a toupeira que queria ver o cometa – Duration: 17 minutes. views; 7 years ago. Play next; Play now. GM STRIKE – Duration: 4 minutes, 22 seconds. Sinfonia Pastoral André Gide; A Sombra do Vento Carlos Ruiz Zafón; A Terra dos Cegos H. G. Wells; A Toupeira Que Queria ver o Cometa Rubem Alves Dez. Meaning of toupeira in the Portuguese dictionary with examples of use. Synonyms for toupeira Toupeira que queria ver o cometa (A). Neste livro ceguinha.

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French edition originally published on the occasion of an exhibition held at the Louvre Museum, Paris: October 26, – Jan. Memoirs of the Blind: The Self-Portrait and Other Ruins 3. Do you believe this [vous croyez]? You’ll observe that from the very beginning of vet interview I’ve had problems following you.

But skepticism is precisely what I’ve been talking to you about: Before doubt ever becomes a system, skepsis has foupeira do with the eyes. The word refers to a visual perception, to the observation, vigilance, and attention of the gaze [regard] during an examination.

One is on the lookout, one reflects upon what one sees, reflects what one sees by delaying the moment of conclusion. Keeping [gardant] the thing in sight, one keeps on looking at it [on la regarde]. The judgment depends on the hypothesis. So as not to forget them along the way, so that coeta be made clear, let me summarize: You seem to fear the monocular vision of things.

Memoirs of the blind: the self-portrait and other ruins – Jacques Derrida

Why not a single point of view? The two will cross paths, but without ever confirming each other, without the least bit of certainty, in a conjecture that is at once singular and general, the hypothesis of sight, and nothing less. A purely academic hypothesis?

Both, no doubt, but no longer as suppositions a hypothesis, as its name indicates, is supposed, presupposed. No longer beneath each step, therefore, as I set out, but always out ahead of me, as if sent out on reconnaissance: I am not sure that I want to demonstrate this.

Without trying too much to verify, my sights always set on convincing you, I will tell you a story and describe for you a point of view. Indeed the point of view will be my theme. Shall I just listen? Silently watch you show me some drawings? Both, once again, or rather between the two.

I’ll have you observe that reading proceeds in no other way. It listens in watching. Here is a first hypothesis: As such, and in the moment proper to it, the operation of drawing would have something to do with blindness, would in some way regard blindness [aveuglement]. In this abocular hypothesis the word aveugle comes from ab oculis not from or by but without the eyesthe following remains to be heard and understood: Here is the second hypothesis then an eye graft, the grafting of one point of view onto the other: There is no tautology ‘here, only a destiny of the self-portrait.

Every time a draftsman lets himself be fascinated by the blind, every time he makes the blind a theme of his drawing, he projects, dreams, or hallucinates a figure of a draftsman, or sometimes, more precisely, some draftswoman.

Or more precisely still, he begins to represent a drawing potency [puissance] at work, the very act of drawing. The trait is not then paralyzed in a tautology that folds the same onto the same. The subtitle of all these scenes of the blind is thus: Or, if you prefer, the thought of drawing, a certain pensive pose, a memory of the trait that speculates, as in a dream, about its own possibility.

Its potency always develops on the brink of blindness. Blindness pierces through right at that point and thereby gains in potential, in potency: For this very reason, you will excuse me for beginning so very close to myself.

By accident, and sometimes on the brink of an accident, I find myself writing without seeing.

Not with my eyes closed, to be sure, but open and disoriented in the night; or else during the day, my eyes fixed on something else, while looking elsewhere, in front of me, for example, when at the wheel: I then scribble with my right hand a few squiggly lines on a piece of paper attached to the dashboard or lying on the seat beside me. Sometimes, still goupeira seeing, on the steering wheel itself. These notations unreadable graffiti are for memory; one would later toupira them to be a ciphered writing.


What happens when one writes without seeing? A hand of the blind ventures forth alone or disconnected, in a poorly delimited space; it feels its way, it gropes, it caresses as much as it inscribes, trusting in the memory of signs and supplementing sight. It is as if a lidless eye had opened at the tip of the fingers, as if one eye too many had just grown right next to the nail, a single eye, the eye of a cyclops or one-eyed man. The image of the movement of these letters, of what this finger-eye inscribes, is thus sketched out within me.

From the absolute withdrawal of an invisible center or command post, a secret power ensures from a distance a kind of synergy. It coordinates the possibilities of seeing, touching, and moving. And of hearing and understanding, for these are already words of the blind that I draw in this way. One must always remember that the word, the vocable, is heard and understood, the sonorous phenomenon remaining invisible as such. Taking up time rather than space in us, it is addressed not only from the blind to the blind, like a code for the nonseeing, but speaks to us, in truth, all the time of the blindness that constitutes it.

