Is anybody out there???

I am the princess that lives in this little world which is my hidden place, taking care of my caterpillar. She is my companion and shares her thoughts to me.

Is anybody out there listening to me? Or is it just me and my caterpillar?

Should I draw a snake that swallowed the elephant? Would you tell me it is a hat?

Knock, knock. Is anybody there?

About the Art in the Middle Ages

Still talking about Art, have you noticed how, as years went by, the colors in the paitings started to get more luminous, brighter?
If you look at the paintings from the 15th, 16th and 17 th centuries, they are so much darker... the Dark Eras. The Middle Ages... They lived in castles - probably the light wasn't that good inside a castle, in many times of the day. The days probably were longer, since there was not as much to do as there is today. The fast lives we live wouldn't allow low light for us. We need the light, we are always in a hurry, we are always doing something, inside or out. But they didn't need so much light. Time had another meaning. Time passed differently.
You can feel it in the paintings. When you look at those paintings, so dark, the people so closed (their eyes show this closeness, this dark, this.... something that I can't describe!)... the work with the light/shadow is so much more contrasting! Like the good and the evil. God and Devil. The world was divided that way at that time. Bipolar. Either heaven or hell. Either servant or master. Night was night - no light, just a little bit, from the candles (if you think that, night for us is not something that would prevent us from anything - you can do practically everything that you do during the day at night) - and Day was day. They couldn't mix the activities of the day at night. I think that, in a subconscious way, this is reflected in the paintings of the time. This duality. There were no "middle", no "in between". Either one or another. The end. Also, the shadows and the low light could be because many were done inside a castle and I don't see how a lot of light could get in there.
That also changes a person mood. The lack of light, living in the shadows, make one's feelings sadder , I guess. Everybody feels happier in a light place. I think it is also reflected in the use of light and shadow in the painting.

I need to read about the subject, because I don't know if I'm saying a lot of bullshit. Hopefully not. These are my impressions, only. If someone has another point of view, I would love to hear it and join this person's argument to the construction of my thinking. If it makes sense to me, of course! :-)))

Van Gogh and the Sunflowers

Yesterday I was looking at the pictures in an Art book. I can't tell it for sure, but I think my dearest one is Van Gogh. There are two of his paintings there, "Self portrait with bandaged ears" (something like this) and " Sunflowers". I love " Sunflowers ". Can you feel the irony in Sunflowers?
It's as if he could talk to you, even being more than one hundred years after his death. You can feel him saying: " Life is so ironic. Everything dies. Even the most beautiful and bright sunflower, the symbol of the sun and the happiness. Everything perishes. Refined irony." That painting is so... ironic. It's so much like the circle of Life, the return and the re-start, all over again... the madness we live and don't know... the beauty and the death, living side by side... and we walking through it, like sunflowers... and we getting old and fading, like the sunflowers... you can see that the light is dimming in the painting... for me, it gives me the feeling that the day is in the end, as a metaphore for the end of life. The end of the sunflowers' lives like the end of a man's life. The afternoon. Maybe that is why it is so sad. You know that will never come back again.

And, in "self portrait with bandaged ears", he looks at you as if he was laughing at your shock, at your surprise to see his bandage covering the ear he ripped off. Why did he do it? An access of madness? Or did he want to show something that our eyes couldn't see? Maybe both. And he was there, laughing at us, at our non-understanding of what he did. He was looking through you. I feel as if he had a sarcastic smile hidden in his lips, something about to explode but that wouldn't do it.... as if he was looking at you and saying: " you will never know... you will never understand... you will never see it..." . He has madness in his eyes, but at the same time, it feels like he had also a deep understanding of human souls... maybe i'm the crazy one.
But when I look into his eyes, in the self portrait, I can feel it. I can feel how sarcastically he saw humanity, and how lonely it would be for him. Did he love? I don't know. Did he feel things he shouldn't feel in the society of his time? I don't know. Was he lonely? I guess so.
I wonder how we can describe madness. I think there is somehow a certain kind of strange and sad beauty in the ways a mad mind works.

I don't know, man... I just can't look at a Van Gogh's and not to feel anything. It is as if he talked to me, straight to my heart, and revelead he understood the pain and the darkness that the human soul can carry, under the bright cover of the good manners and the beauty of the youth and all the things that are in the surface. And that we don't want to see what is inside - the dead sunflowers. Maybe that is what drove him into madness.

