My blog

I’m having a strop about my blog.

I don’t work on this blog for anyone except me. So if you think it’s a bit abstract, or you don’t really understand it, or you’d rather just read about what I had for breakfast then don’t read it. There’s about eight million blogs out there doing just that. This isn’t one of them.

I take photos and have random thoughts through the day, and that’s what this blog is for. Random stuff. I could write reams about my deepest inner most fantasies, crises, neuroses - but that wouldn’t work because I’d only end up a) upsetting people and b) being sectioned.

I’ve only put tiny images on when they are low quality photos from my camera. Photos from my camera are pretty small, but I don’t want anyone nicking them if I use them in any decent size and I don’t really want to have to set up a new page to open so that photos can be viewed full size.

If you’re really that bothered, you can add a comment. Click on the title of an entry, and then click on ‘comment’.

PS
I had fried egg, beans, mushrooms and tomato for breakfast anytime I want. Most times I just have an espresso.

PPS
Interestingly enough, when I wrote ‘deepest’ then I mistyped it as ‘deppest’. Again. He’s embedded in my mind, like a gorgeous war reporter cornered by my amorous troops.

Bruselas bajo la nieve

Este fin de semana he vuelto a Bruselas. Back home...y la nieve ha transformado mi veja ciudad en un pastel de nata. La nieve obliga a la capital de Europa ha hablar en susurros, como si quisiera oir el sonido del vuelo de cada copo. Estas son sólo algunas instantáneas.

Tom Waits

Tom Waits: todo el mundo está verde

Faros

Definitivamente mis edificios preferidos.

Cómo inventar una historia

Change

Ok, let's face it everything is said, and others have done it better than me......

"There are far, far better things ahead than any we leave behind.”

C.S. Lewis.

Oxford and Cambridge’s Magdalen Colleges fellow.

...Ítaca

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Quan surts per fer el viatge cap a Ítaca,
has de pregar que el camí sigui llarg,
ple d'aventures, ple de coneixences.
Els Lestrígons i els Cíclops,
l'aïrat Posidó, no te n'esfereeixis:
són coses que en el teu camí no trobaràs,
no, mai, si el pensament se't manté alt, si una
emoció escollida
et toca l'esperit i el cos alhora.
Els Lestrígons i els Cíclops,
el feroç Posidó, mai no serà que els topis
si no els portes amb tu dins la teva ànima,
si no és la teva ànima que els dreça davant teu.
Has de pregar que el camí sigui llarg.
Que siguin moltes les matinades d'estiu
que, amb quina delectança, amb quina joia!
entraràs en un port que els teus ulls ignoraven;
que et puguis aturar en mercats fenicis
i comprar-hi les bones coses que s'hi exhibeixen,
corals i nacres, mabres i banussos
i delicats perfums de tota mena:
tanta abundor com puguis de perfums delicats;
que vagis a ciutats d'Egipte, a moltes,
per aprendre i aprendre dels que saben.
Sempre tingues al cor la idea d'Ítaca.
Has d'arribar-hi, és el teu destí.
Però no forcis gens la travessia.
És preferible que duri molts anys
i que ja siguis vell quan fondegis a l'illa,
ric de tot el que hauràs guanyat fent el camí,
sense esperar que t'hagi de dar riqueses Ítaca.
Ítaca t'ha donat el bell viatge.
Sense ella no hauries pas sortit cap a fer-lo.
Res més no té que et pugui ja donar.
I si la trobes pobra, no és que Ítaca t'hagi enganyat.
Savi com bé t'has fet, amb tanta experiència,
ja hauràs pogut comprendre què volen dir les Ítaques.

Konstandinos Kavafis

Ok, I would not say a word about my mood today

Rudyard Kipling favourite room




IF you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: 'Hold on!'

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
' Or walk with Kings - nor lose the common touch,
if neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!

Rudyard Kipling

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El mar en otoño (2)

Bruno, el fotógrafo...

Tres fotos, tres historias

El mar en otoño