The Unfortunate But Tolerated Decay Of Relevant Public Property

(Palacete Pinto Leite - Rua da Maternidade, Porto)

I visited a palace, a few days ago. I didn't know much about it, but it was a ten-minute walk from my flat and I was in an escapist mood, so I decided to just grab my camera, make my way there, and learn.

Well I hate to say it, but it's been a while since I've been this disappointed by a touristic endeavor. The state of the gardens is apparent in the photo above. It left a negative impression on me, right away, but I was willing to excuse it - since it's February and the weather hasn't been exactly picture-perfect. So I walked in, up the steps and into the opulent front room. Intricate columns and ceilings, a red carpet leading up a staircase, and a small peek of a stained glass window above. My excitement returned. I smiled at the man who walked up to me, asked him if I could wander around as I pleased, he said yes. I asked about pictures. He said no, not inside the palace. That... I hadn't expected.

365 Days Ago: January '12

Welcome to our new monthly section, in which I share the photos (and occasional thoughts) that never got to see the light of day during The Great Voluntary Blogging Exhile Of 2012 - we're calling it that, now. This is all old material. And yet somehow, I'm still very much in love with it. Time travel!





It's been a year. I don't wear that skirt, that headband, or rosaries anymore. Time flies.




I bought a tube of red lipstick, wore it twice, and then left it to collect dust.








Experiments in freelensing. It was two in the morning and I had an exam to take the next day.



And this is Agramonte, where I sometimes go to sit on a bench and contemplate the fleeting nature of life. Sort of. Though the first time I went out of pure curiosity, because I think you can learn a lot about a city and its people by the way it treats its dead. I've been to many cemeteries - some feel neutral, some feel opressive, and some feel right out of a Victorian horror story. This one feels peaceful. You're in this contained space right in the middle of the city, and even if there are angry drivers and frustrated office workers and disturbing cat-callers right outside the walls, on the inside there's nothing but a handful of silent, focused people, and a fair share of wandering cats and mischievous seagulls (I swear I've seen one steal the metallic top of a candle). It feels like a bubble in ways that the parks around here do not. So I keep dropping by, most often without planning it, because it might just be the one context where I can sit in a daze and stare at the void for as long as I want without drawing attention to myself. It's a safe place to be alone with my less-than-desirable thoughts.

And it's big enough that I can walk around until my feet ache and nothing else matters.
You know. Perspective through priorities. It's a thing.

xx

Almost There

Let me tell you a secret. The countryside? I've always hated it. The bugs. The dry, yellow grass rubbing against my legs in the summer. That fat, probably pregnant spider I found myself face to face with when I was doing my very own version of gardening a few months ago - read also, I tried to prune some shrubs and now they're all dead. Not sure whether those two incidents are related, but let's be honest, I wasn't doing it for the shrubs anyway. I was doing it to look cool, because two-hand pruning shears are cool.

That's nature in the summer, beginning of autumn, though. While it's still somewhat warm and inviting to all sorts of living creatures, humans included.

But now... now the temperatures have dropped, and the countryside looks like a bright green desert. Nothing moves, other than the crows perched on the walnut trees, and the occasional clump of firebugs chilling on a branch, or maybe on the corner of a stone block. It's quiet, unless the guinea fowl wants attention. These days, we only ever visit the country house to attend to our tiny zoo, which gives me plenty of time to wander. I always take the same route - the animals, the water well (where these shots were taken), the cabbages (always on the look-out for signs of the good old Pieris Brassicae), the few surviving shrubs, and the creek. It's become a somewhat comforting routine, even if I do have to wear three layers and rainboots to be able to complete it in this weather.

Which still doesn't change the fact that I'm only posting to remind myself that exam season is almost done, and then I'll be (somewhat) free to buy a nice jar and start a moss terrarium. And maybe even take on The Cat Skeleton Project...

xx