tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-49229940898144604502024-03-19T06:01:01.540-03:00 Indira FerreiraIndira Ferreirahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05801663084605915274noreply@blogger.comBlogger75125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922994089814460450.post-25276257656271086472020-05-13T09:11:00.000-03:002020-05-13T09:11:14.878-03:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;">Fecho os olhos para me conectar
inteiramente com você.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;">Fecho olhos, e a
gente conversa...<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;">Você me responde rapidamente com chutes
galopados.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;">Você me diz que estar tudo bem.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;">Nossos ciclos estão cada vez mais
intensos, já te sinto maior, sinto cada vez mais teu corpo habitando o meu.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;">Logo sentiremos juntos o brilho dos nossos
olhos.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />Indira Ferreirahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05801663084605915274noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922994089814460450.post-80838528815895693692020-05-13T08:41:00.001-03:002020-05-13T08:41:15.788-03:00Obrigada, vó<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #262626; font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">Hoje a saudade me acordou, e no despertar do alvorecer logo lembrei-me dela...</span></div>
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Olhei o celular e vi *12 de maio*, e não pude deixar de dizer: hoje é aniversário de vovó e logo pensei “se viva estivesse” ...</div>
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Olhei o instagram, e ele me recordou uma lembrança, 12 de maio de 2019, comemoração do aniversário de vó, e logo me veio na mente: ano passado a essa hora eu estava lá com ela... Sentei à mesa, botei meu café e num suspiro e outro, pensei “se viva ela estivesse, eu estaria lá com ela agora” ...</div>
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E então entendi que viva ela está, ela vive em meus pensamentos, sentimentos, recordações, ela continua presente nos meus valores, na minha fé, e na profundidade da minha alma.</div>
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Ela se personificou nos meus laços de flores de cabelo, nas minhas pulseiras de miçangas, nos cintos de macramê, no bordado do meu paninho de prato.</div>
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Sim, ela vive, ela reluz, ela acende em mim o amor genuíno...</div>
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E eu só posso dizer: Obrigada vó, obrigada pela doçura de sua alma. Obrigada pelo seu olhar carinhoso, obrigada pelo cuidado, pelos ensinamentos, obrigada vó. Aonde quer que esteja, a senhora vive aqui dentro de mim. 💛✨</div>
</span>Indira Ferreirahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05801663084605915274noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922994089814460450.post-45357627906520218182020-05-13T08:38:00.002-03:002020-05-13T08:41:32.677-03:00Ser mãe é não saber<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #262626; font-family: , "blinkmacsystemfont" , "segoe ui" , "roboto" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">Eu lancei pro universo e fui agraciada com a dádiva de ser mãe. Fiquei pensando no que escrever, e percebi que as palavras não são suficientes para externar todo esse emaranhado de sentimentos bons e sensações que estou sentindo. Aos 31 anos, vai brotar do meu ventre, o meu menino, Otto.</span></div>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #262626; font-family: , "blinkmacsystemfont" , "segoe ui" , "roboto" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #262626; font-family: , "blinkmacsystemfont" , "segoe ui" , "roboto" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">Ser mãe é não saber, ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #262626; font-family: , "blinkmacsystemfont" , "segoe ui" , "roboto" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">é um processo aberto de aprendizado mútuo, de renúncias, de zelo e de medos. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #262626; font-family: , "blinkmacsystemfont" , "segoe ui" , "roboto" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">é compreender que brotamos almas livres, de escolhas e sonhos. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #262626; font-family: , "blinkmacsystemfont" , "segoe ui" , "roboto" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">é guiar os caminhos, mas permitir que os seus pés escolham as veredas para percorrer.