tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-106643196440564532024-03-20T05:47:10.135+00:00Lissabon to BerlimCamila Reishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08459786498347819088noreply@blogger.comBlogger32125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10664319644056453.post-32037569457561243582009-02-12T01:36:00.004+00:002009-02-12T01:45:26.090+00:00Soldadinho de Espuma<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_Qaz_uphkAHd1gtRGLzxUVOeK3ZshqzDWZ_-4P87nu6JvKNWv9tcKcWZKHKFD4GEABLU02BiRhvyDls-hPDhIa3iPhOtTFzjJP6-NZFZK7Ffsxa8LDB2kLqRmpC5jiRzp3VNR9SJSFf4/s1600-h/soldadinho+de+espuma.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_Qaz_uphkAHd1gtRGLzxUVOeK3ZshqzDWZ_-4P87nu6JvKNWv9tcKcWZKHKFD4GEABLU02BiRhvyDls-hPDhIa3iPhOtTFzjJP6-NZFZK7Ffsxa8LDB2kLqRmpC5jiRzp3VNR9SJSFf4/s400/soldadinho+de+espuma.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301718856674018946" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Metro em Berlim - registos do meu diário gráfico</span><div><div><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;text-indent:13.7pt;line-height:150%"><span lang="PT" style="mso-ansi-language:PT"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Devia ter uns dezanove anos de idade. Uns dezanove anos tímidos, inseguros de calejar os olhos dos outros e os gritos de outras bocas. Mas ali estava. De mochila caída entre as pernas, pesadas das botas que carregavam e do seu aperto. Os verdes dançavam na roupa demasiado grande para o seu corpo.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;line-height:150%"><span lang="PT" style="mso-ansi-language:PT"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">A nacionalidade estampada nos ombros mostrava um orgulho e uma vontade que eu não encontrava nos próprios olhos do rapaz. Mas ele ali estava. A caminho de outros verdes, de outros gritos, de outras roupas pesadas.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;line-height:150%"><span lang="PT" style="mso-ansi-language:PT"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">A dada altura, o rapaz tirou cuidadosamente do seu bolso um embrulho carinhoso. Um lanche que imagino ter sido preparado por uma mãe condescendente ou um pai vaidoso. Imagino o que o rapaz sentirá neste momento. Na sua idade os rapazes na Alemanha são obrigados a optar entre o serviço social e o militar. Especulo sobre a razão que o terá levado a escolher o militar. Terá sido vontade própria? Terá querido surpreender alguém, ou surpreender-se a si próprio?</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;line-height:150%"><span lang="PT" style="mso-ansi-language:PT"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Eu só o vi por breves minutos da minha viagem de metro. Não saberei nunca as motivações da sua vida. Sei apenas ter visto o peso dos seus olhos, das suas botas, da sua mochila, da sua roupa demasiado grande para o corpo amedrontado.</span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <!--EndFragment--> </div></div>Camila Reishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08459786498347819088noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10664319644056453.post-87918811212692799262009-02-11T15:29:00.000+00:002009-02-11T15:30:54.265+00:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7YPDJY9b7LXnEns9YGLI-O1NT3uOSDxuQKfqeaF_eVktqOR4I4zDZCcFo14yc0WUVFVGUvutg1RCnEudoPo-t_afb95atrRvu8XxgRSES9vV1dIymdJ7dXYFV-nIi3fOLhTt9iX-u3ic/s1600-h/100_8216.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7YPDJY9b7LXnEns9YGLI-O1NT3uOSDxuQKfqeaF_eVktqOR4I4zDZCcFo14yc0WUVFVGUvutg1RCnEudoPo-t_afb95atrRvu8XxgRSES9vV1dIymdJ7dXYFV-nIi3fOLhTt9iX-u3ic/s400/100_8216.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301562519129924290" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Frankfurt - registos do meu diário gráfico</span>Camila Reishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08459786498347819088noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10664319644056453.post-70502684751179364702009-01-31T02:04:00.003+00:002009-01-31T02:09:43.863+00:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaRDWIlpWy-10uj44oR4mpQ3TmSdHwwSEFcf81fxPH11XejriVg4tMS0-gywKWSvIq2cYZJIah42zyPmqNHz7io3qFfOylXSPTm-jPgsPR3_288HWc8_1-5GdEhO-Vu760SyZ4HwNxQmc/s1600-h/100_7957.