a song with no end

when Whitman wrote, “I sing the body electric”

I know what he
meant
I know what he
wanted:

to be completely alive every moment
in spite of the inevitable.

we can’t cheat death but we can make it
work so hard
that when it does take
us

it will have known a victory just as
perfect as
ours.

Charles Bukowski

A song with no end

Photo CPF (September 16, 2017). This was the last place, the exact last room where I saw O. for the last time. I don’t know if he liked Bukowski. I hope he did because I seem to be having a Bukowski moment and this poem made me think of him.

The moment when …

after many years
of hard work and a long voyage
you stand in the centre of your room,
house, half-acre, square mile, island, country,
knowing at last how you got there,
and say, I own this,

is the same moment when the trees unloose
their soft arms from around you,
the birds take back their language,
the cliffs fissure and collapse,
the air moves back from you like a wave
and you can’t breathe.

No, they whisper. You own nothing.
You were a visitor, time after time
climbing the hill, planting the flag, proclaiming.
We never belonged to you.
You never found us.
It was always the other way round.

Margaret Atwood

 

Au noir – Cinematic inspirations

Ascenseur pour l’échafaud, 1958

ascenveur

Les Amants, 1958

Amants

Les liaisons dangereuses, 1959

liasons3

La Notte, 1960

la notte2

Jules et Jim, 1962

jules et jim

Eva, 1962

3.3

eva-1962-001-jeanne-moreau-stanley-baker-bar-00o-192

La baie des anges, 1963

jeanne-moreau-style-bay-of-angels-6-e1331577009996

jeanne-moreau-style-in-bay-of-angels-e1331578608981

baie 3

Claude Mann (Jean Fournier) et Jeanne Moreau (Jackie Demaistre)

jeanne-moreau-bay-of-angels-e1331621617217

baie1

 

1468679918-026-jeanne-moreau-theredlist

 

The cliché is that life is a mountain.

You go up, reach the top and then go down.

To me, life is going up until you are burned by flames.

Life is an accomplishment and each moment has a meaning and you must use it.

Life is given to you like a flat piece of land and everything has to be done.

 I hope that when I am finished, my piece of land will be a beautiful garden, so there is a lot of work.

 

jeanne

 

Photos via

The Red List

Vogue UK

Classiq

New Wave Film.com

References

Like Acting and Loving, Honor suits Jeanne Moreau

 

 

 

No one thinks he’s going to die in the mirror. But sometimes it happens.

Narcissus

Once I was half flower, half self,

That invisible self whose absence inhabits mirrors,

That invisible flower that is always inwardly,

Groping up through us, a kind of outswelling weakness,

Yes once I was half frail, half glittering,

Continually emerging from the store of the self itself,

Always staring at rivers, always

Nodding and leaning to one side, I came gloating up,

And for a while I was half skin half breath,

For a while I was neither one thing nor another,

A waterflame, a variable man-woman of the verges,

Wearing the last self-image I was left with

Before my strenth went down down into the darkness

For the best of the year and lies crumpled

In a clot of sleep at the root of nothings all

Alice Oswald

Post inspired by Eduardo Lourenço’s interview (in Portuguese)

Photo: Me, myself and I by F.M.

By heart

When to the sessions of sweet silent thought

I summon up remembrance of things past,

I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought,

And with old woes new wail my dear time’s waste:

Then can I drown an eye, unus’d to flow,

For precious friends hid in death’s dateless night,

And weep afresh love’s long since cancell’d woe,

And moan th‘ expense of many a vanish’d sight;

Then can I grieve at grievances foregone,

And heavily from woe to woe tell o’er

The sad account of fore-bemoaned moan,

Which I new pay as if not paid before.

But if the while I think on thee, dear friend,

All losses are restor’d, and sorrows end.

Sonnet 30, William Shakespeare

 

My weekend was perfect because of Tiago Rodrigues’s play “By Heart”

My world is, after all, a place of beauty.