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    <title>EN on A pé ou de carro</title>
    <link>https://apeoudecarro.org/blog/en/</link>
    <description>Recent content in EN on A pé ou de carro</description>
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    <language>pt-pt</language>
    <copyright>Copyright © 2026, Cláudia Ramos Monteiro.</copyright>
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      <title>Churches in storefronts</title>
      <link>https://apeoudecarro.org/churches-in-storefronts/</link>
      <pubDate>Fri, 29 Nov 2024 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      
      <guid>https://apeoudecarro.org/churches-in-storefronts/</guid>
      <description>I currently live across the street from an Evangelical church, whose relationship to architecture could not be more different—oppositional—from a Catholic one. Evangelicals are proud of housing churches in garages and repurposed store fronts, places without a single invitation to contemplation, a defiant &amp;ldquo;God can be met everywhere&amp;rdquo;, neglecting the fact, of course, that God can also be met in architecture.</description>
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    <item>
      <title>The harmony of the crowd</title>
      <link>https://apeoudecarro.org/the-harmony-of-the-crowd/</link>
      <pubDate>Sun, 28 Jul 2024 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      
      <guid>https://apeoudecarro.org/the-harmony-of-the-crowd/</guid>
      <description>I have been thinking about this episode from the Reformation in Neuchâtel, Switzerland, when the Collégialle, a tall, beautiful church with golden hinges on wooden doors and a painted starry blue ceiling, was eviscerated on a Thursday in 1530 by the town&amp;rsquo;s inhabitants, who stormed the church and tore down its statues.1 Only a few days later, a town vote would convert Neuchâtel to protestantism, and over time, into a haven for those fleeing from persecution.</description>
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    <item>
      <title>Ice in the desert</title>
      <link>https://apeoudecarro.org/ice-in-the-desert/</link>
      <pubDate>Sat, 15 Jun 2024 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      
      <guid>https://apeoudecarro.org/ice-in-the-desert/</guid>
      <description>I just learned about ice-making in ancient Persia.1 In insulated ice-houses called yakhchāl, ice would form overnight in the winter along a shallow tunnel, then be harvested and placed at the bottom of a pit. The design of the building allowed it to keep through summer.
That ice could be made in the desert, with no electricity, made me think of the role of architects and engineers today pouring over the future with a long view of the past, merging ancient wisdom with modern technology to pull us from the greenhouse gas-emitting comforts of the 20th century to sustainable living in the 21st.</description>
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    <item>
      <title>Grândola, Vila Morena</title>
      <link>https://apeoudecarro.org/gr%C3%A2ndola-vila-morena/</link>
      <pubDate>Thu, 25 Apr 2024 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      
      <guid>https://apeoudecarro.org/gr%C3%A2ndola-vila-morena/</guid>
      <description>50 years ago today, the Estado Novo dictatorship in Portugal came to an end through a military coup. To signal that the coup was underway, the song &amp;ldquo;Grândola, Vila Morena&amp;rdquo; by José Afonso was played on the radio in the early hours of April 25.1 It instantly became a symbol of freedom (&amp;ldquo;We’re doing this so that people don’t have to leave the country for what they write, say or think,&amp;rdquo;2) and to this day, it defies polarization among Portuguese: last night, after we had dinner near Terreiro do Paço, a friend of mine from across the pond witnessed an impromptu and electrifying performance of it on a metro train carriage as one passenger started singing and everybody joined her.</description>
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    <item>
      <title>Memorials to love and loss through millenia</title>
      <link>https://apeoudecarro.org/memorials-to-love-and-loss-through-millenia/</link>
      <pubDate>Sun, 21 Apr 2024 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      
      <guid>https://apeoudecarro.org/memorials-to-love-and-loss-through-millenia/</guid>
      <description>In Glasgow I learned about mortuary sculptures in shared tombs. One really old example is an Etruscan sarcophagus lid from about 300 BC depicting a husband and wife &amp;ldquo;on a bed with pillows, beneath crinkled sheets, in a loving embrace,&amp;rdquo;12 — the memory of a happy marriage immortalized in volcanic tuff.3