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaRDWIlpWy-10uj44oR4mpQ3TmSdHwwSEFcf81fxPH11XejriVg4tMS0-gywKWSvIq2cYZJIah42zyPmqNHz7io3qFfOylXSPTm-jPgsPR3_288HWc8_1-5GdEhO-Vu760SyZ4HwNxQmc/s400/100_7957.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297273814724628930" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Vista para Jänger Straße, Mitte; Berlim - registos do meu diário gráfico</span>Camila Reishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08459786498347819088noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10664319644056453.post-34764261524941019112009-01-25T18:52:00.001+00:002009-01-25T18:54:26.869+00:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV8rAy9zQj894Ld70CnngIEVrIrFphBjJK8meggMoQIb9Pl6oIaiFxYhAVwSr672E8sZd_eJDGIWf8buN9e3LnHnDEAoLEbEcEAJhbZcjSb1TAv3gvU32qQ-a-yuXrGoubPr05zt8pacc/s1600-h/100_7954.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV8rAy9zQj894Ld70CnngIEVrIrFphBjJK8meggMoQIb9Pl6oIaiFxYhAVwSr672E8sZd_eJDGIWf8buN9e3LnHnDEAoLEbEcEAJhbZcjSb1TAv3gvU32qQ-a-yuXrGoubPr05zt8pacc/s400/100_7954.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295306426841598162" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Rio Spree; Berlim - registos do meu diário gráfico</span>Camila Reishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08459786498347819088noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10664319644056453.post-25454157229571874622009-01-09T20:01:00.003+00:002009-01-09T20:08:17.566+00:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrJu6KIM7AoM7-5z_CLuzS6FERqZB-fwiCKkSXRF7DZFht5WuYpqM72dK7GkGVkgWeeMd9D2xNyseg75xCQysTkv2vHqQIny9IfRNawEMIDOrq5uVRhOD4AxSUnPVFX6zUHvG8mBB1S4k/s1600-h/cruel+bed+-+com+fundo.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 381px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrJu6KIM7AoM7-5z_CLuzS6FERqZB-fwiCKkSXRF7DZFht5WuYpqM72dK7GkGVkgWeeMd9D2xNyseg75xCQysTkv2vHqQIny9IfRNawEMIDOrq5uVRhOD4AxSUnPVFX6zUHvG8mBB1S4k/s400/cruel+bed+-+com+fundo.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289386875416187330" /></a><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 24px; font-family:Times;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Ilustração para o poema "Cruel Bed" de Sofia Freire</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 24px;font-family:Times;font-size:13px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 24px; font-family:Times;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">CRUEL BED</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times; font-size: 13px; line-height: 24px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times; font-size: 15px; line-height: 24px; ">I have a very cruel bed<br />She plays around with my sleep<br />… ‘cuz I can’t find you in it<br /><br />I’ve fumbled every inch<br />Pretending about your skin<br />Wrapped with the sheets, I take a spin. Or two<br />Playing inside of your arms, I imagine. Or I remember.<br /><br />But she is really, really bad<br />She should have you dreamin’ in<br />… As I'd fall asleep<br />I'd be just as far as you</span><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times; font-size: 15px; line-height: 24px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times; font-size: 15px; line-height: 24px;">Poema de: Sofia Freire</span></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 24px; font-family:Times;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Ver mais: </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><a href="http://www.musodiarios.blogspot.com/">www.musodiarios.blogspot.com</a></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 24px;font-family:Times;font-size:13px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 24px;font-family:Times;font-size:13px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 