<?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-19122922</id><updated>2011-07-29T00:59:00.595+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Ergopoewords</title><subtitle type='html'>ErgodicAmorphouspoeticwords.world.work. 
Describe&gt; myself+yourself
Images/clouds/sky/japanesedeepblue/ocean/
YvesKlein/
Anthropometrie1960/
1+9+6+0=16/16words/16syllables/
+one=5/7/5&gt;&gt;Basho's
This autumn/
Why am I aging so?/
Flying towards the clouds, a bird!I.need.wings/WingsOfDesire/WinWenders/
WWW.ergopoewords.blogspot.com&gt;&gt;me.myself.I.Erica</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19122922/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Erica Kaminishi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15361351378767141959</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>45</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19122922.post-8740533787730355470</id><published>2011-07-17T17:21:00.013+09:00</published><updated>2011-07-17T22:39:05.579+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Palavra como imagem</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YeKbw0gs-h4/TiKhqL52vvI/AAAAAAAAARI/1tXoxFgZqbk/s1600/sutasoma%2Bstory%2BWork%2Bof%2BTantular.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YeKbw0gs-h4/TiKhqL52vvI/AAAAAAAAARI/1tXoxFgZqbk/s400/sutasoma%2Bstory%2BWork%2Bof%2BTantular.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5630240230288572146" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-mndusezTDBc/TiKhYMnCqeI/AAAAAAAAARA/l14JNGPW2rY/s1600/sutasoma%2Bstory%2BWork%2Bof%2BTantular2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 283px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-mndusezTDBc/TiKhYMnCqeI/AAAAAAAAARA/l14JNGPW2rY/s400/sutasoma%2Bstory%2BWork%2Bof%2BTantular2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5630239921240451554" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Vez ou outra apareço aqui...&lt;br /&gt;Voltei a pesquisar sobre a Palavra como imagem. Quem sabe, não vira tema para uma pesquisa mais séria, dando continuidade à pesquisa do meu mestrado (Caminhos In(versos): A Intertextualidade da Palavra como Imagem)&lt;br /&gt;Dias atrás, encontrei por acaso esta imagem (acima) de uma escritura sagrada Hindu (está em Sânscrito, não sei direito). Não é bárbaro? Segundo a descrição do &lt;a href="http://dewasugi.blog103.fc2.com/blog-category-2.html"&gt;site&lt;/a&gt;, foi feita no Século 14 por Tantular, e é o primeiro de uma série que narra as &lt;a href="http://www.ignca.nic.in/jatak063.htm"&gt;Estórias de Sutasoma&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Mas não é algo único ou excepcional. Acredito que dentro do Budismo e suas ramificações, a prática era comum. No Japão, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="st"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;a primeira vez que vi pinturas como a feita por Tantular, foi na província de Iwate, ao norte do país, no museu do templo &lt;a href="http://www.chusonji.or.jp/en/index.html"&gt;Chuson-Ji&lt;/a&gt;, tombado pela Unesco como patrimônio da Humanidade. Foi há uns quatro anos atrás, e amor à primeira vista, porque desconhecia estas obras. Como não me identificar?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Senti aquele êxtase, de quase chorar ao vê-las pela primeira vez. E senti satisfação  porque o que eu venho fazendo está ligado profundamente à Cultura Japonesa, principalmente à alguns conceitos do Budismo. Foi como um "resgate inconsciente".&lt;br /&gt;O povo japonês é extremamente gestual, e as palavras estão inseridas em sua cultura/vida de tal forma que é difícil falar de um sem mencionar o outro. Tal qual, basta ler o livro "Ideograma" do grande Haroldo de Campos...&lt;br /&gt;Enfim, acho que na Cultura japonesa, esta questão da palavra ser/como imagem não gera tantos debates, mesmo porque o próprio ideograma já é um desenho. Esta junção "palavra/imagem" está tão enraizado na vida das pessoas, que minhas "conceituações" blefa com o ordinário...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MgdR-nI4g48/TiKnrDvDRoI/AAAAAAAAARY/Rk9iuiSwy70/s1600/konkomyo_mandara.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 151px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MgdR-nI4g48/TiKnrDvDRoI/AAAAAAAAARY/Rk9iuiSwy70/s400/konkomyo_mandara.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5630246842345408130" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-DQz85tmOH1g/TiLfCMwyt-I/AAAAAAAAARg/OP0bKFqDzzY/s1600/konkomyo_mandara2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 370px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-DQz85tmOH1g/TiLfCMwyt-I/AAAAAAAAARg/OP0bKFqDzzY/s400/konkomyo_mandara2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5630307713045149666" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;A pintura acima chama-se &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.do-be.jp/hiraizumi/chusonji.html"&gt;金光明最勝王経金字宝塔曼荼羅&lt;/a&gt;&lt;b style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; &lt;/b&gt;こんこうみょう さいしょうおうきょう きんじ ほうとう まんだら ou Konkoumyousaishououkyoukinjihoutoumandara,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="st"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; e é considerada Tesouro Nacional Japonês.  É do período Heian, Século 2 (Dá para imaginar??). A imagem central do templo, é feita toda por ideogramas, dos sutras sagrados, escritas uma ao lado da outra, constituindo todo o plano central. E é toda pintada em ouro. No Museu, há outras pinturas, manuscritos, fascinantes, de deixar Meyer Schapiro boquiaberto!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;No Japão pelo menos, há ainda a prática do &lt;a style="font-style: italic;" href="http://www.theartofcalligraphy.com/sutracopying.html"&gt;shakyo&lt;/a&gt; (&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="st"  style="font-size:85%;"&gt;写経) que nada mais é a cópia dos sutras sagrados...&lt;br /&gt;Talvez seja por isto que a cultura japonesa esteja tão ligada às "palavras"...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19122922-8740533787730355470?l=ergopoewords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/feeds/8740533787730355470/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19122922&amp;postID=8740533787730355470' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19122922/posts/default/8740533787730355470'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19122922/posts/default/8740533787730355470'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/2011/07/palavra-como-imagem.html' title='Palavra como imagem'/><author><name>Erica Kaminishi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15361351378767141959</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/-YeKbw0gs-h4/TiKhqL52vvI/AAAAAAAAARI/1tXoxFgZqbk/s72-c/sutasoma%2Bstory%2BWork%2Bof%2BTantular.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19122922.post-8502539106296678749</id><published>2010-02-27T11:10:00.004+09:00</published><updated>2010-02-27T11:19:10.945+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Quem pranta, coie...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hxpplyVin58/S4iATVz1_TI/AAAAAAAAAHw/TqKHCdIq7g0/s1600-h/repolho.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5442741219437706546" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hxpplyVin58/S4iATVz1_TI/AAAAAAAAAHw/TqKHCdIq7g0/s320/repolho.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Pobres das flores nos canteiros dos jardins regulares.&lt;br /&gt;Parecem ter medo da polícia...&lt;br /&gt;Mas tão boas que florescem do mesmo modo&lt;br /&gt;E têm o mesmo sorriso antigo&lt;br /&gt;Que tiveram para o primeiro olhar do primeiro homem&lt;br /&gt;Que as viu aparecidas e lhes tocou levemente&lt;br /&gt;Para ver se elas falavam..." &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;(Alberto Caeiro/Fernando Pessoa)&lt;/span&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://www.clicknoticia.com.br/default.asp?not_codigo=1056"&gt;Dica para gerar idéias!&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19122922-8502539106296678749?l=ergopoewords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/feeds/8502539106296678749/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19122922&amp;postID=8502539106296678749' title='41 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19122922/posts/default/8502539106296678749'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19122922/posts/default/8502539106296678749'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/2010/02/quem-pranta-coie.html' title='Quem pranta, coie...'/><author><name>Erica Kaminishi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15361351378767141959</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/_hxpplyVin58/S4iATVz1_TI/AAAAAAAAAHw/TqKHCdIq7g0/s72-c/repolho.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>41</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19122922.post-1949703362498886955</id><published>2010-02-19T22:05:00.006+09:00</published><updated>2010-02-19T22:25:20.289+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Ulula para lá, ulula para cá...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hxpplyVin58/S36PzSwHVUI/AAAAAAAAAHo/g9ufOmh4Oos/s1600-h/04-007h_700.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 194px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439943511279883586" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hxpplyVin58/S36PzSwHVUI/AAAAAAAAAHo/g9ufOmh4Oos/s320/04-007h_700.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div&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;Vida e obra se entrelaçam. Ler &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.alberto.manguel.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Alberto Manguel &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;é compreender que o fluxo de suas palavras percorrem vias por ele vividas também.... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Afinal, como nos definimos? Pela nacionalidade? Pela língua? Pelo sangue?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Acho que sou uma ameba ululante no ínfimo do meu umbigo fundo...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Mas todo lar é um lugar imaginário. Temos lembranças de nossa infância, de um cheiro vago que permeia somente nossa memória....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;“… Vivemos num mundo de fronteiras e identidades fluidas. Os fluxos vagarosos de migração e conquista que definiram o aspecto da terra por milhares de anos aceleraram-se cem vezes nas últimas décadas, a tal ponto que, como num filme projetado em velocidade rápida, nada nem ninguém parecem se fixar por muito tempo num mesmo lugar. Ligados a certo espaço pelo nascimento, por laços de sangue, afeições cultivadas ou necessidades adquiridas, deixamos para trás ou somos forçados a deixar para trás esses laços e partir para outros vínculos e lealdades, que, por sua vez, também entrarão em movimento, aproximando-se ou distanciando-se de um centro imaginário. Esses movimentos causam angústia individual e coletiva. Individualmente, porque nossa identidade se altera com o deslocamento. Deixamos nossos lares à força ou de livre e espontânea vontade, como exilados ou refugiados, ou emigrantes, ou viajantes, ameaçados e perseguidos em nossa terra natal, ou simplesmente atraídos por outras paisagens e civilizações. Socialmente, porque, mesmo se ficarmos, veremos nosso lar se transformar. A chegada de novas culturas, os estragos da guerra e da indústria, as divisões políticas e os reagrupamentos étnicos, as estratégias das empresas multinacionais e do comércio global, tudo torna difícil o apego prolongado a uma definição compartilhada de nacionalidade. Se nunca foi fácil responder à questão terrível que a Lagarta faz a Alice no País das Maravilhas, no universo caleidoscópico de hoje ela se tornou tão precária que quase soa absurda: “Quem é você?” Cidade das Palavras p.128&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&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/19122922-1949703362498886955?l=ergopoewords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/feeds/1949703362498886955/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19122922&amp;postID=1949703362498886955' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19122922/posts/default/1949703362498886955'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19122922/posts/default/1949703362498886955'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/2010/02/vida-e-obra-se-entrelacam.html' title='Ulula para lá, ulula para cá...'/><author><name>Erica Kaminishi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15361351378767141959</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/_hxpplyVin58/S36PzSwHVUI/AAAAAAAAAHo/g9ufOmh4Oos/s72-c/04-007h_700.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19122922.post-4849072670900096951</id><published>2009-07-22T16:51:00.010+09:00</published><updated>2009-07-24T10:28:27.852+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Sapa</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hxpplyVin58/SmbK-uvzcvI/AAAAAAAAAHg/2D6dCUr2KWk/s1600-h/Vietnam09_261%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 272px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hxpplyVin58/SmbK-uvzcvI/AAAAAAAAAHg/2D6dCUr2KWk/s400/Vietnam09_261%5B1%5D.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361195585480389362" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Florian Formanek© 2009 All rights reserved&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Há tempos planejo um site/blog sobre a Asia e todas as suas formas, cores e cheiros.&lt;br /&gt;Ela é de Sapa, extremo norte do Vietnã, da etnia dos Black Hmong.&lt;br /&gt;Não acham que ela é mais fashion que &lt;a href="http://www.style.com/fashionshows/review/F2002RTW-HCHALAYA/"&gt;Hussein Chalayan&lt;/a&gt;?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Mais &lt;a href="http://florian.formanek.free.fr/album/thumbnails.php?album=35"&gt;fotos do Vietnã&lt;/a&gt; estão no site pessoal do Florian &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19122922-4849072670900096951?l=ergopoewords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/feeds/4849072670900096951/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19122922&amp;postID=4849072670900096951' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19122922/posts/default/4849072670900096951'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19122922/posts/default/4849072670900096951'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/2009/07/sapa.html' title='Sapa'/><author><name>Erica Kaminishi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15361351378767141959</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/_hxpplyVin58/SmbK-uvzcvI/AAAAAAAAAHg/2D6dCUr2KWk/s72-c/Vietnam09_261%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19122922.post-5861117198929864789</id><published>2009-07-21T14:35:00.007+09:00</published><updated>2009-07-21T14:48:00.887+09:00</updated><title type='text'>E mais duas pitadas de conium</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hxpplyVin58/SmVWc7aDJNI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/bsUvgQBCnfE/s1600-h/410px-264_Conium_maculatum.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 274px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hxpplyVin58/SmVWc7aDJNI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/bsUvgQBCnfE/s400/410px-264_Conium_maculatum.