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #262626; font-family: , "blinkmacsystemfont" , "segoe ui" , "roboto" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #262626; font-family: , "blinkmacsystemfont" , "segoe ui" , "roboto" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">Ser mãe é realmente não saber,</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #262626; font-family: , "blinkmacsystemfont" , "segoe ui" , "roboto" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #262626; font-family: , "blinkmacsystemfont" , "segoe ui" , "roboto" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">Ser mãe é sentir, ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #262626; font-family: , "blinkmacsystemfont" , "segoe ui" , "roboto" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">é aprender junto,</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #262626; font-family: , "blinkmacsystemfont" , "segoe ui" , "roboto" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #262626; font-family: , "blinkmacsystemfont" , "segoe ui" , "roboto" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">E aqui lanço novamente pro universo, essa construção do SER MÃE. Me lanço nessas entrelinhas, estou disposta a me (re) fazer, (re)aprender, e mais que tudo de amar incondicionalmente (como já te amo).</span></div>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #262626; font-family: , "blinkmacsystemfont" , "segoe ui" , "roboto" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #262626; font-family: , "blinkmacsystemfont" , "segoe ui" , "roboto" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">Gratidão, filho.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #262626; font-family: , "blinkmacsystemfont" , "segoe ui" , "roboto" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #262626; font-family: , "blinkmacsystemfont" , "segoe ui" , "roboto" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">Mamãe te aguarda ansiosamente. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀</span>Indira Ferreirahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05801663084605915274noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922994089814460450.post-55658176960971622742018-11-02T21:37:00.001-03:002018-11-02T21:37:18.808-03:00Os ipês estão floridos<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS6qz76toLViKH_68ppJIu7S2xSHi4bV0Cv6QkAGOf3asZuRjZqyfyWWpGAg1ow9fGqZqCahPlV-i6rgidv5-EdQfkph7l8oIKg5OaI380MBasz2sqHwbkH0ejyDAw3V2zgYKwDxgT1Ls/s1600/IMG-20180909-WA0050-01.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS6qz76toLViKH_68ppJIu7S2xSHi4bV0Cv6QkAGOf3asZuRjZqyfyWWpGAg1ow9fGqZqCahPlV-i6rgidv5-EdQfkph7l8oIKg5OaI380MBasz2sqHwbkH0ejyDAw3V2zgYKwDxgT1Ls/s400/IMG-20180909-WA0050-01.jpeg" width="300" /></a></div>
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Thoureau, que amava muito a natureza, escreveu que se um homem resolver viver nas matas para gozar o mistério da vida selvagem será considerado pessoa estranha ou talvez louca. Se, ao contrário, se puser a cortar as árvores para transformá-las em dinheiro (muito embora vá deixando a desolação por onde passe), será tido como homem trabalhador e responsável. Lembro-me disso todas as manhãs, pois na minha caminhada para o trabalho passo por um ipê rosa florido.</div>
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A beleza é tão grande que fico ali parado, olhando sua copa contra o céu azul. E imagino que os outros, encerrados em suas pequenas bolhas metálicas rodantes, em busca de um destino, devem imaginar que não funciono bem.</div>
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Gosto dos ipês de forma especial. Questão de afinidade. Alegram-se em fazer as coisas ao contrário. As outras árvores fazem o que é normal — abrem-se para o amor na primavera, quando o clima é ameno e o Verão está pra chegar, com seu calor e chuvas. O ipê faz amor justo quando o inverno chega, e a sua copa florida é uma despudorada e triunfante exaltação do cio.</div>
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Conheci os ipês na minha infância, em Minas, os pastos queimados pela geada, a poeira subindo das estradas secas e, no meio dos campos, os ipês solitários, colorindo o Inverno de alegria. O tempo era diferente, moroso como as vacas que voltam em fim de tarde. As coisas andavam ao ritmo da própria vida, nos seus giros naturais. Mas agora, de repente, esta árvore de outros espaços irrompe no meio do asfalto, interrompe o tempo urbano de semáforos, buzinas e ultrapassagens, e eu tenho de parar ante esta aparição do outro mundo. Como aconteceu com Moisés, que pastoreava os rebanhos do sogro, e viu um arbusto pegando fogo, sem se consumir.</div>
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Ao se aproximar para ver melhor, ouviu uma voz que dizia: “Tira as sandálias dos teus pés, pois a terra em que pisas é santa”. Acho que não foi sarça ardente. Deve ter sido um ipê florido. De fato, algo arde, sem queimar, não na árvore, mas na alma. E concluo que o escritor sagrado estava certo. Também eu acho sacrilégio chegar perto e pisar as milhares de flores caídas, tão lindas, agonizantes, tendo já cumprido sua vocação de amor.</div>
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Mas sei que o espaço urbano pensa diferente. O que é milagre para alguns é canseira para a vassoura de outros. Melhor o cimento limpo que a copa colorida. Lembro-me de um pé de ipê, indefeso, com sua casca cortada a toda volta. Meses depois, estava morto, seco. Mas não importa. O ritual de amor no Inverno espalhará sementes pela terra e a vida triunfará sobre a morte, o verde arrebentará o asfalto.</div>