24px;font-family:Times;font-size:15px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 24px;font-family:Times;font-size:15px;"><br /></span></div>Camila Reishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08459786498347819088noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10664319644056453.post-51434393372154181432008-12-17T23:11:00.008+00:002008-12-18T02:45:42.644+00:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaqlzFhc2RZzqMMuKhasKpiROvY7XgH-4GVbXLKBgGO4NU1E7D5BDlAEJA9hJvUuDyGyzBA2wd_1rU0TVMRSIfCLUKsVwOBlQeSYlczbrD1FKPQemV5gAj0bHINhRcm7NpivL15TS2FP8/s1600-h/100_7769.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaqlzFhc2RZzqMMuKhasKpiROvY7XgH-4GVbXLKBgGO4NU1E7D5BDlAEJA9hJvUuDyGyzBA2wd_1rU0TVMRSIfCLUKsVwOBlQeSYlczbrD1FKPQemV5gAj0bHINhRcm7NpivL15TS2FP8/s400/100_7769.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280900791373720610" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Orfeu debruçado sobre o corpo de Eurídice; Ópera "Orpheus und Eurydike" no Bode-Museum - registos do meu diário gráfico</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:13px;"><br /></span></div><div><!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:150%;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span lang="PT" style="mso-ansi-language:PT">"Através de povos insubstanciais e fantasmas dos sepultados,<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:150%;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span lang="PT" style="mso-ansi-language:PT">chegou ao pé de Perséfone e do senhor que governa<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:150%;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span lang="PT" style="mso-ansi-language:PT">o desagradável reino das sombras. E dedilhando as cordas,<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:150%"><span lang="PT" style="mso-ansi-language:PT">assim cantou: 'Ó deuses deste mundo situado sob as terras,<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:150%"><span lang="PT" style="mso-ansi-language:PT">no qual voltamos a cair todos quantos nascemos mortais,<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:150%"><span lang="PT" style="mso-ansi-language:PT">se é lícito e permitis falar verdade, e pôr de lado rodeios e<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:150%"><span lang="PT" style="mso-ansi-language:PT">falsidades, não desci aqui para ver as trevas do Tártaro,<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:150%"><span lang="PT" style="mso-ansi-language:PT">nem para acorrentar as três goelas desse vosso monstro,<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:150%"><span lang="PT" style="mso-ansi-language:PT">o rebento da Medusa, cobertas de víboras como pêlos.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:150%"><span lang="PT" style="mso-ansi-language:PT">A razão da minha vinda é a minha esposa, a quem uma serpente,<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:150%"><span lang="PT" style="mso-ansi-language:PT">ao ser pisada, injectou veneno, roubando os anos juvenis.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:150%"><span lang="PT" style="mso-ansi-language:PT">Quis ser capaz de tal suportar, e não negarei que o tentei:<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:150%"><span lang="PT" style="mso-ansi-language:PT">mas o Amor venceu. Famoso é o deus na região superior;<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:150%"><span lang="PT" style="mso-ansi-language:PT">se o é também aqui, não sei.”<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:150%"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">in </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Metamorfoses</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">, de Ovídio (Livro X; vv14-27)</span><br /></p> <!