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360785986437719250" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Para tudo nesta vida há uma receita: receita para ficar rico, receita para emagrecer, receita para ser feliz.&lt;br /&gt;Então hoje li um poeta dizer: um copo de mar....&lt;br /&gt;Dai me perguntei. Como morrer afogado em 200 ml de narcisismo?&lt;br /&gt;Sabe naqueles copinhos americanos?&lt;br /&gt;Que bote ai um pingado de doçura, pelo menos não morre desidratado...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19122922-5861117198929864789?l=ergopoewords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/feeds/5861117198929864789/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19122922&amp;postID=5861117198929864789' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19122922/posts/default/5861117198929864789'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19122922/posts/default/5861117198929864789'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/2009/07/e-mais-duas-pitadas-de-conium.html' title='E mais duas pitadas de conium'/><author><name>Erica Kaminishi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15361351378767141959</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/_hxpplyVin58/SmVWc7aDJNI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/bsUvgQBCnfE/s72-c/410px-264_Conium_maculatum.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19122922.post-6385865588552058879</id><published>2008-11-12T11:47:00.009+09:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T15:46:58.163+09:00</updated><title type='text'>weed</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hxpplyVin58/SRpEEu3PMDI/AAAAAAAAAE4/vQDi192SGr4/s1600-h/daninhas9.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267597562253094962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hxpplyVin58/SRpEEu3PMDI/AAAAAAAAAE4/vQDi192SGr4/s400/daninhas9.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Eu estou num estado passivo... Nada me afeta, nada me emociona, nadica de nada... será angústia pós-parto? Parideira de idéias inúteis, e aqui estou jaz... como uma sementinha esperando um chuvisco, uma bobeira para ao menos germinar.&lt;br /&gt;Da próxima vez, já prometi! Vou reencarnar como uma pedra, assim fico imune a todos os efeitos mundanos. E se alguém um dia esbarrar em mim e der aquele chute de vitória, vou estar lá, sorrindo, pelo dedo doido do infeliz que um dia cruzou meu caminho.&lt;br /&gt;Mas cá entre nós, sou traidora da minha própria categoria. E por acaso sou categorizável? Acho que sou da espécie das ervas daninhas, aquelas quase onipresentes... Mas no final, todo mundo não tem nem nome, é tudo uma plantação de alfacezinha ou de repolhinho afogado ( ou melhor refogado ) em sua própria existência.&lt;br /&gt;Já disse! Estou neste marasmo de fazer qualquer um dizer; ai que preguiça! Bocejo longo, vou logo inventando alguma desculpa para fugir das pendências! E sempre tem coisa me olhando, esperando a hora fortuita para me chamar!&lt;br /&gt;Chama daqui, olha dali! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Mas hoje vou tirar o dia para dizer coisas desconexas. Falar besteiras para ver se alguma idéia brota das profundezas do além. Salve! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Ai, quanta bogagem!&lt;br /&gt;Que desperdício de tempo! Acho que vou dormir...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19122922-6385865588552058879?l=ergopoewords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/feeds/6385865588552058879/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19122922&amp;postID=6385865588552058879' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19122922/posts/default/6385865588552058879'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19122922/posts/default/6385865588552058879'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/2008/11/weed.html' title='weed'/><author><name>Erica Kaminishi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15361351378767141959</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/_hxpplyVin58/SRpEEu3PMDI/AAAAAAAAAE4/vQDi192SGr4/s72-c/daninhas9.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19122922.post-1514957688391244877</id><published>2008-10-22T13:09:00.009+09:00</published><updated>2008-10-23T09:21:08.613+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Ressonância</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hxpplyVin58/SP_DZvL_SuI/AAAAAAAAAEw/Lt6Lr2WVbH4/s1600-h/Resize+of+IMG_7181.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260137736722926306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hxpplyVin58/SP_DZvL_SuI/AAAAAAAAAEw/Lt6Lr2WVbH4/s400/Resize+of+IMG_7181.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"  style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Eu sou, tu és, ele é, Nós somos, Vós sois, Eles são.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Do verbo ser, pondera a primeira pessoa em grau de importância.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Eu sou, sou eu, eu e mais eus.&lt;br /&gt;Tú à espreita, esperas meu amor egoísta &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;acalmar, para se auto estimar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Mas as horas voam com os vós, ínfimos quase inexistentes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Eles vão e tu ficas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Do eu ao tu, sou mais eu e neste meio, nem mesmo nós somos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;E tu como ficas?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Afogado em seu és,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"  style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; és e &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"  style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;és&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;?xml:namespace prefix = o /&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&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/19122922-1514957688391244877?l=ergopoewords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/feeds/1514957688391244877/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19122922&amp;postID=1514957688391244877' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19122922/posts/default/1514957688391244877'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19122922/posts/default/1514957688391244877'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/2008/10/ressonncia.html' title='Ressonância'/><author><name>Erica Kaminishi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15361351378767141959</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/_hxpplyVin58/SP_DZvL_SuI/AAAAAAAAAEw/Lt6Lr2WVbH4/s72-c/Resize+of+IMG_7181.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19122922.post-7780284007441601462</id><published>2008-08-14T21:03:00.002+09:00</published><updated>2008-08-14T21:05:38.133+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Human dolls</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hxpplyVin58/SKQfcig2LuI/AAAAAAAAAEY/KN4u8sBW2rM/s1600-h/hotel+em+langkawi6,+da+para+andar+ate+as+rochas3.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5234343242072731362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hxpplyVin58/SKQfcig2LuI/AAAAAAAAAEY/KN4u8sBW2rM/s320/hotel+em+langkawi6,+da+para+andar+ate+as+rochas3.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; by Florian in Malaysia&lt;/span&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/19122922-7780284007441601462?l=ergopoewords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/feeds/7780284007441601462/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19122922&amp;postID=7780284007441601462' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19122922/posts/default/7780284007441601462'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19122922/posts/default/7780284007441601462'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/2008/08/human-dolls.html' title='Human dolls'/><author><name>Erica Kaminishi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15361351378767141959</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/_hxpplyVin58/SKQfcig2LuI/AAAAAAAAAEY/KN4u8sBW2rM/s72-c/hotel+em+langkawi6,+da+para+andar+ate+as+rochas3.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19122922.post-3499590258380492492</id><published>2008-06-23T15:59:00.012+09:00</published><updated>2008-06-23T16:20:59.692+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Quiz</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;What's the relationship between Rene Margritte (The Treachery of Images 1928-29 - This is not a pipe), Marcel Broadthaers (Modele: La Virgule, 1968) and Takahiko Iimura?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214970326914528610" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hxpplyVin58/SF9L4dnxdWI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/Q37xHtA22uI/s320/Margritte_Pipe.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hxpplyVin58/SF9LyumQc8I/AAAAAAAAAEI/IbnMvbQ4JGo/s1600-h/imagem2.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214970228392358850" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hxpplyVin58/SF9LyumQc8I/AAAAAAAAAEI/IbnMvbQ4JGo/s320/imagem2.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hxpplyVin58/SF9LuodlRMI/AAAAAAAAAEA/3G-eu47sQ0o/s1600-h/Iimura_ObserverObserved.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214970158025884866" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hxpplyVin58/SF9LuodlRMI/AAAAAAAAAEA/3G-eu47sQ0o/s320/Iimura_ObserverObserved.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&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/19122922-3499590258380492492?l=ergopoewords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/feeds/3499590258380492492/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19122922&amp;postID=3499590258380492492' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19122922/posts/default/3499590258380492492'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19122922/posts/default/3499590258380492492'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/2008/06/quiz.html' title='Quiz'/><author><name>Erica Kaminishi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15361351378767141959</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/_hxpplyVin58/SF9L4dnxdWI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/Q37xHtA22uI/s72-c/Margritte_Pipe.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19122922.post-4579500889534461103</id><published>2008-06-09T16:03:00.002+09:00</published><updated>2008-06-09T16:34:35.152+09:00</updated><title type='text'>My own way</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hxpplyVin58/SEzWUqjzYXI/AAAAAAAAADI/0lRn-KJrfWw/s1600-h/foto1.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5209774519471006066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hxpplyVin58/SEzWUqjzYXI/AAAAAAAAADI/0lRn-KJrfWw/s320/foto1.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Zuihitsu - 随筆&lt;br /&gt;Meu video mais recente... Não sei muito bem como será a reação dos japoneses (principalmente meus professores) ao assistí-lo. Talvez seja clichê demais? Ocidentalizado demais? Pois esta que vos escreve é uma chinesinha do Paraguai bem das "farsificadas"...&lt;br /&gt;E um japonês pensante irá certamente soltar um soooo desuneeee... e comentar que tá ficando careca de tanto ver estas aspirações filosóficas da "intelligentsia" ocidental em relação a cultura japonesa... fushigidesune...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Zuihitsu é um gênero na Literatura Japonesa que não exige técnicas literárias, ou afins. Como a própria tradução dos ideogramas, significa "seguir o pincel" livremente...&lt;br /&gt;Consciente por não compreender a técnica da caligrafia japonesa (shodo), no vídeo escrevo propositalmente a minha maneira, da direita para esquerda e sem seguir uma linha formal (no final sai torto).&lt;br /&gt;Ver no que dá...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19122922-4579500889534461103?l=ergopoewords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/feeds/4579500889534461103/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19122922&amp;postID=4579500889534461103' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19122922/posts/default/4579500889534461103'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19122922/posts/default/4579500889534461103'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/2008/06/my-own-way.html' title='My own way'/><author><name>Erica Kaminishi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15361351378767141959</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/_hxpplyVin58/SEzWUqjzYXI/AAAAAAAAADI/0lRn-KJrfWw/s72-c/foto1.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19122922.post-3089187224114635604</id><published>2008-05-14T22:52:00.004+09:00</published><updated>2008-05-14T23:03:33.507+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Paisagens Insólitas</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hxpplyVin58/SCrwUIjDF2I/AAAAAAAAADA/FNawxQNm-4c/s1600-h/Resize+of+IMG_6077.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200232948435195746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hxpplyVin58/SCrwUIjDF2I/AAAAAAAAADA/FNawxQNm-4c/s320/Resize+of+IMG_6077.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hxpplyVin58/SCrvAIjDF0I/AAAAAAAAACw/fJByNlQCHII/s1600-h/Resize+of+IMG_6085.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200231505326184258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hxpplyVin58/SCrvAIjDF0I/AAAAAAAAACw/fJByNlQCHII/s320/Resize+of+IMG_6085.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Paisagens inundadas pelas palavras &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;O olhar atento do Florian circunda estes rios...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&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/19122922-3089187224114635604?l=ergopoewords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/feeds/3089187224114635604/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19122922&amp;postID=3089187224114635604' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19122922/posts/default/3089187224114635604'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19122922/posts/default/3089187224114635604'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/2008/05/paisagens-inslitas.html' title='Paisagens Insólitas'/><author><name>Erica Kaminishi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15361351378767141959</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/_hxpplyVin58/SCrwUIjDF2I/AAAAAAAAADA/FNawxQNm-4c/s72-c/Resize+of+IMG_6077.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19122922.post-4449326405875332428</id><published>2008-03-09T21:53:00.005+09:00</published><updated>2008-03-09T21:59:16.230+09:00</updated><title type='text'>A fraternidade é chinesa...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hxpplyVin58/R9PekDx8BjI/AAAAAAAAACo/uQqhQC5fdN4/s1600-h/Resize+of+Picture+118.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hxpplyVin58/R9PekDx8BjI/AAAAAAAAACo/uQqhQC5fdN4/s320/Resize+of+Picture+118.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5175725107850249778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19122922-4449326405875332428?l=ergopoewords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/feeds/4449326405875332428/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19122922&amp;postID=4449326405875332428' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19122922/posts/default/4449326405875332428'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19122922/posts/default/4449326405875332428'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/2008/03/vermelho-chins-ou-china-vermelha.html' title='A fraternidade é chinesa...'