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A despeito de toda a nossa loucura, os ipês continuam fiéis à sua vocação de beleza, e nos esperarão tranquilos. Ainda haverá de vir um tempo em que os homens e a natureza conviverão em harmonia.</div>
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Agora são os ipês rosa. Depois virão os amarelos. Por fim, os brancos.</div>
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Cada um dizendo uma coisa diferente. Três partes de uma brincadeira musical, que certamente teria sido composta por Vivaldi ou Mozart, se tivessem vivido aqui.</div>
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Primeiro movimento, 'Ipê Rosa', andante tranquilo, como o coral de Bach que descreve as ovelhas pastando. Ouve-se o som rural do órgão.</div>
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Segundo movimento, 'Ipê Amarelo', rondo vivace, em que os metais, cores parecidas com as do ipê, fazem soar a exuberância da vida.</div>
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Terceiro movimento, 'Ipê Branco', moderato, em que os violoncelos falam de paz e esperança.</div>
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Penso que os ipês são uma metáfora do que poderíamos ser. Seria bom se pudéssemos nos abrir para o amor no Inverno...</div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; text-align: justify;">Corra o risco de ser considerado louco: vá visitar os ipês. E diga-lhes que eles tornam o seu mundo mais belo. Eles nem o ouvirão e não responderão. Estão muito ocupados com o tempo de amar, que é tão curto. Quem sabe acontecerá com você o que aconteceu com Moisés, e sentirá que ali resplandece a glória divina. (Rubem Alves)</span></div>
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<br />Indira Ferreirahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05801663084605915274noreply@blogger.com0Uauá - BA, Brasil-9.8400216 -39.482928300000026-10.8409991 -40.773821800000029 -8.8390441 -38.192034800000023tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922994089814460450.post-42446749630221361722018-05-23T09:38:00.003-03:002018-05-23T09:38:31.822-03:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03580286856292033160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922994089814460450.post-46921988235668530032018-05-23T09:26:00.000-03:002018-05-23T09:26:00.990-03:00<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_FbZhUKFIS1QdTE8w2vTIAsZITe6M1TeXRCUMuusgQr_aDhQZYthd8NRnFkv4TOhTbsgvzErV8OKSUWTWRpwX9tZQSqmUDVFnUk3sHok14kW8fK8l2XkshogVkY97L0PMoRzOBShhICA/s1600/DSCF0012-01.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_FbZhUKFIS1QdTE8w2vTIAsZITe6M1TeXRCUMuusgQr_aDhQZYthd8NRnFkv4TOhTbsgvzErV8OKSUWTWRpwX9tZQSqmUDVFnUk3sHok14kW8fK8l2XkshogVkY97L0PMoRzOBShhICA/s640/DSCF0012-01.jpeg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Morro do Chapéu - Bahia </td></tr>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03580286856292033160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922994089814460450.post-84793773385815154722018-05-23T09:24:00.003-03:002018-05-23T09:24:26.715-03:00<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisCFpbc3cZy_E73_bcO7AzKVm679OeogR70r7sw3a9mFb59d1_rwClOs4XVRFJOK6GXsgxjyXZSrEkbWufv_Au-88OStMhmkfQ6NkoGl2DN74OoRQU3dXxtfw4-gWP5kUiDyIIPqn57kU/s1600/DSCF0001-01.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1069" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisCFpbc3cZy_E73_bcO7AzKVm679OeogR70r7sw3a9mFb59d1_rwClOs4XVRFJOK6GXsgxjyXZSrEkbWufv_Au-88OStMhmkfQ6NkoGl2DN74OoRQU3dXxtfw4-gWP5kUiDyIIPqn57kU/s1600/DSCF0001-01.jpeg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Morro do Chapéu<br />Olhar: Franz Tagore</span></td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: white; border: 0px; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> "Viajei por mais terras do que aquelas em que toquei... </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; border: 0px; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Vi mais paisagens do que aquelas em que pus os olhos... </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; border: 0px; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Experimentei mais sensações do que todas as sensações que senti." </span></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03580286856292033160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922994089814460450.post-20269818437301447642018-05-21T15:14:00.000-03:002018-05-23T09:21:28.075-03:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBaXSz4U633qD5QDsHBKHOUvjH3i6c2g9ksD-FDLo9JXeP6gfXekpqSoRGUqhdK8bqnxSl1mO7z1ySeGC1GRkS1EhiIGIctLSq8yp2G2ZJJdfQdadGKTOx8eKp2zoid6z0oJIYnSqFSko/s1600/IMG-20180519-WA0034-01.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1032" data-original-width="774" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBaXSz4U633qD5QDsHBKHOUvjH3i6c2g9ksD-FDLo9JXeP6gfXekpqSoRGUqhdK8bqnxSl1mO7z1ySeGC1GRkS1EhiIGIctLSq8yp2G2ZJJdfQdadGKTOx8eKp2zoid6z0oJIYnSqFSko/s1600/IMG-20180519-WA0034-01.jpeg" /></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">"Amor, despertai em mim. Amor despertai em mim, despertai em todos, despertai em todos os lugares, despertai em tudo."