the hands show the way of the heart

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Dar-me-à-luz

On
May 29, 2015

"Todas as manhãs nós nascemos novamente.
O que fazemos hoje é o que mais importa."

Siddhartha Gautama
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Em Setembro comecei uma viagem. Uma viagem ao mar profundo de mim mesma. Num mergulho atravessei a dor do medo, do desconhecido, das coisas que não consigo agarrar – o futuro.
Em Fevereiro comecei a germinar debaixo da terra fria do Inverno. E em Abril, que é o meu mês, dei-me à luz. Teci este pedaço de tecido com a ajuda da Guida Fonseca, do Lugar do Têxtil. E concretizei o meu propósito: fazer coisas belas, com significado, através das minhas mãos.

O tempo pede que continuemos a parir-nos a nós mesmos, infinitamente.
Que sejamos capazes de suportar qualquer sofrimento com a certeza e a clareza de que para nascer temos sempre de chegar às margens de nós mesmos. Ir ao limite do corpo.

Os meus sonhos ainda estão a dar passos de bébé. A gatinhar e a rebolar no chão. 
Talvez em Setembro, quando as folhas forrarem as ruas, algo especial se levante pela primeira vez.

//

In September I started a journey. A journey to the deep sea inside of me. In a dive I crossed through the pain of the fear, of the unknown, of the things I cannot hold – the future.
In February I began to sprout underneath the cold winter ground. And in April, my month, I gave birth to myself (in portuguese we can also say to give light). I woven this peace of fabric with the help of Guida Fonseca from Lugar do Têxtil. And I accomplished my purpose: to do beautiful and meaningful things through my hands.

Time ask us to keep giving birth to ourselves infinitely.
To be capable of baring with the suffering with confidence and awereness that to be born we always have to reach the shore of ourselves. Go until the limit of our bodies.

My dreams are still walking with baby steps. Crawling and rolling in the floor. 
Maybe in September when leaves are covering the streets something special will raise for the first time.

You don't have to be good

On
May 27, 2015


"You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine. Meanwhile the world goes on. Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain are moving across the landscapes, over the prairies and the rivers. Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air, are heading home again.

Whoever you are, no matter how lonely, the world offers itself to your imagination, calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting -- over and over announcing your place in the family of things."
Mary Oliver