/><author><name>Erica Kaminishi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15361351378767141959</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/_hxpplyVin58/R9PekDx8BjI/AAAAAAAAACo/uQqhQC5fdN4/s72-c/Resize+of+Picture+118.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19122922.post-1248706994893328026</id><published>2008-01-14T10:33:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2008-01-14T11:00:13.200+09:00</updated><title type='text'>In(verses) Ways News</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hxpplyVin58/R4q8UdvLg7I/AAAAAAAAACg/3qCOPqU8Y_Y/s1600-h/Resize+of+Inverses1detErica.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hxpplyVin58/R4q8UdvLg7I/AAAAAAAAACg/3qCOPqU8Y_Y/s320/Resize+of+Inverses1detErica.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5155139783244874674" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;In(verses) Ways &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;will be featured in the Rojos Magazine (february's Issue)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.rojo-magazine.com/daily/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;http://www.rojo-magazine.com/daily/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The exhibition will be held this year at&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;_Aichi Arts Center &lt;/span&gt;- from 13 to 24 of february   Nagoya city / Aichi Ken / Japan&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.aac.pref.aichi.jp/"&gt;http://www.aac.pref.aichi.jp/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;_Contemporary Museum of Parana&lt;/span&gt; - from 10 of april to 25 of may  Curitiba city / Parana state/ Brazil&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.pr.gov.br/mac/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;http://www.pr.gov.br/mac/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;_Kanagawa Prefectural Gallery &lt;/span&gt;- june/july   Yokohama city/ Kanagawa ken / Japan&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19122922-1248706994893328026?l=ergopoewords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/feeds/1248706994893328026/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19122922&amp;postID=1248706994893328026' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19122922/posts/default/1248706994893328026'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19122922/posts/default/1248706994893328026'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/2008/01/inverses-ways-news.html' title='In(verses) Ways News'/><author><name>Erica Kaminishi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15361351378767141959</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/_hxpplyVin58/R4q8UdvLg7I/AAAAAAAAACg/3qCOPqU8Y_Y/s72-c/Resize+of+Inverses1detErica.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19122922.post-1261200383742748495</id><published>2007-10-25T18:35:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2007-10-25T18:47:50.876+09:00</updated><title type='text'>My youga 洋画</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hxpplyVin58/RyBlAqjBLXI/AAAAAAAAACI/w4Hds5Iv-SY/s1600-h/youga1-yellow.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5125207438043196786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hxpplyVin58/RyBlAqjBLXI/AAAAAAAAACI/w4Hds5Iv-SY/s320/youga1-yellow.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Youga (洋画) I  2007 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;ink pen on paper (色紙) 24 x 27,5 cm &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Based on the Poetry of Fernando Pessoa&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;The serie Youga will be exhibited at the International Art Triennale, organized by Osaka University of Arts&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;a href="http://www.osaka-geidai.ac.jp/geidai/laboratory/leonardo/english/theme.html"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;http://www.osaka-geidai.ac.jp/geidai/laboratory/leonardo/english/theme.html&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;(December 2007)&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"Youga(洋画) is a western-style painting produced during the Meiji period. Youga employed the use of western materials such as oil paints. Japanese-style painting using traditional materials is called Nihonga 日本画" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Qualquer caminho leva a toda a parte&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Qualquer caminho &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Em qualquer ponto seu em dois se parte &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;E um leva a onde indica a estrada &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Outro é sozinho. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Uma leva ao fim da mera estrada. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Pára Onde acabou. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Outra é a abstracta margem ...... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;[...] &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Ah! os caminhos estão todos em mim. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Qualquer distância ou direcção, ou fim &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Pertence-me, sou eu. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;O resto é a parte &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;D&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;e mim que chamo o mundo exterior. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Mas o caminho deus eis se biparte &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Em o que eu sou e o alheio a mim [...]&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/19122922-1261200383742748495?l=ergopoewords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/feeds/1261200383742748495/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19122922&amp;postID=1261200383742748495' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19122922/posts/default/1261200383742748495'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19122922/posts/default/1261200383742748495'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/2007/10/youga.html' title='My youga 洋画'/><author><name>Erica Kaminishi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15361351378767141959</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/_hxpplyVin58/RyBlAqjBLXI/AAAAAAAAACI/w4Hds5Iv-SY/s72-c/youga1-yellow.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19122922.post-86404775435018725</id><published>2007-10-10T16:40:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2007-10-25T18:52:27.578+09:00</updated><title type='text'>In(verses) ways</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hxpplyVin58/RwyCZ-dwUUI/AAAAAAAAACA/_gM0-_YZgTo/s1600-h/inve1-low.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119610259189551426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hxpplyVin58/RwyCZ-dwUUI/AAAAAAAAACA/_gM0-_YZgTo/s320/inve1-low.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;My new project: In(verses) ways/caminhos In(versos)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"&gt;It is based on the poetry of Fernando Pessoa (Qualquer caminho leva a toda parte/ Any way leads to every where/ 何れの道、あらゆる場所へ (1921) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;"...I follow the Pessoa’s verses trying to merge the imaginary (my past) and the reality (my present) and intersecting them into my drawings. I take the imaginary Japan by through of old Japanese maps of Tokyo (of 200 years ago) and divide, cut, separate and transform them into my directions. An allusion of the pictorial images of my childhood; I can walk on the inexistent streets, enter the houses, read the families names and navigate the rivers... It is an attempt to return to that past and create a new reality, an identification process of the self.&lt;br /&gt;As Welsh says about Invisibles Cities of Italo Calvino;&lt;br /&gt;“…the city outside the eyes - the city beyond the self - is invisible. Only the city inside the self can really be perceived; or rather, the only city that is perceived is the “represented” city inside the self (John Welsh, University of Virginia). Therefore, the imaginary country of my childhood returns to my present, it is inside of me. I follow my own way in the Poetic of Pessoa’s words, and my journey between Japan-Brazil-Japan becomes just one, without limits of time and space. .."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;The project In(verses) ways has passed the competition Arts Challenge in Aichi. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;The solo exhibition will be held in february 2008, at Aichi Arts Center. &lt;a href="http://www.aac.pref.aichi.jp/english/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;http://www.aac.pref.aichi.jp/english/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19122922-86404775435018725?l=ergopoewords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/feeds/86404775435018725/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19122922&amp;postID=86404775435018725' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19122922/posts/default/86404775435018725'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19122922/posts/default/86404775435018725'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/2007/10/inverses-ways.html' title='In(verses) ways'/><author><name>Erica Kaminishi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15361351378767141959</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/_hxpplyVin58/RwyCZ-dwUUI/AAAAAAAAACA/_gM0-_YZgTo/s72-c/inve1-low.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19122922.post-8156464313976244660</id><published>2007-08-31T21:18:00.001+09:00</published><updated>2007-08-31T21:27:10.946+09:00</updated><title type='text'>My new flower...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hxpplyVin58/RtgIMPf9QiI/AAAAAAAAABY/ZfU5tmL_gZM/s1600-h/Resize+of+detalhe4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5104839184036479522" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hxpplyVin58/RtgIMPf9QiI/AAAAAAAAABY/ZfU5tmL_gZM/s320/Resize+of+detalhe4.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Culture of Amorphous Words&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Serie IV - Reproduction of Flower (Peony) (photo- just detail)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Petry dishes, resin, cotton thread, synthetic fiber and some haiku flowers...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;I just finished... tsukareta!! one month sewing...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&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/19122922-8156464313976244660?l=ergopoewords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/feeds/8156464313976244660/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19122922&amp;postID=8156464313976244660' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19122922/posts/default/8156464313976244660'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19122922/posts/default/8156464313976244660'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/2007/08/my-new-flower.html' title='My new flower...'/><author><name>Erica Kaminishi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15361351378767141959</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/_hxpplyVin58/RtgIMPf9QiI/AAAAAAAAABY/ZfU5tmL_gZM/s72-c/Resize+of+detalhe4.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19122922.post-8208016707597230907</id><published>2007-08-31T21:12:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2007-08-31T21:17:42.565+09:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hxpplyVin58/RtgG2ff9QhI/AAAAAAAAABQ/JJjR11XdoZg/s1600-h/adver1_2pop02.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5104837710862696978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hxpplyVin58/RtgG2ff9QhI/AAAAAAAAABQ/JJjR11XdoZg/s400/adver1_2pop02.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;第12回 真綿のヴィジュアル・アート公募 2006&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mawata.or.jp/adver/adver1_2.html"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;http://www.mawata.or.jp/adver/adver1_2.html&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;奨励賞 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;上西エリカ 「無定形言葉の培養」&lt;br /&gt;額：縦44×横36.5cm、オブジェ：9.5・&lt;br /&gt;さまざまな無定・植物形オブジェを真綿で作り、詩と意味のない言葉を綿糸でオブジェの外面に縫った。それは、言葉をイメージとした概念と構図を作る。言葉は生きている。分子構造のように、一つ一つを一緒に繋ぐと新しい意味が生まれる。ミュータント（突然変異生物）やウイルスのように変化が起こり、その時に文化と社会の間に変化が起きる。「無定形言葉の培養」の作成は自分の「詩」「生物」と「言葉」の耕作である。それは自然のもつ美学性に近づきたいという気落ちを込めたオブジェである「詩・植物・言葉」のハイブリットなのだ。（要約）&lt;/span&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/19122922-8208016707597230907?l=ergopoewords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/feeds/8208016707597230907/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19122922&amp;postID=8208016707597230907' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19122922/posts/default/8208016707597230907'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19122922/posts/default/8208016707597230907'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/2007/08/4436.html' title=''/><author><name>Erica Kaminishi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15361351378767141959</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/_hxpplyVin58/RtgG2ff9QhI/AAAAAAAAABQ/JJjR11XdoZg/s72-c/adver1_2pop02.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19122922.post-9215012176878575112</id><published>2007-04-18T11:03:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2007-08-31T21:36:09.022+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Coming Soon</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hxpplyVin58/RtgLHPf9QmI/AAAAAAAAAB4/Y8dP03BWXs4/s1600-h/Resize+of+IMG_1420.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hxpplyVin58/RtgK9ff9QlI/AAAAAAAAABw/HvIXm_R3M3o/s1600-h/Resize+of+IMG_1420.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5104842229168292434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hxpplyVin58/RtgK9ff9QlI/AAAAAAAAABw/HvIXm_R3M3o/s320/Resize+of+IMG_1420.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hxpplyVin58/RtgKyff9QkI/AAAAAAAAABo/OvbdrxNHcu4/s1600-h/Resize+of+IMG_1439.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5104842040189731394" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hxpplyVin58/RtgKyff9QkI/AAAAAAAAABo/OvbdrxNHcu4/s320/Resize+of+IMG_1439.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://img101.imageshack.us/img101/4482/infinitelinessb9.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 263px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 354px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="344" alt="" src="http://img101.imageshack.us/img101/4482/infinitelinessb9.