</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03580286856292033160noreply@blogger.com0Morro do Chapéu - BA, 44850-000, Brasil-11.5824509 -41.120002799999952-13.5744939 -43.701789799999951 -9.5904078999999989 -38.538215799999954tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922994089814460450.post-60211002985641876502018-03-19T10:39:00.002-03:002018-03-20T17:08:19.279-03:00Flutua<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmXQc_tROIBRY7F97l_Ein3XIMMLBIpyla-ZNdVWmdGGSpozkB6eW3_WrH_DITdx24HU1KmysfCuVCNP_rjaCj2QCHrER1W1m14l21N4uxOosCmofzv_4u49LVZ1UF0JR6lCRF1q6U7dw/s1600/2018-19-03-10-11-21.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmXQc_tROIBRY7F97l_Ein3XIMMLBIpyla-ZNdVWmdGGSpozkB6eW3_WrH_DITdx24HU1KmysfCuVCNP_rjaCj2QCHrER1W1m14l21N4uxOosCmofzv_4u49LVZ1UF0JR6lCRF1q6U7dw/s1600/2018-19-03-10-11-21.jpeg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Olhar: @thaisindiarafc - Ilha do Fogo</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">flutuo em águas mansas</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">e transbordo,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">flutuo </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">sobre a loucura dos sentidos</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">descanso...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">um descanso do mundo que grita a todo instante: corra, acelere, não pare!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">um descanso para a ansiedade que me angustia pela pressa dos afazeres, pela pressa!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">quanto tempo faz aqui dentro?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">quanto tempo faz aí fora?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">quanto tempo gira em torno de mim?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">o tempo flutua entre nós.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglcHx7JmxQkU5F4gieh3kt3gYi9TcjjGBKlYt90ZALwemMcBnBPbqfF4lu-wA2Dfp_PlrLy8e-4vEjf8g0eqY7LZ-tTOfpFhe4iqz1YqPZSdOs5g5hM7XkQ9EDMbvRK9Gm-HXivvoU7-Q/s1600/2018-19-03-10-57-08.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglcHx7JmxQkU5F4gieh3kt3gYi9TcjjGBKlYt90ZALwemMcBnBPbqfF4lu-wA2Dfp_PlrLy8e-4vEjf8g0eqY7LZ-tTOfpFhe4iqz1YqPZSdOs5g5hM7XkQ9EDMbvRK9Gm-HXivvoU7-Q/s1600/2018-19-03-10-57-08.jpeg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Olhar: @thaisindiarafc - Ilha do Fogo</span></td></tr>
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03580286856292033160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922994089814460450.post-72533896501249930672018-03-09T14:53:00.002-03:002018-03-12T16:35:42.834-03:0029 primaveras florescem em meu ser<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3U7SoV3akCKdrEPM1KiRykSfzs7-n2eJ6KxGGJpJ0hTYQSaB14GJ2OGUBz6EM5VR1njRAWHrtUrrp7RZkq3tkNEvmzgtIHszgdIsNYgxA7hZogg4HVID4k_sKkUtGzZOtqURWqADdnRA/s1600/WhatsApp+Image+2018-03-09+at+21.38.26.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="849" data-original-width="1280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3U7SoV3akCKdrEPM1KiRykSfzs7-n2eJ6KxGGJpJ0hTYQSaB14GJ2OGUBz6EM5VR1njRAWHrtUrrp7RZkq3tkNEvmzgtIHszgdIsNYgxA7hZogg4HVID4k_sKkUtGzZOtqURWqADdnRA/s1600/WhatsApp+Image+2018-03-09+at+21.38.26.jpeg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Olhar: Silvia Dantas</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;">Um ser que
tece seu caminho sem medo das dores, pois sabe que elas são precisas para
existir, um ser que está em busca de compreender a vida e suas nuances. Sim,
estou aqui, partilhando com você (que me lê) um pedaço do fio da vida, um fio
fino que está contido todos os nossos traços e afinidades. E eu só agradeço: o cirandar
ao redor sol que fizeram de mim o que sou, sou um tanto de cada um que
transpassa meu universo, sou eu mais a soma de você que convive comigo, que me
ensina, que brota esperança, que faz dos meus dias poesia, música e sonhos.</span><span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; orphans: 2; text-align: justify; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;">E
hoje estou aqui por causa de você. Pois nesta soma é que eu consigo me
transbordar de tudo, pois no raso eu não fico, e entenda que eu quero mergulhar
profundamente em seu SER, para assim também SER parte de você. Gratidão!</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;">“Você
é parte do eu em mim! Então eu e nós somos...</span><span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; orphans: 2; text-align: justify; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;">...parte