--EndFragment--> </div>Camila Reishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08459786498347819088noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10664319644056453.post-18135628616935743912008-12-17T23:06:00.003+00:002008-12-17T23:26:42.685+00:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjKy-8S3vxePOYLDEV3BrDpGOXb1NutWveqWevO3MokSa9k0ufACWoQiKcktU8TsG8Uu46x9K4_OvpHMe-qI7zKMlHXDd1bltTErH00mtl10MGXdtIq3n3SZ4U1DN2fnWYzQVjM5hXC4k/s1600-h/100_7779.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 286px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjKy-8S3vxePOYLDEV3BrDpGOXb1NutWveqWevO3MokSa9k0ufACWoQiKcktU8TsG8Uu46x9K4_OvpHMe-qI7zKMlHXDd1bltTErH00mtl10MGXdtIq3n3SZ4U1DN2fnWYzQVjM5hXC4k/s400/100_7779.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280899647092546402" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">A Morte entregando Eurídice ao veneno da serpente; Ópera "Orpheus und Eurydike" no Bode-Museum - registos do meu diário gráfico</span>Camila Reishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08459786498347819088noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10664319644056453.post-28214997470212209502008-12-17T22:58:00.002+00:002008-12-17T23:27:05.179+00:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgplvExpwQwWaT7y2tKXq6AL1V_wHE9OVd76ZyY0CxeZU3fzrUPjUvIUhjor9yjFbVKSrTPZ7QoGkCyFLNfDHJ7_KCTO7h1JlVbW0FqoZcxZ5PEVdeVdJRvhzS9GIWYEFO8NeyrJPhsPpM/s1600-h/100_7774.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgplvExpwQwWaT7y2tKXq6AL1V_wHE9OVd76ZyY0CxeZU3fzrUPjUvIUhjor9yjFbVKSrTPZ7QoGkCyFLNfDHJ7_KCTO7h1JlVbW0FqoZcxZ5PEVdeVdJRvhzS9GIWYEFO8NeyrJPhsPpM/s400/100_7774.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280897499175564562" /></a><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Pórtico no átrio de entrada do Bode-Museum - registos do meu diário gráfico</span></div>Camila Reishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08459786498347819088noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10664319644056453.post-81152524100727550052008-12-17T22:57:00.001+00:002008-12-17T22:58:33.357+00:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPM4aAP1pWxbPOcqintYpVfFgAGJ7iVJ6OBMpdd7fp9aLN7P6mlRb0381DZGkW-7_F9wtcNTW-5HogD3qQ2_pOXYoMQqY4kboYveXBZVtEi6h8c-tcsd49lHLl1ogmTuCjIfyDrdE5HTo/s1600-h/100_7764.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPM4aAP1pWxbPOcqintYpVfFgAGJ7iVJ6OBMpdd7fp9aLN7P6mlRb0381DZGkW-7_F9wtcNTW-5HogD3qQ2_pOXYoMQqY4kboYveXBZVtEi6h8c-tcsd49lHLl1ogmTuCjIfyDrdE5HTo/s400/100_7764.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280897104782542738" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Carlos Bica no contrabaixo; concerto no atelier de Thomas Schiegnitz - registos do meu diário gráfico</span>Camila Reishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08459786498347819088noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10664319644056453.post-46906852767768974022008-12-17T22:47:00.002+00:002008-12-17T22:57:07.070+00:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJD4tB3dqLtgpReSKPlqHnX7G6jgtzVrrWrql_fOe7VcRgLpIhwrs6r_qehpAwtUx0sY0yxG6P9-eV1P7kSrByKMF_V33kBIHHugYoTJImPRejlW6QpcIW-2vqLDyITfNSxU-74BBByIo/s1600-h/100_7762.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 285px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJD4tB3dqLtgpReSKPlqHnX7G6jgtzVrrWrql_fOe7VcRgLpIhwrs6r_qehpAwtUx0sY0yxG6P9-eV1P7kSrByKMF_V33kBIHHugYoTJImPRejlW6QpcIW-2vqLDyITfNSxU-74BBByIo/s400/100_7762.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280895985749440146" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Carlos Bica, Chris Dahlgren e dois contrabaixos; concerto no atelier de Thomas Schiegnitz - registos do meu diário gráfico</span>Camila Reishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08459786498347819088noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10664319644056453.post-64304160881747141242008-12-08T00:00:00.002+00:002008-12-08T00:04:56.665+00:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXaOFeN29cfCAq6eNXDxN0McC3T4pUavHkK-r8lUc-En1xij7Wi_CPQ1iIgh0rHdLQ5jEQrS84DX4JybMLLGTTeitrANzqGhNnul5owZ7UqRgM8RHKLqirPS3RFGZXmOVE3plqE_tzwus/s1600-h/100_7718.