Microsoft Sustainability

L’incroyable présentation de ce que pourrait être le quotidien du futur et l’avenir technologique en 2019 selon le constructeur Microsoft. Un travail préparé par les services R&D montrant l’association du tactile et du papier numérique. Plus d’images et vidéo dans la suite.

Poucos livros mudam uma vida. Mas, quando eles a mudam é para sempre.

This Is Where We Live from 4th Estate on Vimeo.

Alcatrão

Um profeta tão antigo como Isaías, que viveu centenas de anos antes de Cristo, disse que as águas do céu, as chuvas, não voltaram para lá sem terem regado e fecundado a terra. Assim será também com as palavras de amizade e de verdade que vêm de Deus. Mas entretanto nós começámos a alcatroar tudo e mais alguma coisa e já não é verdade que a chuva regue!... Também nós nos queixamos de não haver nada de bom, mas alcatroámos o coração e pusemos tampões nos ouvidos. Como se quiséssemos que as auto-estradas produzam trigo só porque chove...

Violinist in the METRO

A man sat at a metro station in Washington DC and started to play the violin; it was a cold January morning.
He played six Bach pieces for about 45 minutes. During that time, since it was rush hour, it was calculated that thousands of people went through the station, most of them on their way to work.

Three minutes went by and a middle aged man noticed there was musician playing. He slowed his pace and stopped for a few seconds and then hurried up to meet his schedule.

A minute later, the violinist received his first dollar tip: a woman threw the money in the till and without stopping continued to walk.

A few minutes later, someone leaned against the wall to listen to him, but the man looked at his watch and started to walk again. Clearly he was late for work.

The one who paid the most attention was a 3 year old boy. His mother tagged him along, hurried but the kid stopped to look at the violinist. Finally the mother pushed hard and the child continued to walk turning his head all the time. This action was repeated by several other children. All the parents, without exception, forced them to move on.

In the 45 minutes the musician played, only 6 people stopped and stayed for a while. About 20 gave him money but continued to walk their normal pace.
He collected $32.
When he finished playing and silence took over, no one noticed it.
No one applauded, nor was there any recognition.

No one knew this but the violinist was Joshua Bell, one of the best musicians in the world. He played one of the most intricate pieces ever written with a violin worth 3.5 million dollars.

Two days before his playing in the subway, Joshua Bell sold out at a theater in Boston and the seats average $100.

Joshua Bell playing incognito in the metro station was organized by the Washington Post as part of an social experiment about perception, taste and priorities of people. The outlines were: in a commonplace environment at an inappropriate hour: Do we perceive beauty? Do we stop to appreciate it? Do we recognize the talent in an unexpected context?

One of the possible conclusions from this experience could be:

If we do not have a moment to stop and listen to one of the best musicians in the world playing the best music ever written, how many other things are we missing?

My additional thoughts would only be that so many people do things because they are "fashionable" that they forget to look at things with their own eyes, listen with their own ears, and appreciate anything with their own hearts.

Prospecção, de Miguel Torga

Não são pepitas de oiro que procuro.
Oiro dentro de mim, terra singela!
Busco apenas aquela
Universal riqueza
Do homem que revolve a solidão:
O tesoiro sagrado
De nenhuma certeza,
Soterrado
Por mil certezas de aluvião.
Cavo,
Lavo,
Peneiro,
Mas só quero a fortuna
De me encontrar.
Poeta antes dos versos
E sede antes da fonte.
Puro como um deserto.
Inteiramente nu e descoberto.

Miguel Torga,
Poesia Completa

Há coisas que me fazem pensar...

Penso no valor dos outros por trás, por baixo e por cima das suas pessoais e intransmissíveis paredes sombrias, dos seus lados toldados pela escuridão.
Penso em ti e em mim, nas coisas que é possível perscrutar deste outro lado.
- não da plateia mas do palco; não de cima mas por entre.

I can hear you!

A hora inclina-se...

A hora inclina-se e toca-me
com golpe claro, metálico:
Tremem-me os sentidos. Sinto: eu posso -
e agarro o dia plástico.

Nenhuma coisa era perfeita antes de eu a olhar,
todo o devir parara.
A cada um dos meus olhares, agora já maduros,
vem, como noiva, a coisa apetecida.

Nada é pequeno para mim, e amo-o apesar de tudo
e pinto-o em fundo ouro, e grande,
e ergo-o ao alto, e não sei a quem
libertará a alma...

Rainer Maria Rilke
in O Livro da Vida Monástica (1899)