Lukretiah

"Darwin: A Life in Poems"

2009-03-07T21:39:00.000-08:00

'On Not Thinking About Variation in Tortoise-Shell'

Pure volcano. A mantle of hot bare rock. "Nothing could be less
inviting. A broken field of black basaltic lava
thrown into most rugged waves and crossed
by fissures." Lava tubes, tuff cones and bright,
red-orange crabs. A land iguana! One saffron
leathery elbow, powdery as lichen, sticking out

like a man doing press-ups while leering at the sand.
And the marine iguana ... "Hideous! An imp of darkness.
On Albermarle they seem to grow to a larger size."
Young sea lions nip their tails for fun and fling them in the air
like cats with mice. To eat them? No — nothing here,
except one hawk, is carnivore; and none afraid of Man.

Look — giant tortoises! "Travelling eagerly, their necks
outstretched, to springs. I tried riding on their backs
but found it hard to balance! The colony's Vice-Governor
told us he knew which island any shell came from
because they differ. I did not for some time
pay this enough attention. I never dreamed

that islands sixty miles apart, made of the same stone,
of nearly equal height in the same climate,
could have different tenants." Fast forward twenty years
and you see him write of this scatter-burst of rock in open sea,
"We seem brought near that mystery of mysteries,
the first appearance of new beings on the earth."

Ruth Panel

"Darwin: A Life in Poems" is a book of poetry written by Ruth Panel, Charles Darwin's great-great-granddaughter. Its date of publication is March 2009.

http://www.nature.com/nature/journal/v457/n7231/full/457794a.html

Stephen Hawking Takes Zero-Gravity Flight!

2009-03-02T21:54:00.001-08:00

The real superman!

The Sun (Images from SOHO)

2009-03-02T21:21:00.000-08:00

For the latest pictures of the sun taken by SOHO (Solar and Heliospheric Observatory) check the Nasa site below:

http://sohowww.nascom.nasa.gov/data/realtime/

Dalí & Lorca

2009-01-05T14:40:00.000-08:00

“ODA A SALVADOR DALÍ”

—by Federico García Lorca

Una rosa en el alto jardín que tu deseas.
Una rueda en la pura sintaxis del acero.
Desnuda la montaña de niebla impresionista.
Los grises oteando sus balaustradas últimas.

Los pintores modernos, en sus blancos estudios,
cortan la flor aséptica de la raíz cuadrada.
En las aguas del Sena un iceberg de mármol
enfría las ventanas y disipa las yedras.

El hombre pisa fuerte las calles enlosadas.
Los cristales esquivan la magia del reflejo.
El Gobierno ha cerrado las tiendas de perfume.
La máquina eterniza sus compases binarios.

Una ausencia de bosques, biombos y entrecejos
yerra por los tejados de las casas antiguas.
El aire pulimenta su prisma sobre el mar
y el horizonte sube como un gran acueducto.

Marineros que ignoran el vino y la penumbra
decapitan sirenas en los mares de plomo.
La Noche, negra estatua de la prudencia, tiene
el espejo redondo de la luna en su mano.

Un deseo de formas y límites nos gana.
Viene el hombre que mira con el metro amarillo.
Venus es una blanca naturaleza muerta
y los coleccionistas de mariposas huyen.

*

Cadaqués, en el fiel del agua y la colina,
eleva escalinatas y oculta caracolas.
Las flautas de madera pacifican el aire.
Un viejo dios silvestre da frutas a los niños.

Sus pescadores duermen, sin ensueño, en la arena.
En alta mar les sirve de brújula una rosa.
El horizonte virgen de pañuelos heridos
junta los grandes vidrios del pez y de la luna.

Una dura corona de blancos bergantines
ciñe frentes amargas y cabellos de arena.
Las sirenas convencen, pero no sugestionan,
y salen si mostramos un vaso de agua dulce.

*

¡Oh Salvador Dalí, de voz aceitunada!
No elogio tu imperfecto pincel adolescente
ni tu color que ronda la color de tu tiempo,
pero alabo tus ansias de eterno limitado.

Alma higiénica, vives sobre mármoles nuevos.
Huyes la oscura selva de formas increíbles.
Tu fantasía llega donde llegan tus manos,
y gozas el soneto del mar en tu ventana.

El mundo tiene sordas penumbras y desorden,
en los primeros términos que el humano frecuenta.
Pero ya las estrellas ocultando paisajes,
señalan el esquema perfecto de sus órbitas.

La corriente del tiempo se remansa y ordena
en las formas numéricas de un siglo y otro siglo.
Y la Muerte vencida se refugia temblando
en el círculo estrecho del minuto presente.