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXaOFeN29cfCAq6eNXDxN0McC3T4pUavHkK-r8lUc-En1xij7Wi_CPQ1iIgh0rHdLQ5jEQrS84DX4JybMLLGTTeitrANzqGhNnul5owZ7UqRgM8RHKLqirPS3RFGZXmOVE3plqE_tzwus/s400/100_7718.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277202839630326450" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;">Órgão na Igreja Kreuzkirche; Dresden - registos do meu diário gráfico</span>Camila Reishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08459786498347819088noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10664319644056453.post-4052660163513787382008-11-30T02:20:00.001+00:002008-11-30T02:22:24.922+00:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoeEic6Rqn-9NAX5WvRWGhPxKIBKLwGssv-o1LeR_8AjKz9He5Odvtsd3j5Y5L4yCYNLWhe13OiouDUIsnERZAHATe25naR8vnnPkFusKxQd7XSubAUbeSk37TVqf0ObbHslwkyIcmEN4/s1600-h/kulturen.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 298px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoeEic6Rqn-9NAX5WvRWGhPxKIBKLwGssv-o1LeR_8AjKz9He5Odvtsd3j5Y5L4yCYNLWhe13OiouDUIsnERZAHATe25naR8vnnPkFusKxQd7XSubAUbeSk37TVqf0ObbHslwkyIcmEN4/s400/kulturen.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274270077927319522" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Haus der Kulturen der Welt; Tiergarten, Berlim - registos do meu diário gráfico</span>Camila Reishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08459786498347819088noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10664319644056453.post-74770393120634603812008-11-30T02:14:00.000+00:002008-11-30T02:16:26.378+00:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtUIyyYvS3H3U82H1mTUClXG9dLqKJM20d7U49mcwzpiASY_9gMqbkxyLQ1W8dADqlAsdCQB6Tb5G-LP2VeQo2wEQatA5pO73l5olyjy9ZWXSuq9DDdy-21AmtVyWiNnGfyJjJRB1MCq4/s1600-h/Nefertiti.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtUIyyYvS3H3U82H1mTUClXG9dLqKJM20d7U49mcwzpiASY_9gMqbkxyLQ1W8dADqlAsdCQB6Tb5G-LP2VeQo2wEQatA5pO73l5olyjy9ZWXSuq9DDdy-21AmtVyWiNnGfyJjJRB1MCq4/s400/Nefertiti.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274268386457516050" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Nefertiti; Altes Museum, Berlim - registos do meu diário gráfico</span>Camila Reishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08459786498347819088noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10664319644056453.post-49612633236098280312008-11-19T19:16:00.000+00:002008-11-19T19:18:32.398+00:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNv6K6XZnv9rUzqImiXpmyNamI3Ew0Zib8ALDlcH5qTOo0d_wzibh_8Me2DLsytpbyuWEESUqNK-BJsW9DMDaNDrGaIulVSRigE81ugAZPmPJ5qvAo76LpUkrYDsSaqwkjuTbJRYyhxZs/s1600-h/100_7551.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNv6K6XZnv9rUzqImiXpmyNamI3Ew0Zib8ALDlcH5qTOo0d_wzibh_8Me2DLsytpbyuWEESUqNK-BJsW9DMDaNDrGaIulVSRigE81ugAZPmPJ5qvAo76LpUkrYDsSaqwkjuTbJRYyhxZs/s400/100_7551.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270449936331194834" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Mercado de Natal; Potsdamer Platz - registos do meu diário gráfico</span>Camila Reishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08459786498347819088noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10664319644056453.post-8422853348647653082008-11-19T19:09:00.003+00:002008-11-19T19:19:34.930+00:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzkMfH5jhCfq039z7L0auW3UJ2aoBMGzwL_ptBcY-1IhrewBqe6LRyJFG1sgYrL-kcOgJkGLnmSp0mHV1tcnoge450vY6KRnYUN1pz8iAgqZfZLjpc0T4FM1OZxkYuvQbMTA94Ol2eoF0/s1600-h/100_7548.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzkMfH5jhCfq039z7L0auW3UJ2aoBMGzwL_ptBcY-1IhrewBqe6LRyJFG1sgYrL-kcOgJkGLnmSp0mHV1tcnoge450vY6KRnYUN1pz8iAgqZfZLjpc0T4FM1OZxkYuvQbMTA94Ol2eoF0/s400/100_7548.