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Group Exhibition : Infinite Lines&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Promo Arte Gallery&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.promo-arte.com/jpn/index.php"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;http://www.promo-arte.com/jpn/index.php&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;26/april until 08/may 2007&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&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/19122922-9215012176878575112?l=ergopoewords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/feeds/9215012176878575112/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19122922&amp;postID=9215012176878575112' title='142 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19122922/posts/default/9215012176878575112'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19122922/posts/default/9215012176878575112'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/2007/04/coming-soon.html' title='Coming Soon'/><author><name>Erica Kaminishi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15361351378767141959</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/_hxpplyVin58/RtgK9ff9QlI/AAAAAAAAABw/HvIXm_R3M3o/s72-c/Resize+of+IMG_1420.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>142</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19122922.post-116386004830141246</id><published>2006-11-18T23:08:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2007-08-31T21:11:21.748+09:00</updated><title type='text'>On my way...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7278/1886/1600/kunizo%20matsumoto%202.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7278/1886/320/kunizo%20matsumoto%202.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;December/2006 ~&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Solo Exhibition: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Amorphous, &lt;em&gt;Poeplantswords&lt;/em&gt; Museum Casa Andrade Muricy, Ctba BR&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.pr.gov.br/cam/index.shtml"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;http://www.pr.gov.br/cam/index.shtml&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Collective Exhibitions: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;13º Salão da Bahia MAM, Salvador BA &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mambahia.com.br/salao.htm"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;http://www.mambahia.com.br/salao.htm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;12º Floss Silk Visual Art Asahi Gallery, Tokyo JP Encouragement Prize &lt;a href="http://www.mawata.or.jp/adver/adver1_2.html"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;http://www.mawata.or.jp/adver/adver1_2.html&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Maebashi Art Compe Live 2006+ (Last result Dec/10) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.f-ritz.jp/macl06/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;http://www.f-ritz.jp/macl06/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19122922-116386004830141246?l=ergopoewords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/feeds/116386004830141246/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19122922&amp;postID=116386004830141246' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19122922/posts/default/116386004830141246'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19122922/posts/default/116386004830141246'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/2006/11/on-my-way.html' title='On my way...'/><author><name>Erica Kaminishi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15361351378767141959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19122922.post-116298046514360550</id><published>2006-11-08T17:53:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-11-09T10:52:31.953+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Holes in the wall?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7278/1886/1600/bombing%20legos%20035.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7278/1886/320/bombing%20legos%20035.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"...Nós fabricamos um inconsciente. É a nossa vergonha, mas também nossa esperança. Ele é o lugar para onde passa aquilo que não estamos à altura de experimentar. Na verdade, nossa neurose é o sonho imposto no mundo do buraco branco. Como o buraco branco nos fixa na identidade da função, da competência-trabalho, temos de perseverar na figura e blindar-mo-nos contra o fluxo do arrebatamento. Ele destruiria tudo o que somos. Seríamos demitidos de nossa casa e nossa casa é o buraco branco...”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.cronopios.com.br/site/prosa.asp?id=1815"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;http://www.cronopios.com.br/site/prosa.asp?id=1815&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Some holes with ideas: &lt;a href="http://bombing.logo.free.fr/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;http://bombing.logo.free.fr/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;How to fix a big hole:&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://pages.areaguides.com/ubuild/punchBigHoleInTheWall.htm"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;http://pages.areaguides.com/ubuild/punchBigHoleInTheWall.htm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My hole in the wall: french homemade cuisine! Mon petit! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19122922-116298046514360550?l=ergopoewords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/feeds/116298046514360550/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19122922&amp;postID=116298046514360550' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19122922/posts/default/116298046514360550'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19122922/posts/default/116298046514360550'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/2006/11/holes-in-wall.html' title='Holes in the wall?'/><author><name>Erica Kaminishi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15361351378767141959</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-19122922.post-115994177713711064</id><published>2006-10-04T14:54:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2007-07-10T11:09:47.944+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Amorphous-Poeplantswords</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_hxpplyVin58/RpLqTw7PyWI/AAAAAAAAAA8/EdSYNY-WJJY/s1600-h/DSCN1484.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5085384554526525794" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_hxpplyVin58/RpLqTw7PyWI/AAAAAAAAAA8/EdSYNY-WJJY/s320/DSCN1484.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_hxpplyVin58/RpLqMA7PyVI/AAAAAAAAAA0/oo7eoNunjM0/s1600-h/DSCN1270.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5085384421382539602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_hxpplyVin58/RpLqMA7PyVI/AAAAAAAAAA0/oo7eoNunjM0/s320/DSCN1270.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7278/1886/1600/DSC00534.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;“…&lt;em&gt;penetra surdamente no reino das palavras&lt;/em&gt;…”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pelas palavras do poeta Drummond minha imaginação flui, caminha por vias nunca tão imaginadas, procurando por um sentido. Ora pelo contraste do preto sumi com o branco arroz, ora pelo rosa cereja, adocicado como o vermelho de sua fruta, porém suave como suas flores e tímido na profusão do dourado. Nobre e intocável dourado, símbolo do budismo e de conceitos estéticos orientais.&lt;br /&gt;Minhas palavras caminham pelas palavras do poeta, mas suas formas e cores busco nos jardins japoneses do Período da Era Meiji (1868-1912). Entre milhares de palavras, formas orgânicas/botânicas e amorfas vão brotando e se metaforseando….&lt;br /&gt;Já não são do poeta, as palavras híbridas são minhas tão-somente minhas, e tornam-se lugar do outro ou do próprio espectador, que no jogo do entendimento participa do meu jogo de palavras. Joga o jogo da palavra pintada; “…um texto só é um texto se ele oculta ao primeiro olhar, ao primeiro encontro, a lei de sua composição e a regra do seu jogo…” (Jacques Derrida)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Exhibition: &lt;em&gt;Amorphous-&lt;/em&gt;poeplantswords&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Casa Andrade Muricy - Curitiba PR&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;December 2006&lt;/span&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/19122922-115994177713711064?l=ergopoewords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/feeds/115994177713711064/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19122922&amp;postID=115994177713711064' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19122922/posts/default/115994177713711064'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19122922/posts/default/115994177713711064'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/2006/10/amorphous-poeplantswords.html' title='Amorphous-Poeplantswords'/><author><name>Erica Kaminishi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15361351378767141959</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://bp2.blogger.com/_hxpplyVin58/RpLqTw7PyWI/AAAAAAAAAA8/EdSYNY-WJJY/s72-c/DSCN1484.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19122922.post-115806698437743873</id><published>2006-09-12T22:12:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-09-12T22:17:55.816+09:00</updated><title type='text'>My flower My flower My flower</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7278/1886/1600/figure_4.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7278/1886/320/figure_4.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7278/1886/1600/figure_4.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;DECLARATION OF LOVE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My flower my flower my flower. My primrose my pelargonium my gladiola my butter-cup. My peony. My cineraria my marigold my snapdragon. My Transvaal daisy. My Kaffir lily. My cimbidium. Flower flower flower. Amaryllisflower. Anemoneflower. Azaleaflower. Clematis dearest. Cattleya delphinium asterales. My hydrangearanium. Oh, my nuphar. Rhododendron and chrysanthemum and narcissus jonquilas. My cyclamen. Japanese apple blossom of mine. Slipperwort of mine. Dahliabegonia of mine. Forsythiairis tulipsirose. Violet… more than perfect love pansy. My heather. Carnation-of-my-own-corpse. My corolla without color and name in the ground of my death.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Carlos Drummond de Andrade&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19122922-115806698437743873?l=ergopoewords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/feeds/115806698437743873/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19122922&amp;postID=115806698437743873' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19122922/posts/default/115806698437743873'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19122922/posts/default/115806698437743873'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/2006/09/my-flower-my-flower-my-flower.html' title='My flower My flower My flower'/><author><name>Erica Kaminishi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15361351378767141959</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-19122922.post-114528370831565416</id><published>2006-04-17T23:05:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-04-17T23:21:56.413+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Invisible city...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7278/1886/1600/0212-0214_tiananmen6098.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7278/1886/320/0212-0214_tiananmen6098.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"... My mind goes on containing a great number of cities I have never seen and will never see, names that bear with them a figure or a fragment or glimmer of an imagined figure. . . . [The imagined city is still there] but I can no longer call it by a name, nor remember how I could ever have given it a name that means something entirely different..."  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;( Invisible Cities by Italo Calvino)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://homepage.mac.com/szetsungleong/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;http://homepage.mac.com/szetsungleong/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://users.aol.com/dmchess/www/invcit.html"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;http://users.aol.com/dmchess/www/invcit.html&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19122922-114528370831565416?l=ergopoewords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/feeds/114528370831565416/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19122922&amp;postID=114528370831565416' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19122922/posts/default/114528370831565416'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19122922/posts/default/114528370831565416'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/2006/04/invisible-city.html' title='Invisible city...'/><author><name>Erica Kaminishi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15361351378767141959</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-19122922.post-114480988242789259</id><published>2006-04-12T11:41:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-04-13T16:21:32.716+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Mirror [mire usted]</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7278/1886/1600/Picture%20001.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7278/1886/320/Picture%20001.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;You, Beloved, who are all&lt;br /&gt;the gardens I have ever gazed at,&lt;br /&gt;longing. An open window&lt;br /&gt;in a country house-, and you almost&lt;br /&gt;stepped out, pensive, to meet me.&lt;br /&gt;Streets that I chanced upon,—&lt;br /&gt;you had just walked down them and vanished.&lt;br /&gt;And sometimes, in a shop, the mirrors&lt;br /&gt;were still dizzy with your presence and, startled,&lt;br /&gt;gave back my too-sudden image. Who knows?&lt;br /&gt;perhaps the same bird echoed through both of us&lt;br /&gt;yesterday, separate, in the evening...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;You who never arrived&lt;/em&gt; Rainer Maria Rilke Picture: somewhere in Gifu... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19122922-114480988242789259?l=ergopoewords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/feeds/114480988242789259/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19122922&amp;postID=114480988242789259' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19122922/posts/default/114480988242789259'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19122922/posts/default/114480988242789259'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/2006/04/mirror-mire-usted.html' title='Mirror [mire usted]'/><author><name>Erica Kaminishi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15361351378767141959</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-19122922.post-114467885798893743</id><published>2006-04-10T23:11:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-04-10T23:32:27.230+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Did you bring the key?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7278/1886/1600/050823_1632~001.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7278/1886/200/050823_1632%7E001.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Looking for Poetry&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;by Drummond&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"Don't write poems about what's happening.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Nothing is born or dies in poetry's presence.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Next to it, life is a static sun&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;without warmth or light.