivessem num bailado.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Repetição e monotonia são palavras que não rimam nem se enquadram com a actividade de Veloso “Procuro não estar sempre a fazer a mesma coisa”, vinca. Por isso, neste momento, Veloso abandonou os corpos humanos esculpidos em árvores para se dedicar à temática anjo e demónio, bem e mal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quanto ao ambiente gerado pela entrevista, devo dizer que não estava à espera de tamanha atmosfera de satisfação, interactividade e de riso nessa sessão. Mérito da maneira de ser inquieta e irreverente do entrevistado que temperou bastante a entrevista com uma boa dose de sentido de humor e de à-vontade, não só fruto do seu estado de espírito, mas também dos espectadores que o questionaram, juntamente com alguns elementos do Grupo, mas também mérito do espírito de moderação e naturalidade de Sara Costa, que vestiu o papel de entrevistadora numa sessão classificada como uma das melhores sessões alguma vez elaboradas pelo Grupo TARDE E A MÁS HORAS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;O CORPO E A MENTE NAS ARTES MARCIAIS (16/12/2006)&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Da poesia para a pintura. O grupo TARDE E MÁS HORAS resolveu virar-se para o Oriente, mais propriamente para as Artes Marciais, um tema relacionado não só ao desporto mas também à saúde e ao esoterismo, como os mestres convidados acabaram por referenciar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Regressando à entrevista, um formato que culminou num grande sucesso para o grupo, moderado mais uma vez por Sara Costa, a sessão iniciou-se com a abordagem ao Shaolin, uma arte marcial milenar provinda dos templos Budistas Chineses, comentada por Augusto Pinto, Mestre de Shaolin nascido em Angola em 1967, residente em S. João da Madeira há cerca de trinta anos. Sua incursão pelas artes marciais começou há 24 anos, com o TAE-KON-DO, ingressando mais tarde no KUNG-FU e no Shaolin, exercitando também TAI CHI. Para auxiliar melhor a sua dissertação, Augusto Pinto serviu-se de um projector e de um trabalho sobre o shaolin em PPS, que realçou de uma forma moderna a origem e as funções dessa arte marcial oriental.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Representando o VIET VOO DAO, estava o mestre Júlio, da ARMA, que realçou a importância da transmissão de valores éticos fundamentais para a construção do carácter da personalidade no ser humano, bem como o equilíbrio: um elemento tão fundamental para garantir a concentração e a autodisciplina essenciais para a boa prática não só dessa arte marcial de origem vietnamita, mas de qualquer arte marcial em particular. Um discurso bastante expressivo e emotivo, que, infelizmente, não foi completado com a explicação acerca da origem e das diferenças entre esta arte marcial oriental e os outros tipo de artes marciais.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Relativamente ao TAI CHI, a explicação foi levada a cabo pelo mestre Luís Rodrigues, mestre de artes marciais, nascido no Porto em 1958, praticante de Shaolin desde 1978 e de Tai Chi desde 1992, altura em que foi estudar essa arte marcial para a China, em CHEN JIA GOU, dando, neste momento, aulas sobre essa arte marcial peculiar na sede nacional de Artes Marciais Chinesas do Porto, na Universidade Católica do Porto e, há mais de 20 anos, na Escola Secundária Aurélia de Sousa no Porto. Na sua interpelação, Luís Rodrigues explanou de uma forma natural e concisa, não só a origem do Tai Chi com as vantagens da sua prática para a saúde, quer física quer espiritual, para o ser humano: Um orador exímio que não se mostrou incomodado com algumas questões feitas pelo público e que terminou uma das melhores e mais interactivas sessões culturais do grupo, com uma pequena demonstração de Tai Chi: Uma demonstração que encerrou com chave de ouro uma noite fria de Dezembro, marcada não só pela euforia da época natalícia mas também pelo prazer da cultura, servida numa sessão memorável e extremamente interactiva e empolgante.