Abril/April
April “And here I heard the birds sing.”
Verse from a rhyme of a later fifteenth-century manuscript, “A Medieval Book of Seasons”, Marie Collins &Virginia Davies, Harper Collins
Matsuo Bashō, “Lips too chilled”, Penguin Classics
Lá fora,
o vale é feito de todas as cores, começaram a nascer os cardos, primeiro botão depois flor, as olaias floriram em tons de rosa pálidos e os lodãos esticam os seus ramos forrados de pequenas folhas verdes, novas, acabadas de nascer, nas oliveiras começam a formar-se as azeitonas.
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Outside,
the valley is awash with every colour. The thistles have begun to sprout—first buds, then flowers. The Judas trees bloom in pale pink hues, and the hackberries stretch out their branches, lined with tiny new green leaves, fresh and just unfurled. The olives are starting to form on the olive trees.
Na última semana de Março chegou a primeira andorinha e “se uma andorinha não faz a Primavera”, com a chegada do mês de Abril a estação confirma-se no esplendor dos seus voos rápidos e delicados que cruzam o céu azul. Sinto uma imensa alegria em encontrá-las todas as manhãs ou nos fins de tarde quando vejo o vale na varanda. Nesta Primavera, vejo cada ser como um pequeno altar onde presto as minhas homenagens. Em tempos tão violentos, agitados por um constante movimento destruidor, encontro espaços de libertação quando paro e estou atenta, presente com os seres que vivem a meu lado. Paro e esse momento, por mais breve que seja, é um lugar onde podemos ser, viver e imaginar. A violência e a destruição são interrompidas porque nesse exacto momento não há qualquer espaço para a sua existência e embora seja um tempo pessoal e interior, a sua existência permite-me não ficar assoberbada com tudo o que se passa à minha volta e ter autonomia e escolhas, de ver possibilidades, de imaginar outros caminhos. Nesse momento o tempo faz-se amplo, criador e estou livre.
E de dia para dia aprendo a expandir esta prática contemplativa e libertadora, ver e ser em comunhão com os outros seres no Vale e arredores, este lugar onde vivemos juntos.
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In the last week of March, the first swallow arrived, and though “one swallow does not make a summer,” with the arrival of April, the season confirms itself in the splendour of their swift, delicate flights crisscrossing the blue sky. I feel immense joy whenever I see them in the mornings or in the late afternoons from the balcony, gazing over the valley. This spring, I see every living being as a small altar where I pay my respects. In such violent times, shaken by relentless destructive forces, I find spaces of liberation when I pause and pay attention—fully present with the creatures that live beside me. I stop, and that moment, however brief, becomes a place where we can simply be, live, and imagine. Violence and destruction are interrupted because, in that exact instant, there is no room for their existence. And though it is a personal, inward time, its very being allows me not to be overwhelmed by all that happens around me—to reclaim autonomy and choice, to see possibilities, to imagine other paths. In that moment, time expands, becomes fertile, and I am free.
Day by day, I am learning to extend this contemplative, liberating practice: to see and be in communion with the other beings of the valley and its surroundings—this place where we live together.
Don R. Eckelberry
“Each species is a patchwork of parts taken from other species. We, the living species, have continually exchanged parts, lineages, organs; what each of us is, what we call our “species”, is only a set of techniques that each living being has borrowed from others. It is because of this continuity-in-transformation that every species shares infinitely many traits with hundreds of other species. The fact that we have eyes, ears, lungs, noses, warm blood — this is something we have in common with millions of other individuals, thousands of other species — and in all of these traits we are only ever partly human. Every species is the metamorphosis of all those that preceded it. One and the same life, cobbling together a new body, a new form, in order to exist differently.
This is the deepest meaning of the Darwinian theory of evolution, the one that biology and pop science don’t want to think about: species are not substances or real entities. They are “life games” (in the same sense as “language games”): unstable and necessarily ephemeral configurations of a life that likes to transit and circulate from one form to another. We have not yet grasped the full consequences of Darwin’s intuition:to say that species are connected by a genetic relationship does not simply mean that living creatures make up one vast family or clan. Above all, it means realizing that the identity of each species is entirely relative: primates may be the parents and humans their children, but we are human only through and in relation to those early primates, just as each of us is not a daughter or a son in absolute sense, but only in relation to our mother and father. Any species identity only describes a particular configuration of continuity (and metamorphosis) with other species.
All of the above also applies to living creatures taken as a whole. There is no opposition between the living and the no-living. Not only is every living creature continuous with the no-living, it is its extension, metamorphosis, and most extreme expression.
Life is always the reincarnation of that which is not alive, a cobbling together of mineral elements, a carnival of the telluric substance of a planet — Gaia, the Earth — which continually presents new faces and creates new modes of being out of even the smallest particle of its disparate, heteroclite body. Every self is a vehicle for the Earth, a vessel that allows the planet to travel without moving.”
Emanuele Coccia, “Metamorphoses”, Polity Press
Cá dentro,
“ouço” todas as manhãs o aparecimento da luz através do chilrear dos pássaros, entoam a melodia da Primavera com que celebram a chegada do novo dia. A casa está mais quente, as plantas que vivem connosco desfrutam do sol que inunda agora a varanda e na companhia delas, os gatos prolongam as suas sestas. Ao mesmo tempo, a chuva tem sido uma presença constante neste mês “Em Abril águas mil”.
