Uma vez peguei numa amiga recente, (polaca, jovem e bonita) cruzei a serra de Sintra e aterrei ao entardecer/início de noite no Cabo da Roca. Bolos típicos quentinhos no colo. Saímos do meu carro para a ventania lá fora. Portátil e bolos na mão. Ambos quentes. Sentamo-nos no chão junto a um pequenino muro, para não sentir o agreste do local. Desembalamos os nossos doces, sorriamos para as nuvens vermelhas e de mil outras cores e o som que jorrava do computador preenchia os poucos espaços em branco. "Such a Perfect Day" Lou Reed. A partir desse momento esta menina ficou especial para mim .. a minha pequenina Zlotko. Outro dia .. no extremo oposto desta jangada que nunca irá a lado nenhum de nome peninsula ibérica, surgiu este entardecer que me enterneceu. Saio da minha feina com um sorriso nos lábios, beijo pronto a sêr disparado na tua direcção ... Pim ... Pam .... Pum.
Showing posts with label cascais. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cascais. Show all posts
Uma vez peguei numa amiga recente, (polaca, jovem e bonita) cruzei a serra de Sintra e aterrei ao entardecer/início de noite no Cabo da Roca. Bolos típicos quentinhos no colo. Saímos do meu carro para a ventania lá fora. Portátil e bolos na mão. Ambos quentes. Sentamo-nos no chão junto a um pequenino muro, para não sentir o agreste do local. Desembalamos os nossos doces, sorriamos para as nuvens vermelhas e de mil outras cores e o som que jorrava do computador preenchia os poucos espaços em branco. "Such a Perfect Day" Lou Reed. A partir desse momento esta menina ficou especial para mim .. a minha pequenina Zlotko. Outro dia .. no extremo oposto desta jangada que nunca irá a lado nenhum de nome peninsula ibérica, surgiu este entardecer que me enterneceu. Saio da minha feina com um sorriso nos lábios, beijo pronto a sêr disparado na tua direcção ... Pim ... Pam .... Pum.
One day i was sad. Sad as i was , headed to the ocean .. crossed the whole Sintra hills and arrived in a suuny afternoon at Guincho. I do not clearly recall but i bet all my inexistent money that on my radio, Bethânia was singing. Parked my car and stared for a while the long stip of sand, the water filled horizon, the mountain ... everything and nothing really. Got out .. as allways the wind was literally mindblowing. Coat. Camera ready to shoot. Laid on the sand and minutes later i heard footsteps on the sand near me .. "someone's passing by..." Minutes later i sat down and took this photo of the person who had just crossed my path. What is she freakin' doing here ..at this time .. with this wind? I kept on shooting , sand ..water ... birds and rocks and after a while approaching this woman i noticed she was crying. I could just stay still or not. I regret too many things in my life to just stand sill when i see this happen. I walked up to her slowly ... not wanting to scare or give her any reasons to feel alarmed. I went smoothly and she noticed in my eyes that she wasn't the only one crying that day on the sand. She was a foreign girl. German i think. We sat down .. talked ..shared thoughts , emotions, fears and pain. And hopes , and a few smiles and laughs. We even hugged gently. When it was so dark that we could only hear the ocean waves but not see them anymore we just went to our cars and prepared to leave. I had in mine a copy of paul auster's book "In the country of lost things" .. i wrote something apropriate on the cover and gave it to her. She smiled again. No tears coming out of her eyes. We never met again .. we did not share names. All i have except for the moment in me is this picture taken from a distance. People do exist.