But still, it is deep, sensitive, beautiful.
Yeah, I think he is my dearest one.

Garden State - in the search for the infinite abyss

Funny the impact of that movie on me... I don't have much time now. Need to go pretty soon, but wanted to leave some more thoughts here, and then I get back on them when I get the chance.
Still exploring the infinite abyss...

This is one of the most wonderful experiences someone can have, can do by themselves. Not very easy, though. But always rewarding. I don't regret any single thing I have done in my life, because all I have done, I've done with passion. So, all my mistakes are lessons. All, pain and happiness, everything - with intensity.

The infinite abyss is showing me that it is not dark, or lonely or sad. By the contrary, it is colorful, silent with its own melody, with little butterflies and flowers. Of course there must be shadows, but so far I have discovered lots of light instead.

Have you explored the infinite abyss inside of you??

The Redemption

I've had a great day so far...
Exercised a lot and renewed my mind...
Reborn again for the day!

Seize the day!

Seize this right moment, glorious, wonderful! Just because... it's it and that is all and too much already.

I can feel it into my veins, running fast, accelerated ... that is my blood, so full of life and desire and happiness and relief and pain and love and passion and .... wow! Take it all and enjoy it all because life is so short! It's worth living deeply every happiness, every sorrow, every single feeling. I've been doing this. I did it today. I'm doing it now.

Can you feel it now? You're alive. That is so wonderful that is already a reason to celebrate! Oh, are you sad? Live it. It means your heart is alive. Go deep into that pain, that sorrow and come back renewed, more alive than before, like the phoenix. The after is glorious, wonderful.

I want it all, all the feelings, the sensations, all! Because when I'm gone, I want to have tasted it all that Life has to show, to offer! For me, that is what means to be ALIVE!

" ... I went to the woods
Because I wanted to live deeply,
Intensively,
For when my death arrived,
I didn't discover I hadn't lived."

- extract from the movie "Dead Poets Society"

The healing power of music - Yo Yo Ma and the instrument of God

Why listen to the classics? Because sometimes, when you're immerse in a cloud of darkness, the music comes to you as a single ray of light, brightening, shining and showing a way out of the dark, a path full of peace.
It's narrow, thin... but it's the way out of hell into heaven.

When my heart is dark and quiet, and the only sound is of the tears dropping, I hear this melody that seems sent by the heavens. I hear his cello, so strong and consistent and thick... it makes me feel safe. It starts and widens and expands and the music takes all my heart and I'm lifted from the mud and there is no sorrow, no darkness, no pain. Only light and that cello carrying me all over the Earth, as if my body didn't exist anymore and my heart was melted in the chords of the music.

When he plays, everything is right. All is fine. His cello says to me: " Don't you worry anymore; I am here. I came here to set you free and take you to heaven. Don't you cry anymore". And I become Music.

Oh, thank you mr. Yo Yo Ma, for being a ray of light in the middle of the darkness. You're the angel that plays God's instrument of healing the souls from all sorrow.

This post was created over coffee, listening to "Prelude from Suite no. 1 in G major for Cello", by Johann Sebastian Bach, performed by Yo Yo Ma.

The Case of the Dress - wonderful

This is a poem I was reading right now, from one of the most important names in Brazilian Literature, Carlos Drummond de Andrade.
The poem is so strong that made me feel skinbumps, made me shiver...

It talks about a dress, hung on a nail, on the wall. And old dress, made of lace. Beautiful. One day, the mother and the daughters were in the room and the daughters asked about the dress. And the mother started telling the terrible past of the dress. The owner, she said, is gone already. She is dead. But the father came back. She tells the story in a low voice, before the father comes into the house.

This young lady, who owned the dress, came from far away. Their dad fell totally in love with her and got head over heels. He got so upset, so crazy about her, that gave up on his family and was consuming himself in desperation. All because of her. He cried, got sick, got crazy, beat his wife... turned into another man. Just because of this crazy passion for this lady. But she didn't care. Then he started begging her. And she didn't care. And he begged his wife to ask the evil lady to accept him and to sleep with him.

And the wife, with her heart full of love and pain, went to the lady's house. The lady said she didn't want the man, she didn't love him, but if it was the wife's wish, she could keep him. For her, for the wife. Just because she was begging it. And the wife looked at her husband's eyes, full of craziness and pain and passion, begging her to do it. And she looked at the lady's eyes, full of pleasure and proud. And she did.