Al coger tu paleta, con un tiro en un ala,
pides la luz que anima la copa del olivo.
Ancha luz de Minerva, constructora de andamios,
donde no cabe el sueño ni su flora inexacta.

Pides la luz antigua que se queda en la frente,
sin bajar a la boca ni al corazón del hombre.
Luz que temen las vides entrañables de Baco
y la fuerza sin orden que lleva el agua curva.

Haces bien en poner banderines de aviso,
en el límite oscuro que relumbra de noche.
Como pintor no quieres que te ablande la forma
el algodón cambiante de una nube imprevista.

El pez en la pecera y el pájaro en la jaula.
No quieres inventarlos en el mar o en el viento.
Estilizas o copias después de haber mirado
con honestas pupilas sus cuerpecillos ágiles.

Amas una materia definida y exacta
donde el hongo no pueda poner su campamento.
Amas la arquitectura que construye en lo ausente
y admites la bandera como una simple broma.

Dice el compás de acero su corto verso elástico.
Desconocidas islas desmienten ya la esfera.
Dice la línea recta su vertical esfuerzo
y los sabios cristales cantan sus geometrías.

*

Pero también la rosa del jardín donde vives.
¡Siempre la rosa, siempre, norte y sur de nosotros!
Tranquila y concentrada como una estatua ciega,
ignorante de esfuerzos soterrados que causa.

Rosa pura que limpia de artificios y croquis
y nos abre las alas tenues de la sonrisa.
(Mariposa clavada que medita su vuelo.)
Rosa del equilibrio sin dolores buscados.
¡Siempre la rosa!

*

¡Oh Salvador Dalí de voz aceitunada!
Digo lo que me dicen tu persona y tus cuadros.
No alabo tu imperfecto pincel adolescente,
pero canto la firme dirección de tus flechas.

Canto tu bello esfuerzo de luces catalanas,
tu amor a lo que tiene explicación posible.
Canto tu corazón astronómico y tierno,
de baraja francesa y sin ninguna herida.

Canto el ansia de estatua que persigues sin tregua
el miedo a la emoción que te aguarda en la calle.
Canto la sirenita de la mar que te canta
montada en bicicleta de corales y conchas.

Pero ante todo canto un común pensamiento
que nos une en las horas oscuras y doradas.
No es el Arte la luz que nos ciega los ojos.
Es primero el amor, la amistad o la esgrima.

Es primero que el cuadro que paciente dibujas
el seno de Teresa, la de cutis insomne,
el apretado bucle de Matilde la ingrata,
nuestra amistad pintada como un juego de oca.

Huellas dactilográficas de sangre sobre el oro
rayen el corazón de Cataluña eterna.
Estrellas como puños sin halcón te relumbren,
mientras que tu pintura y tu vida florecen.

No mires la clepsidra con alas membranosas,
ni la dura guadaña de las alegorías.
Viste y desnuda siempre tu pincel en el aire,
frente a la mar poblada con barcos y marinos.

[publicada en Revista de Occidente, Madrid, abril 1926]

Stereophonics - "Mr Writer"

2008-12-02T11:38:00.001-08:00

Yes, I love clowns. And love this band.
Great video, amazing colors!

Richard Wright: Black Boy (4 of 5)

2008-11-17T21:29:00.001-08:00

One of my favorite writers of all time!!!

俳句

2008-10-21T23:10:00.000-07:00

El intento, como

huellas de cangrejo en la
arena, mapea.

Nine Inch Nails- The Vessel (Izod Center - 08-27-08)

2008-08-28T18:33:00.001-07:00

Trent, oh my god!!!

NIN - Ghosts

2008-08-28T09:08:00.000-07:00

Photography by Denise G. Monteiro

Кино - Звезда по имени солнце

2008-08-15T20:08:00.005-07:00

Great Russian band from the '80s.

Viktor Tsoy, you are missed!

Step Up - This Picture

2008-08-15T19:38:00.001-07:00

This Picture's first album "Violent Impression" (1991) is one of my very favorite records. Too bad they dissapeared!

Artist Journal 2008

2008-08-11T10:23:00.000-07:00

www.1001journals.com

www.1001journals.com/journals/2658/

By Denise G. Monteiro

The Moon, Nuclear Fusion, & Helium 3 (Part 3)

2008-08-11T10:19:00.000-07:00

The Moon, Nuclear Fusion, & Helium 3 (Part 2)

2008-08-11T10:16:00.000-07:00

Wow!

The Moon, Nuclear Fusion, & Helium 3 (Part 1)

2008-08-11T09:55:00.000-07:00

Amazing!