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3233741416518386244-2322849022015032012?l=gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/feeds/2322849022015032012/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3233741416518386244&amp;postID=2322849022015032012' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/2322849022015032012'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/2322849022015032012'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/2007/03/o-grupo-tarde-e-ms-horas.html' title='O GRUPO &quot;TARDE E A MÁS HORAS&quot;'/><author><name>Zaratustra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07793740456607510269</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://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ax5j0jpLtHg/RfhnX2etvAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/4sI9lbkSd9s/s72-c/01.Declama%C3%A7%C3%A3o+da+Sara+Costa+(Camilo+Pessanha+goes+East).JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3233741416518386244.post-6451913622862100453</id><published>2007-03-08T03:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-08T03:55:46.240-08:00</updated><title type='text'>LEMBRAR ANTÓNIO RAMOS ROSA</title><content type='html'>Não posso adiar o amor para outro século&lt;br /&gt;não posso&lt;br /&gt;ainda que o grito sufoque na garganta&lt;br /&gt;ainda que o ódio estale e crepite e arda&lt;br /&gt;sob as montanhas cinzentas&lt;br /&gt;e montanhas cinzentas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não posso adiar este abraço&lt;br /&gt;que é uma arma de dois gumes&lt;br /&gt;amor e ódio&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não posso adiar&lt;br /&gt;ainda que a noite pese séculos sobre as costas&lt;br /&gt;e a aurora indecisa demore&lt;br /&gt;não posso adiar para outro século a minha vida&lt;br /&gt;nem o meu amor&lt;br /&gt;nem o meu grito de libertação&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;não posso adiar o coração&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;de &lt;em&gt;Viagem através de uma Nebulosa, &lt;/em&gt;1960&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3233741416518386244-6451913622862100453?l=gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/feeds/6451913622862100453/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3233741416518386244&amp;postID=6451913622862100453' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/6451913622862100453'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/6451913622862100453'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/2007/03/lembrar-antnio-ramos-rosa.html' title='LEMBRAR ANTÓNIO RAMOS ROSA'/><author><name>Zaratustra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07793740456607510269</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-3233741416518386244.post-4304933104409843575</id><published>2007-03-05T04:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-05T05:08:56.612-08:00</updated><title type='text'>TEM A PALAVRA A GARGANTA!...</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;C&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;omunicar foi, porventura, a descoberta mais surpreendente alguma vez feita pelo homem, desafiando até mesmo os limites da sua imaginação. Longe estaria de imaginar a mudança que esse poder iria trazer na sua vida e os desafios que iria causar à sua imaginação: Desde os tempos dos homens das cavernas, quando o homem começou a exprimir as suas ideias e visão do mundo através da palavra e do gesto, do desenho, passando mais tarde para a escrita, até descobrir aquela que é considerada a forma mais profunda e universal de comunicação que é a arte, como necessidade de integração e afirmação na sociedade donde vive e pertence e expressão concreta da sua forma de ver e sentir o real e o absoluto, que o homem nunca mais prescindiu dessa descoberta para a sua sobrevivência e meio de descoberta do universo e de si próprio.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saída das cinzas de um blog com o mesmo nome (apenas começando com o artigo definido feminino singular “a”), “Garganta do silêncio” pretende ser mais que um blog pessoal, fruto de um desejo narcisista de um umbigo escondido por detrás de uma máscara de sonhos, igual a tantas máscaras que ocultam a verdadeira cor dos nossos olhos, sufocam as nossas expressões e cobrem a essência do crepúsculo das sombras do ID, objecto de idolatria e centro falso de um universo que julgamos capazes de descrever numa partícula de um átomo ou numa minúscula casca de noz, a “Garganta” pretende ser neste universo de umbigos e de candeias por acender, um lago (não dos cisnes) no meio de desertos (sem camelos); uma luz ao fundo do túnel para todos os lados (ou para lado nenhum); uma voz por ouvir no meio de quatro paredes (sem tecto, pois as casas já são caras e o dinheiro já nem dá para alicerces quanto mais para tectos), uma palavra por beber, uma lágrima à procura de um olho.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É por essas razões que baptizei (na pia da minha casa-de-banho, pois não tinha dinheiro para pagar um baptismo a sério ao padre da paróquia da minha terra) este blog de “GARGANTA DO SILÊNCIO”: “Garganta” (sem ser funda…pronto, está bem: sem fundo (perdido)), como instrumento de trabalho de um dos mais preciosos dons que a natureza concedeu aos seres vivos que é a fala, e que permitiu o nascimento de um dos milagres (de Fátima, que não é de Felgueiras) que ultrapassou todas as barreiras (100 metros, pelo menos…) do senso comum e a própria imaginação (coitada!...ainda hoje está a estado de choque…): a Comunicação, e “do Silêncio”, como voz muda, mas autêntica, da verdadeira matéria-prima que busca no ser e na vida o sentido da sua forma e o relevo da sua essência (Channel n.