Her husband went away with the evil lady. The wife craved for the death. But the death didn't come. She worked hard, got older with the suffering, got sick... but didn't die.

One day, she sees the lady coming back. Old, sad, worn out, poor. She said that, in the beggining she didn't love him, but as time went by, love started to appear. But he didn't love her anymore, because he loved the "old" her. And he left her, disappearing in the world. The lady said she couldn't give him back to the wife, but she could give her the dress that started everything (which she used to have him fall in love with her and which she used in the moment the wife was beggining her to keep her husband). Because that was her punishment for the evil she did. She said she suffered as hell. And she was there, to beg the wife to accept the dress and to give her her forgiveness.

The wife didn't say anything. She just took the dress and hung it on the wall. The lady started to go away, slowly, not a quarter of what she was before. And, on the same day, the husband came back. He arrived at the house, as if nothing had ever happened, sat at the table and asked the wife to put one more dish on the table. He ate quietly and the wife had a comforting feeling. She felt a strange feeling, as if it had been all a dream and that there was no dress, anything. Just a feeling.

A movie was made in Brazil, called "The Dress", based on this poem.

Caso do Vestido

Carlos Drummond de Andrade

Nossa mãe, o que é aquelevestido, naquele prego?
Minhas filhas, é o vestidode uma dona que passou.

Passou quando, nossa mãe?Era nossa conhecida?
Minhas filhas, boca presa.Vosso pai evém chegando.

Nossa mãe, dizei depressaque vestido é esse vestido.
Minhas filhas, mas o corpoficou frio e não o veste.

O vestido, nesse prego,está morto, sossegado.
Nossa mãe, esse vestidotanta renda, esse segredo!

Minhas filhas, escutaipalavras de minha boca.
Era uma dona de longe, vosso pai enamorou-se.

E ficou tão transtornado,se perdeu tanto de nós,
se afastou de toda vida,se fechou, se devorou,

chorou no prato de carne,bebeu, brigou, me bateu,
me deixou com vosso berço,foi para a dona de longe,

mas a dona não ligou.Em vão o pai implorou.
Dava apólice, fazenda, dava carro, dava ouro,

beberia seu sobejo,lamberia seu sapato.
Mas a dona nem ligou.Então vosso pai, irado,

me pediu que lhe pedisse,a essa dona tão perversa,
que tivesse paciência e fosse dormir com ele...

Nossa mãe, por que chorais?Nosso lenço vos cedemos.
Minhas filhas, vosso paichega ao pátio. Disfarcemos.

Nossa mãe, não escutamospisar de pé no degrau.
Minhas filhas, procureiaquela mulher do demo.

E lhe roguei que aplacassede meu marido a vontade.
Eu não amo teu marido,me falou ela se rindo.

Mas posso ficar com elese a senhora fizer gosto,
só pra lhe satisfazer,não por mim, não quero homem.

Olhei para vosso pai, os olhos dele pediam.
Olhei para a dona ruim, os olhos dela gozavam.

O seu vestido de renda, de colo mui devassado,
mais mostrava que escondiaas partes da pecadora.

Eu fiz meu pelo-sinal,me curvei... disse que sim.
Sai pensando na morte,mas a morte não chegava.

Andei pelas cinco ruas, passei ponte, passei rio,
visitei vossos parentes, não comia, não falava,

tive uma febre terçã,mas a morte não chegava.
Fiquei fora de perigo,fiquei de cabeça branca,

perdi meus dentes, meus olhos, costurei, lavei, fiz doce,
minhas mãos se escalavraram,meus anéis se dispersaram,

minha corrente de ouropagou conta de farmácia.
Vosso pais sumiu no mundo.O mundo é grande e pequeno.

Um dia a dona soberbame aparece já sem nada,
pobre, desfeita, mofina,com sua trouxa na mão.

Dona, me disse baixinho,não te dou vosso marido,
que não sei onde ele anda.Mas te dou este vestido,

última peça de luxoque guardei como lembrança
daquele dia de cobra,da maior humilhação.