But when, in addition, I write without seeing, during those exceptional experiences I just mentioned, in the night or with my eyes glued elsewhere, a schema already comes to life in my memory. At once virtual, potential, and dynamic, this graphic crosses all the borders separating the senses, its being-in-potential at once visual and auditory, motile and tactile.

Later, its form will come to light like a developed photograph. But for now, at this very moment when I write, I see literally nothing of these letters. The extraordinary brings us back to the ordinary and the everyday, back to the experience of the day itself, to what always guides writing through the night, farther or no farther [plus loin] than the seeable or the foreseeable. To anticipate is to take the initiative, to be out in front, to take capere in advance ante.

Different than precipitation, which exposes the head prae-caputthe head first and ahead of the rest, anticipation would have to do with the hand. The theme of the drawings of the blind is, before all else, the hand. For the hand ventures forth, it precipitates, rushes ahead, certainly, but this time in place of the head, as if to precede, prepare, and protect it.

A safeguard, a guardrail. Anticipation guards against precipitation, it makes advances, puts the moves on space in order to be the first to take, in order to be forward in the movement of taking hold, making contact, or apprehending. Standing on his own two feet, a blind man explores by feeling out an area that he must recognize without yet cognizing it and what he apprehends, what he has apprehensions about, in truth, is the precipice, the fall his having already overstepped some fatal line, his hand either bare or armed with a fingernail, a cane, or a pencil.

If to draw a blind man is first of all to show hands, it is in order to draw attention to what one draws with the help of that with which one draws, the body proper [corps propreJ as an instrument, the drawer of the drawing, the hand of the handiwork, of the manipulations, of the maneuvers and manners, the play or work of the hand drawing as surgery.

What does “with” mean in the expression “to draw with hands”? Look at Coypel’s blind men. They all hold their hands out in front of them, their gesture oscillating in the void between prehending, apprehending, praying, and imploring. Imploring and deploring are also experiences of the eye.

Meaning of “toupeira” in the Portuguese dictionary

Are you going to speak to me of tears? Yes, later on, because they say something about the eye that no longer concerns or regards sight, unless they still reveal it while veiling it. But look again at Coypel’s blind men. Like all blind men, they must advance, advance or commit themselves, that is, expose themselves, run through space as if running a risk. They are apprehensive about space, they apprehend it with their groping, wandering hands; they draw in this space in a way that is at once cautious and bold; they calculate, they count on the invisible.


It would seem that most of these blind men do not lose themselves in absolute wandering. These blind men, notice, since the illustrious blind of our culture are almost always men, the “great blind men,” as if women perhaps saw to it never to risk their sight. Indeed, the absence of “great blind women” will not be without consequence for our hypotheses. These blind men explore and seek to foresee there where they do not see, no longer see, or do not yet see.

The space of the blind always conjugates these three tenses and times of memory. For example, in the drawings done in preparation for Christ’s Healing of the Blind of Jericho, Coypel’s men do not seek anything in particular; they implore the other, the other hand, the helping or charitable hand, the hand of the other who promises them sight.

As with touching, the laying on of hands orients the drawing. One must always recall the other hand or the hand of the other. La Fage arranges the hands in such a way that at the moment when Christ’s right index finger shows, by touching it, the blind man’s left eye, the blind man touches Christ’s arm with his right hand, as if to accompany its movement, and, first of all, to reassure himself of it in a gesture of prayer, imploration, or gratitude.

Both of the left hands remain drawn back [en retrait].

Compare them to the left hands in Ribot’s drawing: Christ’s is open and turned back towards him, while the blind man’s is opened upwards begging, praying, supplicating, imploring, praising. In his right hand, between his legs, he still holds firmly onto his cane, the cane that and he is not yet ready to forget it was his saving eye, his emergency eye, one might even say his optical prosthesis, more precious than his own pupils, than the apples of his eyes [la prunelle de ses yeux].

As for Federico Zuccaro, he peoples the space of healing with a whole crowd, between an enormous column around which a man with fleshy buttocks wraps himself and the long staff of the kneeling blind man.

The Blind Lark – Louisa May Alcott ()

The man’s hands are joined this time, his instrument extending far above his head. Lucas Van Leyde’s blind man is less passive. He himself, with his own hand, will have pointed out his eyes; he will have shown his own blindness to Christ. Doing the presenting himself, as if a blind qie were doing his own k the self-portrait of a blind man telling his own story in the first person he will have touepira, localized, and circumscribed his blindness with his right hand turned back towards his face, his index finger pointing towards his right eye.

Turned towards the eye, the finger’s gesture shows but does not touch the body proper. It draws or forms, at a suitable or respectful distance, a sort of quria self-showing, nocturnal yet assured. A strange flexion of the arm or reflection of the fold. A silent auto-affection, a return to oneself, a sort of soul-searching or self-relation without sight or contact.

It is as if the blind man were referring to himself with his arm folded back, there where a blind Narcissus, inventing a mirror without image, lets it be seen that he does not see.