Os dias são mais longos.
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Inside,
Every morning, I "hear" the arrival of light through the birds' chirping—they sing the melody of spring, celebrating the new day. The house is warmer now, and the plants that live with us bask in the sunlight flooding the balcony. Beside them, the cats stretch out their naps, languid and content. Yet rain has been a constant companion this month—"April showers" in full swing.
The days grow longer.
Giuseppe Arcimboldo, Primavera/Spring
Colors of the sky seen from the balcony, at the end of the day, in February
No Diario desenhado registo alguns desses momentos, memórias desenhadas. As páginas deste mês são de Fevereiro. Este projecto tem-me proporcionado uma prática semanal onde desenho mais sem a pressão do “desenho final”, mas apenas com o objetivo de expressão do registo dos vários momentos que vou apontando ao longo dos dias, o que para mim é muito libertador. Esses registos, memórias, quando desenhados recriam a sensação de presença do momento em que aconteceram e enquanto as esboço, desenho e pinto são uma espécie de reflexão, uma eco lento daquele espaço de encontro. Junto ainda o prazer de pintar a aguarelas, que é algo que me dá imensa tranquilidade. Não estou a fazer muitos desenhos em cada mês para não ficar assoberbada e tenho usado o seguinte método - pintei Fevereiro o mês que partilho nesta carta, esbocei e desenhei o mês seguinte, neste caso Março e vou apontando momentos de Abril que quero desenhar. Desfrutei bastante deste processo ao longo deste mês e acho que vou continuar a utilizá-lo nos meses seguintes.
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In my sketchbook diary, I capture some of these moments—drawn memories. This month’s pages are filled with February. This project has given me a weekly practice where I draw more freely, without the pressure of creating a "finished piece," but simply to express the fleeting moments I note down over the days. For me, it’s incredibly liberating. These sketches, these memories, when drawn, recreate the feeling of presence from the moments they depict. As I outline, sketch, and paint them, they become a kind of reflection—a slow echo of that shared space of encounter.
I also take great pleasure in painting with watercolours, which brings me immense calm. I’m not making too many drawings each month to avoid feeling overwhelmed, and I’ve been using the following method: I painted February (the month I’m sharing in this letter), sketched and drew March, and have been jotting down moments from April that I’d like to draw. I’ve thoroughly enjoyed this process over the past month, and I think I’ll keep using it in the months ahead.
Breathing & drawing é um projecto que nasceu da minha prática de atenção e presença, dos exercícios respiratórios que faço diariamente e da minha curiosidade por práticas de Arte Terapia (de uma forma autodidacta) relacionadas com a forma como me expresso - o Desenho. A prática deste mês de Abril é inspirada na percepção das cores primaveris ao nosso redor, na utilização da mancha como símbolo de lugar e presença, na sensação de possibilidade e renascimento da estação.
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Breathing & Drawing is a project born from my practice of mindfulness and presence, the breathing exercises I do daily, and my curiosity about art therapy (in a self-taught way) as it relates to my means of expression: drawing. This April’s practice is inspired by the perception of spring colours around us, using washes of colour as symbols of place and presence, and the sensation of possibility and rebirth that the season brings.
Breathing & Drawing
Respirar & Desenhar - um espaço que partilho convosco todos os meses, venham conhecer o “espírito do lugar” e juntos fazemos uma pausa - inspirar * expirar
Sejam bem-vind@s! — entrada aqui
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Breathing & Drawing – a space I share with you every month. Come and get to know the "spirit of the place," and together we’ll take a pause – inhale * exhale.
Welcome! — entry here
25 Abril sempre!
Descer a Avenida acompanhada por amigos e família e um cravo na mão.
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25th of April, always!
Walk down the avenue, surrounded by friends and family, carnation in hand.
Imagens do fanzine que fiz o ano passado para festejar os 50 anos do 25 de Abril.
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Images from the fanzine I made last year to celebrate the 50th anniversary of the 25th of April.
P.S.
Guardo o Post Scriptum para partilhar convosco o que gostei de ver, ouvir e ler.
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I save the Post Scriptum to share with you what I enjoyed seeing, hearing, and reading.
A ver:
See:
Małgorzata Mirga-Tas
A ler:
Reading:
e
A ouvir:
Listen:
Off the Map, To The Best Of Our Knowledge
Prentis Hemphill: Becoming strange to the normalcies of this world,
Green Dreamer
“A fantasia, a invenção, a criatividade pensam, a imaginação vê.”
“Fantasy, invention, creativity think, imagination sees.”
Bruno Munari
L O J A * S H O P
Os Cartões Primavera são um convite para regressarmos à prática da correspondência escrita 🐌📩, partilhar histórias, memórias, ideias e poemas, criar laços e celebrar a estação ! Recebam aqui os vossos cartões e desfrutem da Primavera em comunidade💚
Os Cartões Primavera ainda estão disponíveis até 21 de Junho.
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Spring cards are an invitation to return to the practice of writing correspondence 🐌📩, to share stories, memories, ideas and poems,to create bonds and celebrate the season! Grab your free cards here and enjoy the Spring in community💚
The Spring Cards are available until June 21st.
Regresso em Maio com uma newsletter especial, fiquem bem!
Saudações do vale,
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I'll be back in May with a special newsletter, stay well!
Greetings from the valley,
Débora Figueiredo