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270448015124559842" /></a><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Já começam a aparecer os Mercados de Natal; Potsdamer Platz - registos do meu diário gráfico</span></div>Camila Reishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08459786498347819088noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10664319644056453.post-4555613376051150402008-11-08T20:14:00.006+00:002008-11-08T20:34:59.846+00:00Não me lembras o céu<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;text-indent:13.5pt;line-height:150%"><span lang="PT" style="mso-ansi-language:PT">Hoje as nuvens conseguiram separar-se um pouco umas das outras. Formaram-se letras no céu, desenhadas por lutadores raios de sol que a muito custo se fizeram ver. Por breves momentos, o Sol ganhou à teimosia do céu e conseguiu, finalmente, acariciar suavemente uma lisboeta saudosa da sua luz.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;line-height:150%"><span lang="PT" style="mso-ansi-language:PT">Durante as últimas duas semanas, nada mais se estendera senão um tecto impenetrável sobre toda a cidade de Berlim. Não encontrava sombras que testemunhassem a presença<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>das pessoas e dos magníficos edifícios das grandes praças ou das ruas estreitas. Só tinha as folhas outonais, perdidas nos passeios, para me relembrar as cores quentes da luz que deveria encontrar no céu.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;line-height:150%"><span lang="PT" style="mso-ansi-language:PT">Às vezes sentia nos ombros a pressão deste céu cinzento, um peso que, apesar de tudo, não parece entristecer completamente estes lugares. A cidade continua linda, só não é amada. As catedrais parecem querer erguer-se aos céus, como uma criança que se estica puxando as saias da mãe e não compreende por que não é merecedora da sua atenção.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;line-height:150%"><span lang="PT" style="mso-ansi-language:PT">Nunca havia sentido este desejo de subitamente parar na rua e, com a mesma vontade que existiu há dezanove anos nesta mesma cidade, derrubar este muro feito de densas nuvens que não me deixavam vislumbrar ínfimas partículas de um azul longínquo. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;line-height:150%"><span lang="PT" style="mso-ansi-language:PT">Submetida à minha incapacidade de abrir esta janela imensa, que não diferencia claramente a noite do dia, surge-me à memória a sua definição cantada “Não me lembras o céu / Nem nada que se pareça / Não me lembras a Lua / Nem nada que se escureça”*.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;line-height:150%"><span lang="PT" style="mso-ansi-language:PT">Mas hoje as nuvens cederam. E por breves instantes pude idealizar o brilho das coisas, o seu sorriso luminoso, num momento único. Quase perfeito.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;line-height:150%"><a href="http://donnamarialetras.blogspot.com/2005/08/quase-perfeito_16.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 10px; ">*Donna Maria, "Quase Perfeito"</span></a><br /></p> <!--EndFragment-->Camila Reishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08459786498347819088noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10664319644056453.post-28547738090556964902008-11-08T00:25:00.005+00:002008-11-08T00:38:52.573+00:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFxEkAoBLV9HiA1t24H2FfYThX15zBnh2H4XEyw5NgF6_Qkp0sObkHS58wEk9GXr1t0qoeei_rd8lGIxl_Lq8RoAc4WBIgqe_Z3U5YYmoyLxcsb7e_QD-89SKpqw4BkK615pBGlWUarg8/s1600-h/100_7287.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 297px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFxEkAoBLV9HiA1t24H2FfYThX15zBnh2H4XEyw5NgF6_Qkp0sObkHS58wEk9GXr1t0qoeei_rd8lGIxl_Lq8RoAc4WBIgqe_Z3U5YYmoyLxcsb7e_QD-89SKpqw4BkK615pBGlWUarg8/s400/100_7287.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266079152224053346" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Alt - Moabit, Berlim - registos do meu diário gráfico</span>Camila Reishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08459786498347819088noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10664319644056453.post-91814278420418487212008-10-29T16:03:00.002+00:002008-10-29T16:06:44.876+00:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgThncNvPoUzc6QdSWKnfwY04YLUkQqdv-bIYzqCTYNAAT0f82box78xw67mkgcHG5y4r3SgtFLbceNin10bO3HX-JPit799FOuy-318WG3J5fQ64dhYZxis8ghCmX6DTfmNrc8jAZsrro/s1600-h/100_7226.