Cars of The Future

2008-08-11T09:34:00.000-07:00

Pieter Bruegel

2008-08-11T09:01:00.000-07:00

"The Fight Between Carnival and Lent" (1559) - Pieter Bruegel

2008-08-07T10:39:00.001-07:00

By Denise G. Monteiro

On Imagination- Phillis Wheatley

2008-08-06T22:11:00.000-07:00

On Imagination

Thy various works, imperial queen, we see,
How bright their forms! how deck'd with pomp by thee!
Thy wond'rous acts in beauteous order stand,
And all attest how potent is thine hand.

From Helicon's refulgent heights attend,
Ye sacred choir, and my attempts befriend:
To tell her glories with a faithful tongue,
Ye blooming graces, triumph in my song.

Now here, now there, the roving Fancy flies,
Till some lov'd object strikes her wand'ring eyes,
Whose silken fetters all the senses bind,
And soft captivity involves the mind.

Imagination! who can sing thy force?
Or who describe the swiftness of thy course?
Soaring through air to find the bright abode,
Th' empyreal palace of the thund'ring God,
We on thy pinions can surpass the wind,
And leave the rolling universe behind:
>From star to star the mental optics rove,
Measure the skies, and range the realms above.
There in one view we grasp the mighty whole,
Or with new worlds amaze th' unbounded soul.

Though Winter frowns to Fancy's raptur'd eyes
The fields may flourish, and gay scenes arise;
The frozen deeps may break their iron bands,
And bid their waters murmur o'er the sands.
Fair Flora may resume her fragrant reign,
And with her flow'ry riches deck the plain;
Sylvanus may diffuse his honours round,
And all the forest may with leaves be crown'd:
Show'rs may descend, and dews their gems disclose,
And nectar sparkle on the blooming rose.

Such is thy pow'r, nor are thine orders vain,
O thou the leader of the mental train:
In full perfection all thy works are wrought,
And thine the sceptre o'er the realms of thought.
Before thy throne the subject-passions bow,
Of subject-passions sov'reign ruler thou;
At thy command joy rushes on the heart,
And through the glowing veins the spirits dart.

Fancy might now her silken pinions try
To rise from earth, and sweep th' expanse on high:
>From Tithon's bed now might Aurora rise,
Her cheeks all glowing with celestial dies,
While a pure stream of light o'erflows the skies.
The monarch of the day I might behold,
And all the mountains tipt with radiant gold,
But I reluctant leave the pleasing views,
Which Fancy dresses to delight the Muse;
Winter austere forbids me to aspire,
And northern tempests damp the rising fire;
They chill the tides of Fancy's flowing sea,
Cease then, my song, cease the unequal lay.

Phillis Wheatley

Hammer Rails (Haiku #2 俳句)

2008-08-06T22:08:00.000-07:00

Hammer Rails

Instances of claws:
Phalanges scratching keybeds,
Poised upon lifting hips.

俳句

By Denise G. Monteiro

Artist Journal

2008-08-04T22:10:00.001-07:00

By Denise G. Monteiro

Miranda...

2008-08-04T21:28:00.001-07:00

My 15 years old cat Miranda is a little sick...

Summer Moments

2008-08-04T20:08:00.000-07:00

Photography by Denise G. Monteiro

"Pomar" - (Haiku #1 俳句)

2008-08-03T00:27:00.000-07:00

POMAR

Pelvic bones aligned
To tree roots that grow to fruit
And tint cyclic grounds.

俳句

By Denise G. Monteiro

Moment of Transition - Dali

2008-08-03T00:26:00.001-07:00

2008-07-29T23:47:00.000-07:00

2008-07-29T23:20:00.000-07:00

2008-07-29T23:12:00.000-07:00

2008-07-29T22:36:00.000-07:00

By Denise G. Monteiro

2008-06-13T11:27:00.000-07:00

Global Mondays

2008-05-09T00:34:00.000-07:00

Bia: Superstar!

2008-05-03T20:51:00.000-07:00

2008-04-29T11:42:00.000-07:00

MFA Boston: El Greco To Velazquez exhibition

2008-04-26T19:30:00.001-07:00

La Phaze!!!!

2008-04-17T15:02:00.001-07:00

Amazing French Rock crazy beats!!!

The Little Prince

2008-04-15T21:11:00.000-07:00

“Les enfants seuls savent ce qu'ils cherchent.”

2008-04-11T23:53:00.000-07:00

I Think Continually Of Those Who Were Truly Great

by Stephen Spender

I think continually of those who were truly great.
Who, from the womb, remembered the soul's history
Through corridors of light where the hours are suns
Endless and singing. Whose lovely ambition
Was that their lips, still touched with fire,
Should tell of the Spirit clothed from head to foot in song.
And who hoarded from the Spring branches
The desires falling across their bodies like blossoms.