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Friendships, birthdays, personal matter don't count.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Don't write poems with the body, and comfortable body objects to lyrical outpouring.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Your anger, your grimace of pleasure or pain in the dark mean nothing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Don't show off your feelings&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;that are slow in coming around and take advantage of doubt.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;What you think and feel are not poetry yet.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Don't sing about your city, leave it in peace.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Song is not the movement of machines or the secret of houses.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;It is not music heard in passing, noise of the sea in streets that skirt the boders of foam.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Song is not nature&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;or men in society.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Rain and night, fatigue and hope, mean nothing to it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Poetry (you don't get it from things)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;leaves out subject and object.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Don't dramatize, don't invoke&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;don't question, don't waste time lying.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Don't get upset.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Your ivory yacht, your diamond shoe,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;your mazurkas and tirades, your family skeletons,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;all of them worthless, disappear in the curve of time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Don't bring up&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;your sad and buried childhood.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Don't waver between the mirror&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;and a fading memory.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;What faded was not poetry.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;What broke was not crystal.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Enter the kingdom of words as if you were deaf.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Poems are there that want to be written.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;They are dormant, but don't be let down,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;their virginal surfaces are fresh and serene.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;They are alone and mute, in dictionary condition.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Live with your poems before you write them&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;If they're vague, be patient. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;If they offend, be calm.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Wait until each one comes into its own and demolishes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;with its command of wordsand its command of silence.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Don't force poems to let go of limbo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Don't pick up lost poems from the ground.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Don't fawn over poems. Accept them&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;as you would their final and definitive form,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;distilled in space.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Come close and consider the words.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;With a plain face hiding thousands of other faces&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;and with no interest in your response,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;whether weak or strong,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;each word asks:&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Did you bring the key?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Take note:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;words hide in the night&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;in caves of music and image.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Still humid and pregnant with sleep&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;they turn in a winding river and by neglect are transformed."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19122922-114467885798893743?l=ergopoewords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/feeds/114467885798893743/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19122922&amp;postID=114467885798893743' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19122922/posts/default/114467885798893743'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19122922/posts/default/114467885798893743'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/2006/04/did-you-bring-key.html' title='Did you bring the key?'/><author><name>Erica Kaminishi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15361351378767141959</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-19122922.post-114373354547260817</id><published>2006-03-31T00:21:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-04-10T23:11:35.433+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Trans{plants}</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7278/1886/1600/Copy%20of%20ERICA12.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7278/1886/320/Copy%20of%20ERICA12.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;On the way: &lt;em&gt;Amorphous - Poeplantswords&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;There is no conception; just some words of Drummond with botanical/plants/hybrid/amorphous shapes (Looking for Poetry) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://memoriaviva.digi.com.br/drummond/poema025.htm"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;http://memoriaviva.digi.com.br/drummond/poema025.htm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Trans{plant}&lt;/span&gt; of japanese colors (gold/silver/green/cherry/black sumi). Of japanese conception of Art. Of brazilian literature. Of language (desconstruction and hybridization)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19122922-114373354547260817?l=ergopoewords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/feeds/114373354547260817/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19122922&amp;postID=114373354547260817' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19122922/posts/default/114373354547260817'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19122922/posts/default/114373354547260817'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/2006/03/transplants.html' title='Trans{plants}'/><author><name>Erica Kaminishi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15361351378767141959</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-19122922.post-113687140116387660</id><published>2006-01-10T14:12:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-01-10T14:36:41.173+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Azul corporal de Yves Klein</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7278/1886/1600/SAUT-DANS-LE-VIDE-1960.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7278/1886/320/SAUT-DANS-LE-VIDE-1960.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"... O corpo nao eh coisa. Nao eh feixe de nervos, musculos e sangue. Nao eh central de informacao nem receptaculo de estimulos. Nao eh fisiologia de processos "em terceira pessoa", descritos segundo principios mecanicos e funcionais que o fazem simples exterioridade de &lt;em&gt;partes extra partes&lt;/em&gt;. Nao eh recipiente passivo da atividade animica, espiritual ou intelectual. Nao eh fato inspecionado pelo entendimento. Nao eh suporte empirico de formas a priori, nem coisa anatomica. Nao eh ideia clara e distinta, nem o "isto" abstrato da sensacao a ser desenvolvido especulativamente pelo espirito. &lt;em&gt;O corpo eh um sensivel exemplar&lt;/em&gt;" (...)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"... O sensivel, carne do mundo, eh interioridade e exterioridade, eh laco que enlaca as coisas enlacando nossa mobilidade a delas e a nossa visibilidade a delas. Eh comunidade originaria de onde nascemos por segregacao e diferenciacao(...) Entre as coisas, ha uma, extraordinaria, cuja peculiaridade esta em ser sensivel como as outras, em poder ser sentida como as outras, mas diferentemente das outras, em ser tambem sensivel para si: &lt;em&gt;nosso corpo, "sensivel exemplar" porque sensivel para si, porque se sente ao sentir que sente. Corpo cognoscente e reflexivo, movel, movido e movente, mas tambem se movente; tangivel, tangido e tangente, mas tambem se tangente; ouvivel, ouvido e ouvinte, mas tambem se ouvinte; visivel e visto, mas tambem vidente que se ve a si mesmo vendo. Somos parte do mundo, contamos nele e para ele, e eh nosso parentesco carnal com ele que nos faz ver".&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Marilena Chaui in O Olhar. p 58&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Picture: Yves Klein, le saut dans le vide, 1960&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19122922-113687140116387660?l=ergopoewords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/feeds/113687140116387660/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19122922&amp;postID=113687140116387660' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19122922/posts/default/113687140116387660'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19122922/posts/default/113687140116387660'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/2006/01/azul-corporal-de-yves-klein.html' title='Azul corporal de Yves Klein'/><author><name>Erica Kaminishi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15361351378767141959</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-19122922.post-113626771115928615</id><published>2006-01-03T14:43:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-01-03T14:55:11.170+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Alem palavras...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7278/1886/1600/frog.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7278/1886/320/frog.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"... O poeta nunca ve demais, nem sente demais. Suas metaforas sao apenas recursos para se livrar da argamassa branca e morta da copulativa. Ele dissolve a indiferenca desta em milhares de matizes de verbos. Suas imagens derramam sobre as coisas jatos de luz variada, como o irromper subito de fontes. [...] Assim, em toda poesia, uma palavra eh como um sol, com sua coroa e sua cromosfera; as palavras se vao ajuntando, envolvem-se umas as outras em seus involucros luminosos, ate que as sentencas se tornem faixas de luz radiantes e continuas."&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Ernest Fenollosa in Ideograma - Logica, Poesia e Linguagem/Haroldo de Campos. p.54&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19122922-113626771115928615?l=ergopoewords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/feeds/113626771115928615/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19122922&amp;postID=113626771115928615' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19122922/posts/default/113626771115928615'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19122922/posts/default/113626771115928615'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/2006/01/alem-palavras.html' title='Alem palavras...'/><author><name>Erica Kaminishi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15361351378767141959</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-19122922.post-113591635522281774</id><published>2005-12-30T12:33:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2005-12-30T13:31:23.016+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Palavras de 05 para 06</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7278/1886/1600/TextscheibeKriwet.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7278/1886/320/TextscheibeKriwet.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Palavras concretas de Ferdinand Kriwet &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;(picture - estou 40 anos atrasada)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Palavras simbolicas de Ernest Fenollosa e Ezra Pound&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.hyattcarter.com/the_chinese_written_character.htm"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;http://www.hyattcarter.com/the_chinese_written_character.htm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.library.yale.edu/beinecke/orient/fenell.htm"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;http://www.library.yale.edu/beinecke/orient/fenell.htm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.kirjasto.sci.fi/epound.htm"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;http://www.kirjasto.sci.fi/epound.htm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Palavras sonoras de The Smiths (The queen is dead - &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;todos os anos&lt;/span&gt;), &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Black Rebel Motorcycle Club, Nina Simone, Cesaria Evora e Emir Kusturica and The No Smoking Orchestra&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Palavras visuais de Dziga Vertov &lt;a href="http://www.medienkunstnetz.de/works/der-mann-mit-derkamera/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;http://www.medienkunstnetz.de/works/der-mann-mit-derkamera/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Naruse Mikio, Ozu Yasujiro &lt;a href="http://www.filmref.com/directors/dirpages/ozu.html"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;http://www.filmref.com/directors/dirpages/ozu.html&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;E muitas palavras platonicas, perdidas, vendidas, compradas, trocadas, sonhadas, lidas, vistas, tocadas...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19122922-113591635522281774?l=ergopoewords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/feeds/113591635522281774/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19122922&amp;postID=113591635522281774' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19122922/posts/default/113591635522281774'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19122922/posts/default/113591635522281774'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/2005/12/palavras-de-05-para-06.html' title='Palavras de 05 para 06'/><author><name>Erica Kaminishi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15361351378767141959</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-19122922.post-113566530355658915</id><published>2005-12-27T15:11:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2005-12-27T15:49:06.116+09:00</updated><title type='text'>O meu olhar</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7278/1886/1600/Blue%20sky%20thinking.10.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7278/1886/320/Blue%20sky%20thinking.7.