The falling leaves drift by the window
The autumn leaves of red and gold
I see your lips, the summer kisses
The sun-burned hands I used to hold

Since you went away the days grow long
And soon I’ll hear old winter’s song
But I miss you most of all my darling
When autumn leaves start to fall

C’est une chanson, qui nous ressemble
Toi tu m’aimais et je t’aimais
Nous vivions tous les deux ensemble
Toi que m’aimais moi qui t’aimais
Mais la vie sépare ceux qui s’aiment
Tout doucement sans faire de bruit
Et la mer efface sur le sable les pas des amants désunis

Autumn Leaves by Nat King Cole


The Vikings are coming…



In March 2014 the British Museum will open the Sainsbury Exhibitions Gallery with a major exhibition on the Vikings, supported by BP. The exhibition has been developed with the National Museum of Denmark and the Staatliche Museen zu Berlin (National Museums in Berlin) and focuses on the core period of the Viking Age from the late 8th century to the early 11th century.

The extraordinary Viking expansion from the Scandinavian homelands during this era created a cultural network with contacts from the Caspian Sea to the North Atlantic, and from the Arctic Circle to the Mediterranean. The Vikings will be viewed in a global context that will highlight the multi-faceted influences arising from extensive cultural contacts. The exhibition will capitalise on new research and thousands of recent discoveries by both archaeologists and metal-detectorists, to set the developments of the Viking Age in context. These new finds have changed our understanding of the nature of Viking identity, trade, magic and belief and the role of the warrior in Viking society. Above all, it was the maritime character of Viking society and their extraordinary shipbuilding skills that were key to their achievements. At the centre of the exhibition will be the surviving timbers of a 37-metre-long Viking warship, the longest ever found and never seen before in the UK. Due to its scale and fragility it would not have been possible to display this ship at the British Museum without the new facilities of the Sainsbury Exhibitions Gallery.


Aquest cartell realitzat per la gran exposició que se celebra al British Museum de Londres sobre els Vikings, ha estat realitzat amb la col.laboració de Lou Jazz (http://jazzdenit.blogspot.com.es/) gubies i fusta en mà!! :D

L’espace de moutarde


Una bona mostassa és com l’entrada a una casa. Com construir el llindar que et fa cambiar d’indret. Fa que te n’adonis de les espècies d’espais i et fa cataloga el lloc on has decidit seure i demanar alguna cosa.  En aquell precís moment en que notes l’amarg, el picant, el salat, l’incatalogable sabor de la mostassa, saps que definitivament has obert una porta.

I quan parlo de llindar i d’espai, parlo de Zumthor. I parlo de l’importància de l’aquitectura i del seu confort psicològic. I parlo indublatblement d’aquest fragment: ” Apoyemos la mano en la manecilla y abramos la puerta. Fría, cálida, adaptable o extraña: Es el primer contacto. En muchas ocasiones, esta breve conexión será la única relación táctil que se tendrá con el edificio. Empujamos el peso, sentimos el grueso de los muros del edificio que se cierran encima de nuestro atravesar el umbral; nos detenemos mientras los ojos se adaptan a la penumbra interior, y sentimos en las mejillas el cese del viento y el cambio de temperatura. el acto de traspasar una puerta extraña una de las más ricas experiencias arquitectónicas”

_ Ma del Mar Tomás Cascallo

Charming people


Gent amb encant voltant pels Encants

Born in the troubled city. In Rock and Roll, USA. In the shadow of the tallest building. I vowed I would break away. Listened to the Sunday actors but all they would ever say: That you can’t get away from it, no you can’t get away, no you can’t get away from it. Schooled on the city sidewalks, coldness at every turn. Knew I had to find the exits. I never, ever would return. Scoffed at the prophet’s omens that said I would live to learn. That you can’t get away from it, no you can’t get away. Going unaided toward the west coast, stopped in the sleepy town. Left my change and walked out I didn’t even turn around what they were getting next to was that old familiar sound. That you can’t get away from it, no you can’t get away, no you can’t get away from it. No you can’t get away

In a hotel room in Amsterdam. On a wild and windy August night as a cloud passed over a cold moon. My heart was seized with terror and fright. Seeping up through the floorboards. Coming in through the walls. Coming in through the doorway. Ringing up and down the halls

That you can’t get away from it
No you can’t get away
No you can’t get away from it
No you can’t get away

_Sixto Díaz Rodríguez

Quatre Paraules


Que sobre Cadaqués s’hauria d’haver escrit, que s’escriurà algun  dia un llibre, un gran llibre, complet, confortable, perfecte, no crec pas que sigui possible de dubtar-ne. En realitat si hi ha alguna discrepància, és insignificant. Hi ha qui considera que Cadaqués és un del llocs més bonics del Mediterrani, però per discreció i timidesa s’absté de manifestar-ho. Altres, empetitint el Mediterrani, proclamen, a tots quatre vents, que Cadaqués és el poble més bonic del món. Així, per exemple: Salvador Dalí. La manifestació d’una tal grandesa implica una gran enyorança, una noble i considerable enyorança.

_Josep Pla

Cadaqués i Maiakovski



Bajo los vientres sábanas de agua

que un blanco diente laceraba en las olas.

Las chimeneas rugen, como si recorriesen

lujuria y amor juntos sus gargantas de bronce.

Las barcas se apretujan en la cuna del muelle

prendidas  las ubres de a férrea madre.

En las orejas de los buques sordos

ardían los zarcillos de las áncoras.

_Vladímir Maiakovski

She may search this wide world over


St James Infirmary

at Birland_

It was down in Old Joe’s barroom,
On the corner by the square,
The usual crowd was assembled
And big Joe McKinney was there.

He was standing at my shoulder.
His eyes were bloodshot red;
He turned to the crowd around him,
These are the very words he said:

“I went down to the St. James Infirmary
I saw my baby there,
She’s laid out on a cold white table,
So so cold, so white, so fair.”

_Louis Armstrong