A few days later, I visited the Kelvingrove Art Gallery and Museum, where I saw Patricia Cronin’s Memorial to a Marriage.</description>
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      <title>Love is patient</title>
      <link>https://apeoudecarro.org/love-is-patient/</link>
      <pubDate>Sat, 08 Apr 2023 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      
      <guid>https://apeoudecarro.org/love-is-patient/</guid>
      <description>What if the dust
that formed Adam and Eve
Was ground from bone</description>
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    <item>
      <title>In season</title>
      <link>https://apeoudecarro.org/in-season/</link>
      <pubDate>Tue, 21 Mar 2023 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      
      <guid>https://apeoudecarro.org/in-season/</guid>
      <description>We went into it probably thinking too much about what we were not going to be able to have, you know? ‘Oh, my goodness. No strawberries in January.’ But when we changed our thinking and started every meal with the question, ‘What do we have? What’s in season? What do we have plenty of?’ — it became really a long exercise in gratitude.1
 Barbara Kingsolver and her family ate only locally-sourced food for a year, which meant following the seasons and slowing down to a time when lettuce or an orange would have been something you waited for, or a luxury.</description>
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      <title>Ask a fragment</title>
      <link>https://apeoudecarro.org/ask-a-fragment/</link>
      <pubDate>Mon, 09 Nov 2020 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      
      <guid>https://apeoudecarro.org/ask-a-fragment/</guid>
      <description>All of my Bible readings today turned to the idea of God both entering and transcending cultures.1 Every culture is a shard of a broken mirror; not a complete picture of humans, and therefore, not a complete picture of God either.
Take the way we deal with death. In Portugal, we bury our dead within a couple of days and are left with the paraphernalia of their existence: the glasses by the dresser, the notebooks on the table, shopping lists in magnets on the fridge; their gaze and gait frozen in photos.</description>
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    <item>
      <title>The discreet credit of wanting</title>
      <link>https://apeoudecarro.org/the-discreet-credit-of-wanting/</link>
      <pubDate>Thu, 23 Jul 2020 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      
      <guid>https://apeoudecarro.org/the-discreet-credit-of-wanting/</guid>
      <description>I read an article about art traveling the world that read: “What happens behind the signs reading &amp;lsquo;No Entry: Installation in progress&amp;rsquo; remains a ferociously guarded secret. The only hint (&amp;hellip;) is a discreet credit on the wall.”
The discreet credit holds back the floodwaters of what it takes to put together an exhibit—the shipping and handling, the logistics, agreements and favors, plane tickets for an oil canvas. It has to seem effortless so that you focus on the artwork and not on the stamps on its passport.</description>
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      <title>The book of common imagination</title>
      <link>https://apeoudecarro.org/the-book-of-common-imagination/</link>
      <pubDate>Sun, 03 Nov 2019 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      
      <guid>https://apeoudecarro.org/the-book-of-common-imagination/</guid>
      <description>There is a very old line in the Book of Common Prayer that I find striking. The line reads “Almighty and eternal God, draw our hearts to you, guide our minds, fill our imaginations.” In our public conversation, we may feel we need to grapple with the existence of God before moving on to any discussion about his character. But what God do we mean? It makes sense to ponder this assumption: That God is able to fill imaginations.</description>
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      <title>Line from a Mary McCarthy interview</title>
      <link>https://apeoudecarro.org/line-from-a-mary-mccarthy-interview/</link>
      <pubDate>Fri, 19 Nov 2010 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
      
      <guid>https://apeoudecarro.org/line-from-a-mary-mccarthy-interview/</guid>
      <description>I believe there is a truth, and that it’s knowable.
 — Mary McCarthy, The Art of Fiction No. 27, The Paris Review</description>
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