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgThncNvPoUzc6QdSWKnfwY04YLUkQqdv-bIYzqCTYNAAT0f82box78xw67mkgcHG5y4r3SgtFLbceNin10bO3HX-JPit799FOuy-318WG3J5fQ64dhYZxis8ghCmX6DTfmNrc8jAZsrro/s400/100_7226.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262607866493596194" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Interior da Igreja/Galeria de Arte St. Matthäus - registo fotográfico.</span>Camila Reishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08459786498347819088noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10664319644056453.post-58159097069951068322008-10-29T16:01:00.000+00:002008-10-29T16:03:27.091+00:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh84ilFw6IjpqleN4QkGdhLNk3zOLkTKXapTMNFGvMz2GkRwLN7cgGO0nWe8yKLLLmaMfHK-YdkXOtC9LcdGizi0sK_xuV-Xk0qIuq_VqelMx0kcJn2YTK-l79i69abrkKnukNGK7DxYC0/s1600-h/igreja"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 264px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh84ilFw6IjpqleN4QkGdhLNk3zOLkTKXapTMNFGvMz2GkRwLN7cgGO0nWe8yKLLLmaMfHK-YdkXOtC9LcdGizi0sK_xuV-Xk0qIuq_VqelMx0kcJn2YTK-l79i69abrkKnukNGK7DxYC0/s400/igreja" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262606841887038098" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Exterior da Igreja St. Matthäus - registos do meu diário gráfico</span>Camila Reishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08459786498347819088noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10664319644056453.post-3645357195656085552008-10-29T15:51:00.004+00:002008-10-29T15:58:05.329+00:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE3Rz7e4zZkeK8IVlZoMPT1xjZKOtUgbEG0-PD0USaMIKpnhGJIzcPGqjQ6mkXkbgMOSaOzSNwxnnLF-uV0TnO43g6kB3S19OU9VsAxHaPswQKXXgoQUoquDCp_9TJpoFhpBubcXLA4-o/s1600-h/imagemlost"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 290px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE3Rz7e4zZkeK8IVlZoMPT1xjZKOtUgbEG0-PD0USaMIKpnhGJIzcPGqjQ6mkXkbgMOSaOzSNwxnnLF-uV0TnO43g6kB3S19OU9VsAxHaPswQKXXgoQUoquDCp_9TJpoFhpBubcXLA4-o/s400/imagemlost" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262604699447464642" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">36'50" Lost, 10º episódio; 3ª temporada - registo do meu <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">diário</span> gráfico.</span><br /><!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;text-indent:9.0pt;line-height:150%"><!--StartFragment--> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;line-height:150%"><span lang="PT" style="mso-ansi-language:PT"> <!--StartFragment--> </span></p><span lang="PT" style="mso-ansi-language:PT"><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;text-indent:13.5pt"><span lang="PT" style="mso-ansi-language:PT">É mais fácil acreditar em milagres do que duvidar do Amor. É mais sensato negar as maldições e entregarmo-nos à sorte que sabemos guardada para nós.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="PT" style="mso-ansi-language:PT">A luz brilha doutra forma no espaço mais profundo nossos olhos, em concordância com a nova cor que o céu faz abrir. E se um espaço verde se abre em frente, uma nova liberdade ressurge da prisão dos medos.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span lang="PT" style="mso-ansi-language:PT">Se um dia julgarmos estarmos entregues à insanidade que os perigos – ou a possibilidade de perigos – nos fazem sentir, então é hora de nos prepararmos para um momento de expansão, a chamada pura ‘diversão’, por mais anacrónico que possa ser. É pela bizarria desse instante que se abrirão novos caminhos para enfrentar tudo o resto. E aí acontece o milagre.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <!--EndFragment--> </span><p></p> <!--EndFragment--> <p></p> <!