Eu não tinha amor por ele,ao depois amor pegou.
Mas então ele enjoado confessou que só gostava

de mim como eu era dantes.Me joguei a suas plantas,
fiz toda sorte de dengo,no chão rocei minha cara,

me puxei pelos cabelos,me lancei na correnteza,
me cortei de canivete,me atirei no sumidouro,

bebi fel e gasolina,rezei duzentas novenas,
dona, de nada valeu:vosso marido sumiu.

Aqui trago minha roupaque recorda meu malfeito
de ofender dona casada pisando no seu orgulho.

Recebei esse vestidoe me dai vosso perdão.
Olhei para a cara dela,quede os olhos cintilantes?

quede graça de sorriso,quede colo de camélia?
quede aquela cinturinhadelgada como jeitosa?

quede pezinhos calçadoscom sandálias de cetim?
Olhei muito para ela, boca não disse palavra.

Peguei o vestido, pusnesse prego da parede.
Ela se foi de mansinho e já na ponta da estrada

vosso pai aparecia.Olhou pra mim em silêncio,
mal reparou no vestido e disse apenas: — Mulher,

põe mais um prato na mesa.Eu fiz, ele se assentou,
comeu, limpou o suor,era sempre o mesmo homem,

comia meio de lado e nem estava mais velho.
O barulho da comida na boca, me acalentava,

me dava uma grande paz,um sentimento esquisito
de que tudo foi um sonho, vestido não há... nem nada.

Minhas filhas, eis que ouço vosso pai subindo a escada.

The shell

Once I was walking on the beach, just wandering around, enjoying the sun and the warmnes... then I found something that seemed like a shell or a piece of rock. At first, I just had stepped on it and that is why it caught my attention. When I crouched to take a better look at it, I saw a small shell. It was full of sand, covering all over it. It seemed normal.
I just put it apart and went on. But something about that shell stayed in my mind. I thought I had seen some color, some shine on the shell, but all the sand was blocking me from seeing it.
Then I came back again and looked for the shell. I was so happy to find it again! The sea hadn't taken it. Then I dusted the shell a little bit and saw how beautiful it was. It had a beautiful mixture of colors and shined on the sun.
I decided to wash it in the sea to better see its shine and colors. I totally fell in love with that beautiful colorful shell, so shyly hidden in the middle of the sand!
But then, when I was washing it in the sea, I was careless and, before I realize it, the wave took it away from me! It was such a stupid wave and I don't know how it happened! The shell was with me and, all of a sudden, it was gone! I couldn't take good care of that beautiful shell in the few minutes I was with it... and it just slipped through my fingers into the sea.

I entered the cold sea to look for it, in the hope to see it and get it again. But it just vanished in the middle of that cold water. And I still don't know what exactly I did wrong that made me lose my little beautiful shell.

Buddhist Wisdom

In my own experience, the period of greatest gain in knowledge and experience is the most difficult period in one's life. ...Through a difficult period, you can learn, you can develop inner strength, determination, and courage to face the problem. Who gives you this chance? Your enemy.

- Your Holiness the Dalai Lama

Sweet Jane

Sweet Jane worked hard in the woods. She faced the cold, the wind, the bears, the loneliness. She arrived in the woods like a little tree, full of young leaves. The coldness of the mountain killed some of her leaves, but it gave her the strenght to face the cold winds.
Jane walked around the flowers and the trees. She started to learn not to be afraid.
Each time a branch would fall on her head, or when she had to carry rocks on her back... each of these transformed her into an oak. But she was still Sweet. Sweet Jane.

Long and lonely nights she wandered around, just with the company of the moon and the stars.

She cried and the warrior heard her tears dropping in the silence of her heart.

Among the tears, suffering, silence and faith, she found the strenght and resistance of the oak and the courage of the warrior. A warrior that lived in the heart made of the most pure unbreakable crystal.

Sweet Jane always plays straight.
Sweet Jane cries like a warrior, is born again like a phenix and can resist to everything like an oak.
Sweet Jane learned everything from the mountains and the woods.

Sweet Jane left the woods and the mountains.
The warrior fights and bleeds.
But she is still sweet.

Exploring the infinite abyss

I started my journey to the infinite abyss. Exploring it is not an easy task. But as all the other difficult things sometimes you have to do, I also was forced to go into the infinite abyss. It's scary. It's dark. You don't see the end. There is no end.