do você que te define como humano.”</span><span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03580286856292033160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922994089814460450.post-76280955722425045062018-03-07T10:31:00.001-03:002018-03-08T11:01:23.648-03:00Caminhada dos Umbuzeiros<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Foto de Gildemar Sena - IV Caminhada dos Umbuzeiros</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Foto de Gildemar Sena - IV Caminhada dos Umbuzeiros</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Foto de Guidyon Augusto - IV Caminhada dos Umbuzeiros</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Foto de Roberto Dantas - IV Caminhada dos Umbuzeiros</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Foto de Yane Andrade - IV Caminhada dos Umbuzeiros</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Foto de Rodrigo Souza- IV Caminhada dos Umbuzeiros</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Foto de Gildemar Sena - IV Caminhada dos Umbuzeiros</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Foi na Caminhada dos Umbuzeiros, que se abriram as estradas que fazem de meu ser gente que é gente e acima de tudo, gente povo de identidade.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Foi nos caminhos de Conselheiro, que guiamos nossos passos em busca de algo, e esta compreensão do que buscamos está contida em cada passo que permeia o solo caatingueiro. Buscamos compreender os caminhos espinhosos que sentiu de perto o massacre de um povo que lutou bravamente pelos seus direitos. E de longe, ouço o grito de um sonho e me deparo com a coragem de um povo que não se rendeu; se Canudos expõe as raízes profundas da simbiose de Antônio Conselheiro com seu povo, paira no ar a resistência de quem cultiva vida em seu pedaço de chão. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Cada caminhante no seu ritmo, conhecendo seu limite, ultrapassando-o, e o silêncio carregado de sentidos permeou muitos espaços, o silêncio agitava nossa mente, era um diálogo eloquente consigo mesmo. Sentimos no solado dos nossos pés, o fervor do chão ressequido que pede chuva; porém, as paragens verdes invadiam de esperança nossos sentidos, ressigficam o que é ser SERTÃO. O sertão vive em nós, o sertão somos nós, somos àqueles espinhos, somos o chão seco e fértil, somos a seca e o gotejar que paira do céu; nos iluminamos e brotamos no verde que ressurge. O sertão é metamorfose, e assim nós somos. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Explicar as experiências vividas durante esse processo de imersão na caatinga e dentro de nós vai além do que as palavras podem expressar. E eu ainda estou concebendo esse entendimento...</span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03580286856292033160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922994089814460450.post-88773997392922957162018-01-25T20:47:00.000-03:002018-01-25T21:01:13.162-03:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;">Olhar: Gildemar Sena</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;">Serra do Sobrado - Tributo - Uauá-Bahia</span></div>
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Me dá um atalho,</div>
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uma réstia deste caminho que teus pés pisam</div>
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me mostre quais destas veredas somam verdades</div>
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e anunciam tua chegada</div>
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Venha como o vento, igualmente veloz e indelével </div>
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transponha-se aos caminhos </div>
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e apresente a infinda poética do seu ser.</div>
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Indira Ferreirahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05801663084605915274noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922994089814460450.post-90799439761944141602018-01-24T06:00:00.000-03:002018-01-24T08:33:04.786-03:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDSbVA-YG8OnKv_wDoArlJhobu3NwOJeF5HPD9rQXHwbu6iVk8fSuN5G88ppuYtAW5fs8OhENAawweNUKDm3FIpzJcStdNlUXjmdrjMjDqymqeqAAZXCKX8_X27cqAQpPdGIw3dLkxfik/s1600/20170811_203732.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDSbVA-YG8OnKv_wDoArlJhobu3NwOJeF5HPD9rQXHwbu6iVk8fSuN5G88ppuYtAW5fs8OhENAawweNUKDm3FIpzJcStdNlUXjmdrjMjDqymqeqAAZXCKX8_X27cqAQpPdGIw3dLkxfik/s640/20170811_203732.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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Meu pequeno,<br />
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Um dia, eu e sua mãe fizemos um pacto, desses de crianças que vislumbram um futuro cheio de amor e realizações, um pacto de primas-irmãs, cúmplices de alegrias e de medos.</div>
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O pacto era grandioso, combinamos de partilhar entre si o papel de mãe para os nossos frutos, não te gerei em meu ventre, mas te gerei em meu coração, minha alma desde sempre te esperava, e você chegou para me ensinar tudo o que não sei, mas que preciso aprender. No dia 24 de Janeiro de 2017, sua mainha, sentiu as batidas fortes de seu coração dizendo que já estava na hora de abrir os olhinhos para o mundo, e foi então, que de cima de uma serra, às 5h, recebi o telefonema avisando que você iria desabrochar.</div>
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Foi um ano de descoberta, de medo de não saber os motivos pelos quais você estava chorando, querendo se comunicar com nós adultos desentendidos dos sentidos de ser criança. Dentre esses 12 meses, tive que me ausentar fisicamente, quero que saiba, que distância alguma interromperá minha missão, de também ser sua mãe.</div>