--EndFragment-->Camila Reishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08459786498347819088noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10664319644056453.post-62205766382964835122008-10-15T19:14:00.003+01:002008-10-15T19:19:30.627+01:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdTA-IzuhsZhVNATA72UqsVa6Ho5_6FV9Do0QKuyE1t2GfzRu8LohaLhnHhqIVVaRTlHoniEsrrhHQQUsqEFfzsOYQFwSfy09rryIBAXXOBR_vHulPN4Gy3BJVjfDmQfOCpsb7v9vTcYM/s1600-h/contrabaixista"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdTA-IzuhsZhVNATA72UqsVa6Ho5_6FV9Do0QKuyE1t2GfzRu8LohaLhnHhqIVVaRTlHoniEsrrhHQQUsqEFfzsOYQFwSfy09rryIBAXXOBR_vHulPN4Gy3BJVjfDmQfOCpsb7v9vTcYM/s400/contrabaixista" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257446509245061138" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">A quem deixo o meu especial obrigado: Carlos Bica, no contrabaixo, no concerto em Werkstatt der Kulturen - registos do meu diário gráfico.</span>Camila Reishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08459786498347819088noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10664319644056453.post-75536753077787045922008-10-15T19:11:00.002+01:002008-10-15T19:14:26.181+01:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEfPBXOgXGNE7LGBD-NBcNBQY0vTORmw3YE3qYLkqyUEKVdT4Z6O_bnjA4RSp_We4sDdpUpTI97PBwHThyVwnKNBaLAP_9N3fUZEE0_GVJNmV9AQ2VTRYPM1sCu_Kl7oAsqdH6VIC7cgY/s1600-h/pianista"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEfPBXOgXGNE7LGBD-NBcNBQY0vTORmw3YE3qYLkqyUEKVdT4Z6O_bnjA4RSp_We4sDdpUpTI97PBwHThyVwnKNBaLAP_9N3fUZEE0_GVJNmV9AQ2VTRYPM1sCu_Kl7oAsqdH6VIC7cgY/s400/pianista" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257445613636517490" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Concerto em Werkstatt der Kulturen. Carsten Daerr - registos do meu diário gráfico.</span>Camila Reishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08459786498347819088noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10664319644056453.post-69431823544254885982008-10-15T19:08:00.002+01:002008-10-15T19:11:50.285+01:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFGPiQkZMdSgl6-ZLIE1tJTb4fYlE2HzTMhyphenhyphenXlsz3qH9bop-W3GwSBJhxyF5yxmAARabfoSUmQ645L-zTBbwdQWB7vLikaOf4KmkgQeZ83YuPFxsvCazNFyndfqOV0yGQr9AA_nG1x5CM/s1600-h/vocalista"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFGPiQkZMdSgl6-ZLIE1tJTb4fYlE2HzTMhyphenhyphenXlsz3qH9bop-W3GwSBJhxyF5yxmAARabfoSUmQ645L-zTBbwdQWB7vLikaOf4KmkgQeZ83YuPFxsvCazNFyndfqOV0yGQr9AA_nG1x5CM/s400/vocalista" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257444943382980802" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Concerto em Werkstatt der Kulturen. Kristiina Tuomi - registos do meu diário gráfico.</span>Camila Reishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08459786498347819088noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10664319644056453.post-31957020577092709772008-10-15T19:00:00.002+01:002008-10-15T19:08:14.515+01:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIQUMhaQPKztAB6T_50YD0ia9eqGH3j6CjSZgzilteKO_1EKq4CpLOfKZuIAI2XyBzqgl6lZmNJHoXBliIObYhPBNxdMgG4UN6L68h3OxOJkjExx2nL-7dlwkEPMtYBIP8ZYD9YH9OgJk/s1600-h/grupo"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIQUMhaQPKztAB6T_50YD0ia9eqGH3j6CjSZgzilteKO_1EKq4CpLOfKZuIAI2XyBzqgl6lZmNJHoXBliIObYhPBNxdMgG4UN6L68h3OxOJkjExx2nL-7dlwkEPMtYBIP8ZYD9YH9OgJk/s400/grupo" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257444004515757298" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Concerto em Werkstatt der Kulturen, Berlim. Kristiina Tuomi na voz, Carsten Daerr no piano e Carlos Bica no contrabaixo - registos do meu diário gráfico.</span>Camila Reishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08459786498347819088noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10664319644056453.post-47615130762721750012008-10-13T08:36:00.005+01:002008-10-13T11:50:06.701+01:00<div> <iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dybZrKKNbsoN0pu-ggBPw-1jg-0AGSxI__veAbaZVCEmcZ5sIDJw5uOPpu3RPJ0B32XEJQqHo6k24qjmNzb' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><div>Primeiro registo audiovisual.<br /></div><div><br /></div>Camila Reishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08459786498347819088noreply@blogger.com14