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;O meu olhar é nítido como um girassol&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Tenho o costume de andar pelas estradas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Olhando para a direita e para a esquerda,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;E de vez em quando olhando para trás...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;E o que vejo a cada momento&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;É aquilo que nunca antes eu tinha visto,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;E eu sei dar por isso muito bem...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Sei ter o pasmo essencial&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Que tem uma criança se, ao nascer,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Reparasse que nascera deveras...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Sinto-me nascido a cada momento&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Para a eterna novidade do Mundo...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Creio no mundo como num malmequer,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Porque o vejo. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Mas não penso nele&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Porque pensar é não compreender...&lt;br /&gt;O Mundo não se fez para pensarmos nele&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;(Pensar é estar doente dos olhos)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Mas para olharmos para ele e estarmos de acordo...&lt;br /&gt;Eu não tenho filosofia; tenho sentidos...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Se falo na Natureza não é porque saiba o que ela é,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Mas porque a amo, e amo-a por isso&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Porque quem ama nunca sabe o que ama&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Nem sabe por que ama, nem o que é amar...&lt;br /&gt;Amar é a eterna inocência,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;E a única inocência não pensar... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Alberto Caeiro (Fernando Pessoa)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Para aprender a pensar&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.think-lab.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;http://www.think-lab.com/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.logo.com/twp/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;http://www.logo.com/twp/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Para sentir &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.vikmuniz.net/main.html"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;http://www.vikmuniz.net/main.html&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.pbs.org/independentlens/worstpossibleillusion/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;http://www.pbs.org/independentlens/worstpossibleillusion/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19122922-113566530355658915?l=ergopoewords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/feeds/113566530355658915/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19122922&amp;postID=113566530355658915' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19122922/posts/default/113566530355658915'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19122922/posts/default/113566530355658915'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/2005/12/o-meu-olhar.html' title='O meu olhar'/><author><name>Erica Kaminishi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15361351378767141959</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-19122922.post-113505190126073042</id><published>2005-12-20T13:02:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2005-12-20T13:11:41.283+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Gosto de palavrar</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7278/1886/1600/vautier-ecrit-S.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7278/1886/320/vautier-ecrit-S.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"Gosto de dizer. Direi melhor: gosto de palavrar. As palavras são para mim corpos tocáveis, sereias visíveis, sensualidades incorporadas. Talvez porque a sensualidade real não tem para mim interesse de nenhuma espécie - nem sequer mental ou de sonho -, transmudou-se-me o desejo para aquilo que em mim cria ritmos verbais, ou os escuta de outros. Estremeço se dizem bem. Tal página de Fialho, tal página de Chateaubriand, fazem formigar toda a minha vida em todas as veias, fazem-me raivar tremulamente quieto de um prazer inatingível que estou tendo. Tal página, até, de Vieira, na sua fria perfeição de engenharia sintáctica, me faz tremer como um ramo ao vento, num delírio passivo de coisa movida.&lt;br /&gt;Como todos os grandes apaixonados, gosto da delícia da perda de mim, em que o gozo da entrega se sofre inteiramente. E, assim, muitas vezes, escrevo sem querer pensar, num devaneio externo, deixando que as palavras me façam festas, criança menina ao colo delas. São frases sem sentido, decorrendo mórbidas, numa fluidez de água sentida, esquecer-se de ribeiro em que as ondas se misturam e indefinem, tornando-se sempre outras, sucedendo a si mesmas. Assim as ideias, as imagens, trémulas de expressão, passam por mim em cortejos sonoros de sedas esbatidas, onde um luar de ideia bruxuleia, malhado e confuso. (...) Sim, porque a ortografia também é gente. A palavra é completa vista e ouvida. E a gala da transliteração greco-romana veste-ma do seu vero manto régio, pelo qual é senhora e rainha. "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Livro do Desassossego por Bernardo Soares. Vol.I. Fernando Pessoa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.ben-vautier.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;http://www.ben-vautier.com/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;(picture)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19122922-113505190126073042?l=ergopoewords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/feeds/113505190126073042/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19122922&amp;postID=113505190126073042' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19122922/posts/default/113505190126073042'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19122922/posts/default/113505190126073042'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/2005/12/gosto-de-palavrar.html' title='Gosto de palavrar'/><author><name>Erica Kaminishi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15361351378767141959</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-19122922.post-113489056483892374</id><published>2005-12-18T16:12:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2005-12-18T16:27:33.783+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Metamorphing the body</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7278/1886/1600/YearTiger.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7278/1886/320/YearTiger.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;"&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;What brings hybridization about?&lt;br /&gt;Hybrid creations and creatures emerge from recombinations. The smaller, the more flexible the unit, the greater the number of recombinations. Hence the principal drivers of hybridity are the gene, the atom and the bit. &lt;em&gt;Language itself is a product and a generator of hybridization.&lt;/em&gt; Like migration and crossbreeding, languages drive hybridization because they bring together common features from otherwise unrelated entities. As more and more objects are made available in digital form, invention rises evermore from sampling and mixing, leading to a generalized digital/material bricolage&lt;/span&gt;."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"If you want to see cultural hybridization in action, watch a Bollywood movie. Globalization brings new pressures on hybridization. Being at once global, continental and local, we are all global, but some of us are more global than others. The world implodes and societies remix. Under the gaze of satellites, the political face of the planet is trying to graduate from nationalism to continentalism. Most changes are lateral as we witness the repeated drama of vertical disintegration. In the mediadriven politics of the globalized economy, keeping in mind the dubious strategies of recycling old concepts to fit new situations, what is the meaning of “democracy” ?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.daniellee.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;http://www.daniellee.com/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt; (picture)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.aec.at/en/festival2005/index.asp"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;http://www.aec.at/en/festival2005/index.asp&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://p.php.uol.com.br/tropico/html/textos/2652,1.shl"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;http://p.php.uol.com.br/tropico/html/textos/2652,1.shl&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19122922-113489056483892374?l=ergopoewords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/feeds/113489056483892374/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19122922&amp;postID=113489056483892374' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19122922/posts/default/113489056483892374'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19122922/posts/default/113489056483892374'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/2005/12/metamorphing-body.html' title='Metamorphing the body'/><author><name>Erica Kaminishi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15361351378767141959</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-19122922.post-113444456005965966</id><published>2005-12-13T12:24:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2005-12-13T12:30:29.470+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Poema à boca fechada</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7278/1886/1600/hill66.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7278/1886/320/hill66.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Não direi: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Que o silêncio me sufoca e amordaça. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Calado estou, calado ficarei,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Pois que a língua que falo é de outra raça.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Palavras consumidas se acumulam, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Se represam, cisterna de águas mortas, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Ácidas mágoas em limos transformadas, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Vaza de fundo em que há raízes tortas. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Não direi: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Que nem sequer o esforço de as dizer merecem, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Palavras que não digam quanto sei &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Neste retiro em que me não conhecem. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Nem só lodos se arrastam, nem só lamas, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Nem só animais bóiam, mortos, medos, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Túrgidos frutos em cachos se entrelaçam &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;No negro poço de onde sobem dedos. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Só direi, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Crispadamente recolhido e mudo, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Que quem se cala quando me calei &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Não poderá morrer sem dizer tudo. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Jose Saramago - Os poemas possiveis&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19122922-113444456005965966?l=ergopoewords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/feeds/113444456005965966/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19122922&amp;postID=113444456005965966' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19122922/posts/default/113444456005965966'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19122922/posts/default/113444456005965966'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/2005/12/poema-boca-fechada.html' title='Poema à boca fechada'/><author><name>Erica Kaminishi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15361351378767141959</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-19122922.post-113409668180937539</id><published>2005-12-09T11:48:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2005-12-09T11:54:45.126+09:00</updated><title type='text'>BioMimetic</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7278/1886/1600/botanic1.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7278/1886/320/botanic1.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"... The creative reality of forms lies within a continuous series emanating from a single primal life-impulse seeking and finding manifold expression in form. Life itself is thus manifested..." &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Louis H. Sullivan - A System of Architectural Ornament&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Curriculum: Leaf&lt;br /&gt;Considering a leaf for design exploration:&lt;br /&gt;1. Leaves convert carbon dioxide into oxygen = design analogy: ventilation systems, environmental sensors, and/or pollution filters.&lt;br /&gt;2. Leaves transform light, carbon dioxide, water, and minerals into sugar = design analogy/extrapolation: bioluminescence and photovoltaic systems.&lt;br /&gt;3. Leaves are cellular structures = design analogy: membrane-wall structural systems.&lt;br /&gt;4. Leaves have waterproof or water-resistant surface = design analogy: moisture barrier.&lt;br /&gt;5. Leaves are part of a water and nutrient pumping, circulation, and communication system = design analogy: water, sewage, power, cable, catchment, filtration, and heat circulation systems. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;6. Leaf morphology; shapes, unfolding, and surface qualities = design analogy: surface textures, circulation patterns, as well as origami-like structural folding and unfolding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.tumbletruss.com/index.html"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;http://www.tumbletruss.com/index.html&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19122922-113409668180937539?l=ergopoewords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/feeds/113409668180937539/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19122922&amp;postID=113409668180937539' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19122922/posts/default/113409668180937539'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19122922/posts/default/113409668180937539'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/2005/12/biomimetic.html' title='BioMimetic'/><author><name>Erica Kaminishi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15361351378767141959</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-19122922.post-113386711703326500</id><published>2005-12-06T19:34:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2005-12-06T20:09:01.343+09:00</updated><title type='text'>"O olhar é uma musica que os olhos tocam"</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7278/1886/1600/Margritte_Pipe.