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Um ano se passou, foi rápido? Foi... Hoje você gira e se expande ao novo, um novo ciclo de descobertas incríveis. E eu estou aqui, girando contigo ao redor do sol, brilhe meu amor, os teus passos estão sendo abençoados.</div>
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Com amor,<br />
de sua Dinda.<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03580286856292033160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922994089814460450.post-54374614568451551742018-01-22T16:29:00.003-03:002018-02-14T21:03:17.413-03:00Sentir<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhROnJ6X7DP0yb3W-7WO-HnF9jt2Z8nkwj3LvkmPJlzn2yHsiyoqbwCeOOxOofshyphenhyphenNfyw99gMolqucGrcjiwxjq3jtKyG9N2uWIBnt0RmEfWxvPt9OwPW5AWCR9MZcG-loJTU73QtzFj2U/s1600/received_10202805912545342.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="897" data-original-width="1600" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhROnJ6X7DP0yb3W-7WO-HnF9jt2Z8nkwj3LvkmPJlzn2yHsiyoqbwCeOOxOofshyphenhyphenNfyw99gMolqucGrcjiwxjq3jtKyG9N2uWIBnt0RmEfWxvPt9OwPW5AWCR9MZcG-loJTU73QtzFj2U/s640/received_10202805912545342.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;">Olhar: Gildemar Sena - Serra do Jerônimo- Uauá-Bahia</span></div>
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Sentido. Sentir. Direção. Caminho.<br />
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Busco o que aí se apresenta, uma direção que leve meus pés a sentir minhas raízes, a tranquilidade de uma vida guiada pelo que acredito, uma caminho simples. Em consonância com o que o universo expande.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03580286856292033160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922994089814460450.post-79961527187687420412018-01-22T16:09:00.003-03:002018-01-22T16:35:14.502-03:00Fragmentada<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCw8bCH7uRnxbvuLIlgPWsTiXu-bQ48kYrDZ-dsB0ccl5btzsK8yWUfvIcLebNBdwAZREMxIn3vIAsxRAp5jQA8ZI8jRdxbdMXJoz2E_GR7Hp4OeA4tlJWAoml8pUWjBcdfAWEv7l6GlI/s1600/IMG-20170812-WA0053-01.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="648" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCw8bCH7uRnxbvuLIlgPWsTiXu-bQ48kYrDZ-dsB0ccl5btzsK8yWUfvIcLebNBdwAZREMxIn3vIAsxRAp5jQA8ZI8jRdxbdMXJoz2E_GR7Hp4OeA4tlJWAoml8pUWjBcdfAWEv7l6GlI/s1600/IMG-20170812-WA0053-01.jpeg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;">Olhar: Laís Christinny</span></div>
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Rasgue-me o peito com amor, só assim te direi como as dores são precisas para existir.</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03580286856292033160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922994089814460450.post-7367910693244179992016-11-27T14:58:00.000-03:002016-11-27T14:58:00.271-03:00O que faz de você ser você?<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPu6xb4e9-L2GwBTCjMjcioamFkaakoVO2TY3KBxuF8tmvfYwjWSUkFxF2jPDBsXiUozAz-Ez5vxaPURuC2iz59nHO3aCIfI6OGfTQBVK0-UUAXuBfDtRtJhrx-2D4SgqWJmQpYA624wg/s1600/IMG_20161030_131454.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPu6xb4e9-L2GwBTCjMjcioamFkaakoVO2TY3KBxuF8tmvfYwjWSUkFxF2jPDBsXiUozAz-Ez5vxaPURuC2iz59nHO3aCIfI6OGfTQBVK0-UUAXuBfDtRtJhrx-2D4SgqWJmQpYA624wg/s320/IMG_20161030_131454.jpg" width="192" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Essa latência que permeia meu
espaço não diz exatamente o que sou; esse medo das profundidades dos vazios não
fala por mim; esse amor inacabado, desfeito pelo tempo, escondido nas memórias
inabitáveis, não ressoa o que sou.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">O que sou não se substantiva.
E por isso não se diz com palavras. O que sou é o que sinto.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Indira Ferreirahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05801663084605915274noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922994089814460450.post-86101132466678406982016-02-01T11:06:00.003-03:002016-02-01T11:06:23.817-03:00o sol me abraça<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtTf6HXdGXiynwfVp7xVXoC2KQWS9rOXkW0W1mdimwOtd1Arqiz8MU1pkGJYrP3xem-6ibQ_FHfJJpXaERWkmYMEqPpxwZhxprM_5wSdWOtiUl3XTqpMk-jheGvhbkzZm-Uv6BbLZLcB8/s1600/DSCF9501.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="441" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtTf6HXdGXiynwfVp7xVXoC2KQWS9rOXkW0W1mdimwOtd1Arqiz8MU1pkGJYrP3xem-6ibQ_FHfJJpXaERWkmYMEqPpxwZhxprM_5wSdWOtiUl3XTqpMk-jheGvhbkzZm-Uv6BbLZLcB8/s640/DSCF9501.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03580286856292033160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922994089814460450.post-87887248134742421582016-02-01T10:50:00.002-03:002018-03-08T10:57:29.356-03:00O passarinho e sua (in)completude <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYZnPwNgzI8pBEEUjt8gLc2JaG3Zmnn-RjE4ZSQYiTo5RebfDRehuug8cvpQUXHFv8MSjitdWEmkXyN60ZehQ9zEc35uPKQ6fNejZl9vtbE80PRpyMqw6ath2z741pdn6TtqpRPqjPJE4/s1600/DSCF9534.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="427" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYZnPwNgzI8pBEEUjt8gLc2JaG3Zmnn-RjE4ZSQYiTo5RebfDRehuug8cvpQUXHFv8MSjitdWEmkXyN60ZehQ9zEc35uPKQ6fNejZl9vtbE80PRpyMqw6ath2z741pdn6TtqpRPqjPJE4/s640/DSCF9534.