What is precious is never to forget
The essential delight of the blood drawn from ageless springs
Breaking through rocks in worlds before our earth.
Never to deny its pleasure in the morning simple light
Nor its grave evening demand for love.
Never to allow gradually the traffic to smother
With noise and fog the flowering of the spirit.

Near the snow, near the sun, in the highest fields
See how these names are fŠted by the waving grass
And by the streamers of white cloud
And whispers of wind in the listening sky.
The names of those who in their lives fought for life
Who wore at their hearts the fire's center.
Born of the sun they traveled a short while towards the sun,
And left the vivid air signed with their honor.

JAMES - Hey Ma

2008-04-08T21:53:00.000-07:00

Bubbles

Take an axe to your past
To your family tree
Carve a face from the wood
An effigy

Make wings from the leaves
Hide from the bark
Kindling
for the hair
Rose for his heart

Someone to draw you right
Someone to catch the light

Draw the blue from the skies
into his eyes
Carve the lines on his face
A map of the race

Juice from the root of a beet for his skin
Set the tides
of the blood
with the pulse of the drum

Someone to draw you right
Someone to catch the light
I’m alive
I’m alive

Wash the boy in the stream
So tenderly
Press his lips to your lips
Give him your breath
He awakes with the weight
of the vision he holds
Sees the rent in time
through which he must fold

Someone to draw you right
Someone to catch the light
I’m alive
I’m alive…

Stir the heart with a drum
Kiss smoke in his mouth
Show him signs of a life
That’s a whole lot better

And he calls down the rain
Tornadoes & hurricanes
There’s a world in his veins
That’s a whole lot better
I’m alive
I’m alive…

Fingers raised to the sky
A snake for a spine
He’s drunk on a life
That’s a whole lot better

Teach him songs of the bees
Double helix and honey comb
Play him wind through the leaves
That’s a whole lot better
Alive, I’m alive….

http://www.wearejames.com

"Penetra Surdamente No Reino Das Palavras!"

2008-03-22T00:19:00.000-07:00

Boys Will Be Boys...

2008-03-21T23:49:00.000-07:00

Ghosts

2008-03-14T08:04:00.000-07:00

http://ghosts.nin.com/main/player

Hoje é Dia de Maria - Vem Maria, Vai

2008-03-12T14:57:00.001-07:00

Amazing brazilian miniseries!

Hoje é dia de Maria

2008-03-12T14:34:00.005-07:00

Great brazilian miniseries!

Hoje é Dia de Maria - "Vem Maria, Vai"

2008-03-12T14:34:00.003-07:00

Brazilian miniseries.

Hoje é Dia de Maria- "Poema de Quirino"

2008-03-12T14:34:00.001-07:00

Amazing brazilian miniseries.

Sepia & Color

2008-03-11T09:40:00.000-07:00

Artist journal in progress...

Cerati

2008-03-10T08:42:00.000-07:00

Gustavo Cerati from Soda Stereo - Central Park, NYC 2006

Photography by Denise G. Monteiro

John and James

2008-03-07T09:34:00.001-08:00

My gorgeous nephews...

Playing The Angel 2005

2008-03-07T09:17:00.000-08:00

"My joy, the air that I breath, my joy. You move me." "My Joy" - Depeche Mode

Peter Beard Diaries

2008-03-07T08:59:00.001-08:00

Peter Beard

2008-03-07T08:28:00.000-08:00

"If Michelangelo had a (film) camera or a Nikon he woulnd't be chipping rocks." Peter Beard

www.peterbeard.com

Walt Whitman's 'America' - A Rare Wax Recording (1890)

2008-03-04T10:33:00.001-08:00

It's so amazing to hear the voice of this master of words. Long live "Leaves Of Grass."

Howl Part 1 by Allen Ginsberg

2008-03-04T10:07:00.001-08:00

Eye Love

2008-03-01T22:49:00.001-08:00

Experimental animation by Denise G. Monteiro

Iggy Pop

2008-02-29T23:55:00.001-08:00

Photography by Denise G. Monteiro

www.theabsence.iwarp.com

2008-02-29T23:34:00.000-08:00

Drawing by Adriano, the sinister duck - www.myspace.com/thepitiless

Joel-Peter Witkins

2008-02-29T11:14:00.001-08:00

Pretty grotesque photography by Joel-Peter Witkins

Closer - Nine Inch Nails

2008-02-29T11:11:00.001-08:00

This video reminds me of Joel-Peter Witkins work...