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7278/1886/400/Margritte_Pipe.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"...(Eu escrevi 'são os poetas que sabem sobre os olhares' – mas logo corrigi. Todo mundo sabe sobre os olhares. Todo mundo observa atentamente os olhares porque são eles, e não os globos oculares, que sinalizam a vida e especialmente o amor... Mas só os poetas sabem falar sobre eles). Escrevo para mudar olhares. Isso não é ciência. É arte. Há olhos perfeitos que são armas mortíferas. Jesus se referiu a esses olhos e sugeriu que deveriam ser arrancados. Os olhos, eles mesmos, são estúpidos. Eles não têm o poder para discriminar as coisas dignas de serem vistas das coisas não dignas de serem vistas. Para eles tanto faz ver um programa idiota de televisão quando uma tela de Vermeer. A capacidade de discriminar não pertence aos olhos. Pertence ao olhar. Mas isso exige uma luz interior..."&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Rubem Alves&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.rubemalves.com.br/sobrecienciaesapiencia.htm"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;http://www.rubemalves.com.br/sobrecienciaesapiencia.htm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www1.folha.uol.com.br/folha/sinapse/ult1063u778.shtml"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;http://www1.folha.uol.com.br/folha/sinapse/ult1063u778.shtml&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;(painting Rene Magritte - Ceci n'est pas une pipe)&lt;/span&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.pipes.at/pipes.html"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;http://www.pipes.at/pipes.html&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19122922-113386711703326500?l=ergopoewords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/feeds/113386711703326500/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19122922&amp;postID=113386711703326500' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19122922/posts/default/113386711703326500'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19122922/posts/default/113386711703326500'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/2005/12/o-olhar-uma-musica-que-os-olhos-tocam.html' title='&quot;O olhar é uma musica que os olhos tocam&quot;'/><author><name>Erica Kaminishi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15361351378767141959</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-19122922.post-113369681763296951</id><published>2005-12-04T20:28:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2005-12-04T20:46:57.643+09:00</updated><title type='text'>A funcionalidade estupida da Arte</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"Nao diga isso. Nao rotule uma obra como algo util, porque uma coisa util nao eh arte" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Louise Bourgeois&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7278/1886/1600/navin.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7278/1886/400/navin.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"… por um lado, interpretação significa extrair um significado de uma coisa. Mas interpretar uma obra de arte significa também ”apresentar” a obra de arte. De fato, apresentamos uma obra de arte quando tentamos conferir um significado a ela, do qual percebemos logo que permanecerá fugaz. Se não confrontarmos a obra de arte com a nossa procura de significado, então se nos omitirá o fracasso relativo, a fuga da nossa interpretação. E se não experimentarmos esse fracasso, que abre a porta para o outro aspecto do significado, então não compreendemos a obra de arte. Isso é estranho, mas é realmente assim. O motivo dessa estranheza é conhecido. As obras de arte ”vacilam” (Paul Valéry) entre sua expressão material e o seu significado..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Roger M. Buergel &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.magazine-deutschland.de/issue/Buergel_2-05_POR_P.php?lang=por"&gt;http://www.magazine-deutschland.de/issue/Buergel_2-05_POR_P.php?lang=por&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.bravonline.com.br/impressa.php?edit=en&amp;numEd=86"&gt;http://www.bravonline.com.br/impressa.php?edit=en&amp;amp;numEd=86&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.yokohama2005.jp/en/"&gt;http://www.yokohama2005.jp/en/&lt;/a&gt;  (picture: Curatorman Inc) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;A arte como um grande espetaculo do vazio.&lt;br /&gt;Oco, vacuo, sem dialogo, sem interpretacao… Pretensionismo?&lt;br /&gt;O que voce absorve em 30% de pura expressao?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;“Vício na fala/Para dizerem milho dizem mio/Para melhor dizem mió/Para pior pió/Para telha teia/Para telhado teiado/ E vão fazendo telhados.”  Oswald de Andrade &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19122922-113369681763296951?l=ergopoewords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/feeds/113369681763296951/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19122922&amp;postID=113369681763296951' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19122922/posts/default/113369681763296951'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19122922/posts/default/113369681763296951'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/2005/12/funcionalidade-estupida-da-arte.html' title='A funcionalidade estupida da Arte'/><author><name>Erica Kaminishi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15361351378767141959</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-19122922.post-113361841285538242</id><published>2005-12-03T22:07:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2005-12-04T22:31:55.996+09:00</updated><title type='text'>The written face</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7278/1886/1600/kyogen-27.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7278/1886/320/kyogen-27.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"The theatrical face is not painted (made up), it is written. There occurs this unforseen movement: though painting and writing share the same original instrument, the brush, it is still not painting which lures writing into its decorative style, into its flaunted, caressing touch, into its representative space ( as would no doubt have been the case with us - in the west the civilized future of a function is always its aesthetic ennoblement); on the contrary, it is the act of writing which subjugates the pictural gesture, so that to paint is never anything but to inscribe. This theatrical face consists of two substances: the white of the paper, the black of the inscription (reserved for the eyes) (...) the face is only: the thing to write; but this future is already written by the hand which has whitened the eyelashes, the tip of the nose, the cheekbones, and given the page of flesh its black limit of a wig compact as stone. the whiteness of the face, not lustrous but heavy, as disturbingly movements: immobility (for which our moral term is impassivity) and fragility (which in the same fashion but with no more success we label: emotivity)..."&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Roland Barthes, Empire of Signs 1983 p. 88&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.questia.com/library/communication/roland-barthes.jsp"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;http://www.questia.com/library/communication/roland-barthes.jsp&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.theatrenohgaku.org/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;http://www.theatrenohgaku.org/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"Depus a máscara e vi-me ao espelho.&lt;br /&gt;Depus a máscara, e tornei a pô-la&lt;br /&gt;Assim é melhor,&lt;br /&gt;Assim sem a máscara.&lt;br /&gt;E volto à personalidade como a um términos de linha.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Álvaro de Campos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19122922-113361841285538242?l=ergopoewords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/feeds/113361841285538242/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19122922&amp;postID=113361841285538242' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19122922/posts/default/113361841285538242'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19122922/posts/default/113361841285538242'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/2005/12/written-face.html' title='The written face'/><author><name>Erica Kaminishi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15361351378767141959</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-19122922.post-113353301684124057</id><published>2005-12-02T23:10:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2005-12-03T19:09:29.100+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Think(onthese)Things</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7278/1886/1600/yanan300.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7278/1886/320/yanan300.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Some videos/documentaries/movies of last month and for whole life...&lt;br /&gt;*Repast (Meshi) 1951 Mikio Naruse&lt;br /&gt;*Floating Clouds (Ukigumo) 1955 Mikio Naruse &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.sensesofcinema.com/contents/02/20/naruse.html"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;http://www.sensesofcinema.com/contents/02/20/naruse.html&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;*Woman in the Dunes (suna no onna) 1964 Hiroshi Teshigahara &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imagesjournal.com/issue09/reviews/womandunes/text.htm"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;http://www.imagesjournal.com/issue09/reviews/womandunes/text.htm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;*Robert Capa: in Love &amp; War, 2003 Anne Makepeace &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.magnumphotos.com/c/htm/TreePf_MAG.aspx?Stat=Photographers_Portfolio&amp;amp;E=29YL53IQQBB"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;http://www.magnumphotos.com/c/htm/TreePf_MAG.aspx?Stat=Photographers_Portfolio&amp;amp;E=29YL53IQQBB&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;*Ed Van Der Elsken: Bye, 1990 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.edvanderelsken.nl/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;http://www.edvanderelsken.nl/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;*Rosas danst Rosas 1997 Thierry De Mey&lt;br /&gt;*Fases: Four Movements to the Music of Steve Reich 2002 Thierry De Mey &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.rosas.be/Rosas/index.html"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;http://www.rosas.be/Rosas/index.html&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;*Coffee and Cigarettes 2003 Jim Jarmusch &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.coffeeandcigarettesmovie.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;http://www.coffeeandcigarettesmovie.com/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;*Charles Bukowski: Born Into This, 2003 John Dullaghan &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.movienet.com/bukowski.html"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;http://www.movienet.com/bukowski.html&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;* Take a look: Christian Boltanski &lt;a href="http://www.tate.org.uk/magazine/issue2/boltanski.htm"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;http://www.tate.org.uk/magazine/issue2/boltanski.htm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Michael Clark &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.michaelclarkcompany.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;http://www.michaelclarkcompany.com/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Gary Hill - Incidence of Catastrophe &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.eai.org/eai/tape.jsp?itemID=3739"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;http://www.eai.org/eai/tape.jsp?itemID=3739&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;There are more, but tiring....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19122922-113353301684124057?l=ergopoewords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/feeds/113353301684124057/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19122922&amp;postID=113353301684124057' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19122922/posts/default/113353301684124057'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19122922/posts/default/113353301684124057'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/2005/12/thinkonthesethings.html' title='Think(onthese)Things'/><author><name>Erica Kaminishi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15361351378767141959</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-19122922.post-113327722547922483</id><published>2005-11-29T23:42:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2005-11-30T00:15:56.820+09:00</updated><title type='text'>The aesthetic of molecular systems</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7278/1886/1600/CYTO.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7278/1886/320/CYTO.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"...biological research is interesting in a general sort of way, but what does it have to do with arts? Desconstruction of biological concepts is intriguing, but is it specifically important to the arts?&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;(...) There is no way to scape the questions being raised about nature, life, sex, humanness, and the body(...) the new technologies also creat unprecedented opportunities. Notions that were once science fiction notions are now most acessible. Peer into the brains and hearts of yourself and others. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Change your sex.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Change your body.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Integrate bionic elements.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Clone yourself.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Create a new organism.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Enhance your intelligence, sex drive, life expectancy, mood, whatever! If these actions can be initiated for science, entertainment, or commerce, why not art?..." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Stephen Wilson (Information Arts; Intersections of art, science and technology, 2002 p.88)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://userwww.sfsu.edu/~swilson/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;http://userwww.sfsu.edu/~swilson/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.genomicart.org/pn-intro.htm"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;http://www.genomicart.org/pn-intro.htm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19122922-113327722547922483?l=ergopoewords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/feeds/113327722547922483/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19122922&amp;postID=113327722547922483' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19122922/posts/default/113327722547922483'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19122922/posts/default/113327722547922483'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/2005/11/aesthetic-of-molecular-systems.html' title='The aesthetic of molecular systems'/><author><name>Erica Kaminishi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15361351378767141959</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-19122922.post-113308468150254315</id><published>2005-11-27T18:31:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2005-11-27T23:26:19.636+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Corpo [espaco][materia][vazio]</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7278/1886/1600/doro400.