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03580286856292033160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922994089814460450.post-12346217383475917722016-02-01T10:44:00.001-03:002018-03-08T10:58:08.057-03:00Encontro passarinheiro<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI0qOGv5MJwdFVcgOE0AIHJfjZt5TnvtzUKcey8oHWlCykMErYp5yTEKgf3LF7gCpBaQgsMUDLzbry1if3GnSe663BcV7PmryGdxc7Tsv7HvnSgFgFSCzbGdZMCTBWO_Ik_SaTF8VsAIo/s1600/DSCF9512.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI0qOGv5MJwdFVcgOE0AIHJfjZt5TnvtzUKcey8oHWlCykMErYp5yTEKgf3LF7gCpBaQgsMUDLzbry1if3GnSe663BcV7PmryGdxc7Tsv7HvnSgFgFSCzbGdZMCTBWO_Ik_SaTF8VsAIo/s1600/DSCF9512.JPG" /></a></div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03580286856292033160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922994089814460450.post-36037088562364844192016-01-05T10:49:00.002-03:002016-01-05T10:50:46.357-03:00Wislawa Szymborska<div style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: 'Open Sans', Lato, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 1.5;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsqAYpOmHnZqdc5QYsUK1uoiZTgb3777bkU4PcQLfo02eV1QrhWpLkh5hn2cPPGkiDKLQSxVapIGcqVKxMahoUVujSBRWD2eCCeA3HFFbkFKDyjVNYJPTAwycxt2MrOPPaHCdIPSSWqW8/s1600/szymborska-zdjecia-2-124702_L.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsqAYpOmHnZqdc5QYsUK1uoiZTgb3777bkU4PcQLfo02eV1QrhWpLkh5hn2cPPGkiDKLQSxVapIGcqVKxMahoUVujSBRWD2eCCeA3HFFbkFKDyjVNYJPTAwycxt2MrOPPaHCdIPSSWqW8/s320/szymborska-zdjecia-2-124702_L.jpg" width="220" /></a></div>
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<strong style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;">Sob uma estrela pequenina</strong></div>
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Me desculpe o acaso por chamá-lo necessidade.</div>
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Me desculpe a necessidade se ainda assim me engano.</div>
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Que a felicidade não se ofenda por tomá-la como minha.</div>
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Que os mortos me perdoem por luzirem fracamente na memória.</div>
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Me desculpe o tempo pelo tanto de mundo ignorado por segundo.</div>
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Me desculpe o amor antigo por sentir o novo como primeiro.</div>
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Me perdoem, guerras distantes, por trazer flores para casa.</div>
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Me perdoem, feridas abertas, por espetar o dedo.</div>
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Me desculpem os que clamam das profundezas pelo disco de minuetos.</div>
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Me desculpem a gente nas estações pelo sono das cinco da manhã.</div>
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Sinto muito, esperança açulada, se às vezes me rio.</div>
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Sinto muito, desertos, se não lhes levo uma colher de água.</div>
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E você, falcão, há anos o mesmo, na mesma gaiola,</div>
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fitando sem movimento sempre o mesmo ponto,</div>
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me absolva, mesmo se você for um pássaro empalhado.</div>
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Me desculpe a árvore cortada pelas quatro pernas da mesa.</div>
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Me desculpem as grandes perguntas pelas respostas pequenas.</div>
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Verdade, não me dê excessiva atenção.</div>
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Seriedade, me mostre magnanimidade.</div>
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Ature, segredo do ser, se eu puxo os fios das suas vestes.</div>
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Não me acuse, alma, por tê-la raramente.</div>
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Me desculpe tudo, por não estar em toda parte.</div>
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Me desculpem todos, por não saber ser cada um e cada uma.</div>
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Sei que, enquanto viver, nada me justifica</div>
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já que barro o caminho para mim mesma.</div>
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Não me julgues má, fala, por tomar emprestado palavras patéticas,</div>
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e depois me esforçar para fazê-las parecer leves.</div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: 'Open Sans', Lato, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'Open Sans', Lato, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 28.8px;">Wislawa Szymborska</span></div>