º 5, no seu melhor) com o qual é moldada a arte. Trocando por miúdos (que não da Casa Pia…), GARGANTA DO SILÊNCIO pretende ser um canal para todos aqueles que procuram divulgar a sua veia artística e não são escutados, devido ao silêncio da indiferença e apatia de uma sociedade gasta pelo ácido do tédio e pela cegueira do seu próprio umbigo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Arte e a comunicação são assim fundidos (em lume brando…) num só (um, sai mais barato que dois, segundo a lógica da batata) num blog catalisador de textos em prosa, poemas, notícias de eventos, Humor, fotografia, pinturas, esculturas, manifestos, (ex) citações de autores conhecidos ou desconhecidos, não só publicados do autor desta blog (Semi-domesticado, Vacinado, criado e (in) cubado em cativeiro) mas por todos aqueles que desejem partilhar um pouco da sua veia artística, um pouco das suas lágrimas e sangue (que sempre faz jeito em minha casa para fazer arroz de cabidela), um pouco do seu silêncio, um pouco da sua arte, um pouco do nada que compõe esse grande absoluto que é o tudo, nesta (in) comunidade de todos, para todos e de ninguém.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Por isso, jovem: Tens mais de seis anos e menos de cem? Gostarias de chatear a tua família sem te meteres na droga e assaltar hipermercados e velhinhas à porta da igreja? Queres fazer uma promessa e achas Fátima ou o entroncamento muito longe para o fazeres? Tens poemas escritos e queres revelá-los sem seres acusado de homossexual/Lésbica/Frustrado(a) da vida pelo Opus Dei ou pela malta do teu bairro? Tens máquina fotográfica, estás farto de tirar fotografias a casamentos, Baptizados e à janela da vizinha do lado à espera que ela se dispa, e descobriste um Sebastião Salgado ou um Man Ray dentro de ti? Tens jeito para a pintura, uma costela de Picasso ou de Dali dentro de ti e gostarias de revelar o teu traço artístico sem precisar de expor em Serralves ou na colecção do Joe Berardo? Gostarias de desancar no Novalis, nos românticos, nos simbolistas, nos surrealistas e todos os movimentos artísticos terminados em “ismo” que não suportas e não tens voz? Tens uma aura de Fernando Pessoa ou de Herberto Hélder dentro de ti e gostarias de ver os teus textos em prosa e poemas publicados, assim como textos de escritores e poetas famosos que sempre quiseste conhecer e gostarias de ler para impressionar a tua namorada (o) (consoante os sexos e os gostos) só para ela/ele não ter a mania que tem mais cultura do que tu, só porque ganhou prémios literários, editou livros e lambe o chão por onde Saramago pisa com a sua própria língua, e poderes ganhar um pouco mais de cultura na tua cabeça e impressionar não só a ela mas o povo da tua terra e aquelas donas de casa que só conhecem cultura quando encontram essa palavra escrita na revista Maria ou na Caras? Estás farto de sair às sextas-feiras e sábados a noite, para apanhar bebedeiras de caixão á cova e levar tampas de mulheres cujo único fio de inteligência que os homens conhecem delas é o fio dental, e procuras algo completamente diferente e bom (que não seja um Ferrerro Rouché, trazido por um motorista com idade para ser o teu avô)? Suportas que a sociedade suicide Vah Gogh? Já estás farto de esperar pelo Sr. Godot, mesmo numa casa-de-banho pública? Gostarias de soltar o artista que há em ti, sem te preocupares se vais acabar como a Margarida Rebelo Pinto ou o Dan Brown? Choras por Offellias mesmo antes do primeiro acto e gostas de repetir Filoctetes? Então não esperes, não desesperes mais nem percas tempo…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JUNTA-TE À “GARGANTA”!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3233741416518386244-4304933104409843575?l=gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/feeds/4304933104409843575/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3233741416518386244&amp;postID=4304933104409843575' title='36 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/4304933104409843575'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3233741416518386244/posts/default/4304933104409843575'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gargantadosilencio.blogspot.com/2007/03/tem-palavra-garganta.html' title='TEM A PALAVRA A GARGANTA!...'/><author><name>Zaratustra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07793740456607510269</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>36</thr:total></entry></feed>