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7278/1886/320/doro400.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"... o corpo passou a ser muitas vezes o grande palco ou a grande tela de expressao, materializando comentarios sobre sexo, morte, religiao, decadencia e espiritualidade. Sua memoria torna-se um bem valioso e incomensuravel de riquezas afetivas que o artista oferece ao espectador com a cumplicidade e a intimidade de quem abre um diario.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Esse corpo eh um corpo mutante, virtualizado, simulacro das descobertas da ciencia, da solidao que assola a vida urbana, do cliche e da replica, do sentido que se instaura de sua propria ausencia, nos excessos de informacao que se espalham pelos espacos informatizados do mundo pos-industrial..." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Katia Canton ( Arte Contemporanea e corpo virtual, 2002 p.226)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.momat.go.jp/english/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;http://www.momat.go.jp/english/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.lorettalux.de/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;http://www.lorettalux.de/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19122922-113308468150254315?l=ergopoewords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/feeds/113308468150254315/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19122922&amp;postID=113308468150254315' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19122922/posts/default/113308468150254315'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19122922/posts/default/113308468150254315'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/2005/11/corpo-espacomateriavazio.html' title='Corpo [espaco][materia][vazio]'/><author><name>Erica Kaminishi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15361351378767141959</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-19122922.post-113282986814121176</id><published>2005-11-24T19:24:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2005-11-24T20:08:25.310+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Os simbolos sao apenas garrafas vazias</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7278/1886/1600/bourgeois3.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7278/1886/200/bourgeois3.1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;"... Quando Montaigne disse: "Connais-toi toi-meme" [conhece-te a ti mesmo], quis dizer que a unica abordagem util da vida eh conhecer a si mesmo. O que voce experimenta no exterior eh na verdade o que voce experimenta no interior. Eu tenho uma citacao [para voce] que se relaciona a essa ideia: "Nao gosto de cortar, gosto do cortador. Nao gosto de fazer, gosto do fazedor. Nao gosto do assunto, gosto do professor. Nao gosto da arte, gosto do artista..." Louise Bourgeois (picture) - Destruction of the father, Reconstruction of the father (p.307)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"...The artist builds around himself his own solitude , such is his fate (Ortega y Gasset).&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;To paint is to decide for silence. While the discourse of religion – cult and ritual – undergoes demythologization, the "communicative rationality" (Habermas) becomes remythologized: the linguistic turn of modernity, fetishization of media-created discourse and images. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;In art, one is not besides oneself, but remains simply and totally in communion with oneself. To be exiled even within one’s community (Kierkegaard, Ortega y Gasset) is to be separated from the mass – "my circumstance" - , from the "crowd that is untruth" (Kierkegard), it means to recover "the flesh of the world" (Merleau-Ponty), it is a transgression of modernism, logocentrism , logophilia, and the herd, a transgression of plurality that eradicates difference.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;The leveling of pasts, uncontrollable multiplication, the copy of copies which allows neither original nor origin to exist (Deleuze), the "absolute fake" (Eco), are offsprings of a present without depth and a vacuum of memories: the eternal return asparodic (Deleuze), the modern and neo-modern age and its consummation as a self-perpetuating arrangement (Heidegger). The main value of a mass-production is rather iconographic than artistic, a charade of copies (Zimmer)..." Stefan Arteni - Otherwhere, otherwise&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.stefanarteni.net/writings/Shodo/Shodo.html"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;http://www.stefanarteni.net/writings/Shodo/Shodo.html&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19122922-113282986814121176?l=ergopoewords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/feeds/113282986814121176/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19122922&amp;postID=113282986814121176' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19122922/posts/default/113282986814121176'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19122922/posts/default/113282986814121176'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/2005/11/os-simbolos-sao-apenas-garrafas-vazias.html' title='Os simbolos sao apenas garrafas vazias'/><author><name>Erica Kaminishi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15361351378767141959</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-19122922.post-113267305581443250</id><published>2005-11-23T00:12:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2005-11-23T00:28:55.560+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Janela da alma, espelho do mundo</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7278/1886/1600/kinountersternen_orphee.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7278/1886/320/kinountersternen_orphee.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"... a reflexao do olhar eh o espelho; a da alma, a Natureza; e a da Natureza, as artes. Essas reflexoes sao possiveis porque mundo, homem e arte sao feitos do mesmo estofo, dos quatro elementos (terra, agua, ar e fogo ou suas qualidades, seco, umido, frio e quente) e dos quatro humores (sangue, fleugma, bilis amarela e bilis negra), a relacao sendo especular e especulativa, porque tudo participa em tudo e tudo se relaciona com tudo, segundo as leis necessarias da simpatia e da antipatia. Materia, alma do mundo, espirito do mundo, firmamento e divindade estao intricamente vinculados, pois &lt;em&gt;vincular eh o ato primordial de cada ser&lt;/em&gt;, e cada acao, a magia, as artes, a memoria e a ciencia nao sao senao o poder para fazer vinculos. {Nao divaguemos fora do espelho, nao saiamos do espelho} A alma especula com os olhos..." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Marilena Chaui - O Olhar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Imagem: Orpheu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19122922-113267305581443250?l=ergopoewords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/feeds/113267305581443250/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19122922&amp;postID=113267305581443250' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19122922/posts/default/113267305581443250'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19122922/posts/default/113267305581443250'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/2005/11/janela-da-alma-espelho-do-mundo.html' title='Janela da alma, espelho do mundo'/><author><name>Erica Kaminishi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15361351378767141959</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-19122922.post-113258797353016962</id><published>2005-11-22T00:32:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2005-11-22T10:33:25.093+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Ura:arU Palindromes of Gary Hill</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7278/1886/1600/believe4.2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7278/1886/320/believe4.1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"The words are coming&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Listen to them &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Nothing surrounds them &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;They are open &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;They speak of nothing but themselves &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;With perfect reason &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;They sit like deer in a field &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;If I approach them too quickly &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;They fade into the quick of things"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Gary Hill - Happenstance&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.pucsp.br/pos/cos/interlab/arlindo/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;http://www.pucsp.br/pos/cos/interlab/arlindo/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19122922-113258797353016962?l=ergopoewords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/feeds/113258797353016962/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19122922&amp;postID=113258797353016962' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19122922/posts/default/113258797353016962'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19122922/posts/default/113258797353016962'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/2005/11/uraaru-palindromes-of-gary-hill.html' title='Ura:arU Palindromes of Gary Hill'/><author><name>Erica Kaminishi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15361351378767141959</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-19122922.post-113248456863453966</id><published>2005-11-20T19:27:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2005-11-20T22:24:08.440+09:00</updated><title type='text'>L'art Brut- Obsession WithWildWords</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7278/1886/1600/KOSEK_helium_com_p.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7278/1886/1600/kunizo%20matsumoto.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7278/1886/320/kunizo%20matsumoto.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Genuine&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Lost Memory&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Weird Mind&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Boundaries of consciousness&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;But what is the right state of consciousness?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;The written word is the easiest way to be understood? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Eu preciso destas palavras; fracas e inconsolaveis. Eu poderia falar e falar, infinitamente!Palavra dita e bendita, maldita talvez! Compreensao? Eu sou, tu es, ele eh, nos somos. Estou aqui, meu corpo, limites de um estado estatico. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Amor de perdicao? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;落ちる。鏡の中に落ちる。。。&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;我々はどこに落ちるのか。&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;鏡の空間はどこにあるのか。&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;我々はどこにいるのだろうか。&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Drawing: Kunizo Matsumoto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.shiseido.co.jp/house-of-shiseido/html/exhibition.htm"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;http://www.shiseido.co.jp/house-of-shiseido/html/exhibition.htm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19122922-113248456863453966?l=ergopoewords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/feeds/113248456863453966/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19122922&amp;postID=113248456863453966' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19122922/posts/default/113248456863453966'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19122922/posts/default/113248456863453966'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/2005/11/lart-brut-obsession-withwildwords.html' title='L&apos;art Brut- Obsession WithWildWords'/><author><name>Erica Kaminishi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15361351378767141959</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-19122922.post-113241726354960832</id><published>2005-11-19T23:19:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2005-11-20T21:02:44.370+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Ergodicwords?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7278/1886/1600/050823_1632~001.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7278/1886/320/050823_1632%7E001.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; You need some concentration to understand what is written. What you see is not what you see as Frank Stella had told in the 60's.&lt;br /&gt;You may agree to play this game to comprehend the signifier and the signified, they are inseparable between body and soul, body and mind...&lt;br /&gt;What is written is just some signs of the mutable consciousness in this fast-food worldwidewords&lt;br /&gt;Wherever you go, try to read your &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;tiny words&lt;/span&gt;. The reflection of what you see/read in this miserable mirror should shut down your eyes deeply and you may find yourself in the Cocteau's hell and looking for Euridice. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Watch out! Don't look in my eyes. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Mirror&gt;mire usted&gt;sine qua non&lt;&gt; Now, open your eyes, as Tarkovsky said; "Have we courage to face our inner self, the truth?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amorphous-Metamorphosis-Hybrid-Identity-My word has seventeen fingers; [infiniteemptiness] [faceyouinmymirror][amorphousidentity] [wildplantswiseair] One finger point at my navel, it's just me! My own words, stupid words, wrong words, crosswords, game of words...&lt;br /&gt;As I cry, as I need wings and fly in the deep blue ocean of ideas. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;As I beg, I need to be lost and find myself in my dreams... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://grandtextauto.gatech.edu/2005/08/12/clarifying-ergodic-and-cybertext/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;http://grandtextauto.gatech.edu/2005/08/12/clarifying-ergodic-and-cybertext/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19122922-113241726354960832?l=ergopoewords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/feeds/113241726354960832/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19122922&amp;postID=113241726354960832' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19122922/posts/default/113241726354960832'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19122922/posts/default/113241726354960832'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ergopoewords.blogspot.com/2005/11/ergodicwords.html' title='Ergodicwords?'/><author><name>Erica Kaminishi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15361351378767141959</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></feed>