2008-02-29T11:05:00.000-08:00

Photography by Denise G. Monteiro

Artist Journal - www.1001Journals.com

2008-02-29T10:58:00.000-08:00

In progress...

Henri Cartier-Bresson

2008-02-29T10:23:00.000-08:00

"To photograph is to hold one's breath, when all faculties converge to capture fleeting reality. It's at that precise moment that mastering an image becomes a great physical and intellectual joy."

Henry Cartier-Bresson

Paris Fashion Week- Fall 2008

2008-02-28T17:32:00.001-08:00

Junya Watanabe

Issey Miyake

Comme Des Garçons

Stella McCartney

The future look of fashion now.

La Phaze - Cushy Time (Live Version)

2008-02-28T17:23:00.001-08:00

One of my favorite songs of the moment. I met the singer of La Phaze when he was touring with Manu Chao. He told me about his crazy ass band and they have become of of my favorite. La Phaze was opening for Gogol Bordello in their 2007 European tour.

Bob Marley "Misty Morning"

2008-02-28T17:15:00.001-08:00

Misty mornin', don't see no sun;
I know you're out there somewhere having fun.
There is one mystery - yea-ea-eah - I just can't express:
To give your more, to receive your less.
One of my good friend said, in a reggae riddim,
"Don't jump in the water, if you can't swim."
The power of philosophy - yea-ea-eah - floats through my head
Light like a feather, heavy as lead;
Light like a feather, heavy as lead, yeah.

See no sun! Oh.
Time has come, I want you -
I want you to straighten out my tomorrow! Uh.
I want - I want - I want you - (tomorrow).
Oh, wo-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah!
I want you to straighten out my (tomorrow)!

Misty (morning) mornin', don't see no sun;
I know you're out there somewhere having fun.
Mysteries I just can't express:
How can you ever give your more to receive your less?
Like my good friend said, in a reggae riddim:
"You can't jump - you can't jump in the water, if you can't swim."

I want you (I want you) - I want you to straighten out my today -
My tomorrow - my-my-my - my - my
(I want you to straighten out my tomorrow).
On a misty morning, uh! (I want you to straighten out my tomorrow).
Oh-oh oh-oh-oh-oh!
(I want you to straighten out my tomorrow)
Straighten out my tomorrow - my tomorrow! Need some straightenin' out!
(I want you to straighten out my tomorrow)
Mist! Mm. (I want) Mist! (you to straighten out my tomorrow)
Misty! Oh! (I want you to straighten out my tomorrow)

John Lee Hooker - Tupelo (1995)

2008-02-28T17:00:00.001-08:00

"He Looked out; his house was about twelve feet above the water. And water was everywhere. Yellow water. Swirling water. Droning water. For four long days and nights it had been there, flowing past. For a moment he had the illusion that that water had always been there, and would always be there. Yes, it seemed that the water had always been there and this was just the first time he had noticed it. Mabbe somebody jus dropped them houses n trees down inter tha watah..." "Down By The Riverside" by Richard Wright

"Tupelo" by John Lee Hooker

2008-02-28T16:48:00.001-08:00

This is one of favorite blues songs of all time. Makes me think of New Orleans and Richard Wright short story from the existentiast Uncle Tom's Children titled "Down By The Riverside."

Fab Tree Hab designed by Joachim Mitchell

2008-02-28T12:29:00.001-08:00

http://www.archinode.com/

2008-02-28T12:15:00.000-08:00

Fab Tree Hab: The future of the "green" home.

Roma, Città Aperta - Italian Neorealism

2008-02-28T12:07:00.001-08:00

Rossellini neorealimsm masterpiece!

"Rome: Open City"

2008-02-28T11:36:00.000-08:00

"Rome: Open City" directed by Roberto Rossellini, 1945.

Depeche Mode, now and forever.

2008-02-26T11:39:00.001-08:00

Photography by Denise G. Monteiro

Artist Journal

2008-02-26T11:32:00.000-08:00

Images from my 2008 artist journal, in progress...

Extraordinary Bodies: Mütter Museum Photographs, Exhibit Opening

2008-02-26T11:00:00.000-08:00

February 29th, 2008, Mutter Museum Photo Exhibition Opening

Кино

2008-02-26T10:47:00.000-08:00

Viktor Tsoy: leader of Russian rock band Kino and one of the pioneers of russian rock music.

After ten albums and contribution to different forms of art, he died in car accident in August 15th, 1990.

This is a great site to explore his music:

http:/www.mirkino.net/disc.html

2008-02-26T10:36:00.001-08:00

1001 Journals

2008-02-26T10:14:00.000-08:00

Great inspiring idea!