© obvious: <a href="http://lounge.obviousmag.org/monica_montone/2014/05/-szymborska-a-prova-de-que-as-mulheres-nao-escrevem-somente-sobre-o-amor.html#ixzz3wNT9HTCq" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; color: #003399; text-decoration: none;">http://lounge.obviousmag.org/monica_montone/2014/05/-szymborska-a-prova-de-que-as-mulheres-nao-escrevem-somente-sobre-o-amor.html#ixzz3wNT9HTCq</a> <br style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;" />Follow us: <a href="http://ec.tynt.com/b/rw?id=d808DA9wqr3O4RadbiUzgI&u=obvious" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; color: #d44949; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">@obvious on Twitter</a> | <a href="http://ec.tynt.com/b/rf?id=d808DA9wqr3O4RadbiUzgI&u=obviousmagazine" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; color: #d44949; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">obviousmagazine on Facebook</a></span>Indira Ferreirahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05801663084605915274noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922994089814460450.post-28117374368803858462015-07-28T11:22:00.002-03:002018-03-08T10:36:30.405-03:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;">Olhar: Schwarzwolf</span></div>
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'Sob o sol a minha vida se alonga e estremece.'</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03580286856292033160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922994089814460450.post-15386364161341081422015-07-24T09:20:00.000-03:002018-03-08T10:35:34.879-03:00<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS9kOL_hfDsVYsr2M1LrklKq3-7-d-nt-H5hjEZ4hZ-9M2SYJ54GBC4c_na1ftJZMVjV5Rlw3zgHAIaFdIVHy5coUnh8G2t7MLCjBlp_ChCFfSiAZYz6ZAQvyZziL4XOmArVN973qRgvc/s1600/20150721_170826+c%25C3%25B3pia.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS9kOL_hfDsVYsr2M1LrklKq3-7-d-nt-H5hjEZ4hZ-9M2SYJ54GBC4c_na1ftJZMVjV5Rlw3zgHAIaFdIVHy5coUnh8G2t7MLCjBlp_ChCFfSiAZYz6ZAQvyZziL4XOmArVN973qRgvc/s1600/20150721_170826+c%25C3%25B3pia.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;">Olhar: Adriana Ferreira</span></div>
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03580286856292033160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922994089814460450.post-56735984895339325662015-07-24T09:13:00.002-03:002018-03-08T10:35:02.405-03:00<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw4czYNjDlWH1v38r-a3Z9IwlNpycEpiFLXJ5z1B5AbU5hG3ntTeiDeuUOdn9ecRRQWiPoSMSanTp1SVJSkeNDiKO-p0Y3mjypafh5wq5hYIBepetaBzIvXQDmvJdd8gUYOTu5Y6rpfO0/s1600/20150721_170855+c%25C3%25B3pia.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw4czYNjDlWH1v38r-a3Z9IwlNpycEpiFLXJ5z1B5AbU5hG3ntTeiDeuUOdn9ecRRQWiPoSMSanTp1SVJSkeNDiKO-p0Y3mjypafh5wq5hYIBepetaBzIvXQDmvJdd8gUYOTu5Y6rpfO0/s640/20150721_170855+c%25C3%25B3pia.jpg" width="384" /></a></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;">Olhar: Adriana Ferreira</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">nem todo quadro quer moldura.</span></div>
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03580286856292033160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922994089814460450.post-87049624531608224392015-07-23T22:17:00.001-03:002018-03-08T09:47:52.659-03:00"Você já se sentiu azul hoje?"<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmjg-vTUyP1wZMcpUuTojAl1GHlMyfDZFoKQGXenXLT0xW-YvuaB9bM24AimnmRc6Sihs2RljSJALTXnAHbqJh6AArGI67MIXFf2gH5t3MmGuXJAEXN4F08s7cDvf4wg6CUw0zrI9o8HE/s1600/DSCF2900+c%25C3%25B3pia.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmjg-vTUyP1wZMcpUuTojAl1GHlMyfDZFoKQGXenXLT0xW-YvuaB9bM24AimnmRc6Sihs2RljSJALTXnAHbqJh6AArGI67MIXFf2gH5t3MmGuXJAEXN4F08s7cDvf4wg6CUw0zrI9o8HE/s400/DSCF2900+c%25C3%25B3pia.jpg" width="330" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Olhar: Adriana Ferreira</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Senti o azul transbordando em mim, </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">como águas que se misturam com a cor do céu.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Eu sou o azul da calmaria, </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">sou o azul do amor que me procura, </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">o azul dos mistérios que não se desvendam</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Eu sou o azul que você sente...</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>(título de autoria de Janefli)</i></span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03580286856292033160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922994089814460450.post-13483265317424623472015-07-22T12:37:00.001-03:002018-03-08T10:34:14.757-03:00<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijKikdXha88QL5yB64D5BKJ-m40TCs1k6OD5ebP1v8US55UAFm_MyjGkWY_oK8z9en3eSFYlON-w6NrufGPNzZpIk6Gkkql753ewoWj8_rs9n4kt6MXl1XH9r641bmr8ixuJHSWh07o28/s1600/20150721_1706155+c%25C3%25B3pia.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijKikdXha88QL5yB64D5BKJ-m40TCs1k6OD5ebP1v8US55UAFm_MyjGkWY_oK8z9en3eSFYlON-w6NrufGPNzZpIk6Gkkql753ewoWj8_rs9n4kt6MXl1XH9r641bmr8ixuJHSWh07o28/s640/20150721_1706155+c%25C3%25B3pia.jpg" width="356" /></a></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;">Olhar: Adriana Ferreira</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">ser tão em flor</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif;">Fazenda do Rodeadouro </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Uauá-Bahia</span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03580286856292033160noreply@blogger.com0