The infinite abyss... trying to explore the shadows and the unknown. In fact, you always think you know what you will find, but... what if it's so dark you can't see anything? But it hurts and you're forced to go. The only way to make the pain go away is by looking inside the abyss. The infinite abyss, that swallows everything. Maybe there is an end in this abyss. But I'm far from discovering it. At least, not now. But I will still keep exploring.

By the way, thanks to Zach Braff, who wrote the idea of exploring the infinite abyss in the movie "Garden State".

Riding under the sun

Yesterday I ran about 5.5 miles... my body is all sore. But it's good to feel this kind of pain. Gives me the sesnsation of " being alive". Good feeling.

Today is a gorgeous morning and since before I got up the sun was knocking on my windows begging me to go out there and enjoy life now with him. There I go. I will ride my bike and see the beauty that this day brought for me.

The colorful flowers are just waiting for the visit of my dreaming eyes.

And my heart is craving to enjoy each moment of this gorgeous morning. Hummm! It's delicious to sorve Life, as if each moment was like ice cream melting in your mouth! :-)

Life is good. It's good to be alive.

Buddhist Wisdom

If you want to know the past, to know what has caused you, look at yourself in the present, for that is the past’s effect. If you want to know your future, then look at yourself in the present, for that is the cause of the future.

Majjhima Nikaya

The first series of "The Way I see it" - Starbucks

The way I see it #?

My first day off - in a Starbucks in Vail, Colorado)

" Embrace this right now life while it's dripping, while the flavors are excellently woesome. Take your bites with bravery and boldness since the learning and the growing are here in these times, these exact right nows. Capture these times. Hold and kiss them because it will soon be very different." - Jill Scott.

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The way I see it - August 17th, 2005

"Risk-taking, trust, and serendipity are key ingredients of joy. Without risk, nothing new ever happens. Without trust, fear creeps in. Without serendipity, there are no surprises." - Rita Golden Gelman

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The way I see it - # 77

" The human catalysts for "dreamers" are the teachers and encouragers that "dreamers" encounter throughout their lives. They are invaluable in the quest to turn ideas into reality. So here's a special thanks to all of the teachers - especially my teacher, Miz Lane!" - Kevin Carroll

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The way I see it - # 70

"It's difficult for people to get rid of junk. They get attached to things and let them define who they are. If there's one thing I've learned in this business, it's that you are what you can't let go of." - Brian Scudamore

The only man in the island

And there goes the only man. Living in his little island, he explores himself. He tries hard not to be the same everyday, but everyday is just one more day at a time and it's hard not to be repetitive.
The only man in the island always tries to re-invent himself.
The only man in the island laughs of his own jokes. But he doesn't like crying alone.
The only man in the island tries to run away. But then he remembers he lives alone and there is nobody else in the island, for him to run away from. It's sad not to be able to leave. But that is the way the only man in the island lives.

The only man in the island counts the stars. And he can talk to the moon. His heart is big but his mind is small. But it doesn't matter. He is growing a new flower now. That is what matters every morning. To take care of her. But even that doesn't matter much. Nothing really matters much, he thinks. What really matters is how much love can his heart give. In that very moment and that is all.

The only man sometimes is the happiest man on the island. It is when the breeze of the night blows his hair. And the moon tells him the day was good. That everything is good. Then the only man in the island smiles and his heart sleeps.

Sometimes the only man smells coffee that the wind brings. And he cries. Sometimes he just cries. Sometimes it is just nothing, just because of the beauty that only he can see and he wished he could share it. Sometimes the only man in the island sees what no one else can. And he cries because it's beautiful.

The only man in the island prays to God every night to thank for the sea, right in front of him, and he prays for the sun to come out the next day. But rain is also good, because then he can take a shower using God's shower. And then he will be more than clean.

The only man in the island jumps and sings while walks on the beach talking to his friends. Nobody else can see them, only the man. He dances a waltz with the wind and the leaves the wind sometimes carries.
The stars tell him stories from far away.
The fishes he eats tell him about death and life.
His dead flower tells him about losses and love.
And he feels his whole body is just his heart.
Then he wants to melt and mix with the waves.
But the waves always bring him back.
Always.

To the same street. To the same neighbors. To the same.

A love like this - Such Great Heights

Yep. I love my new CD, as everybody can see...

You've gotta listen to this song..."Such Great Heights"... read the lyric! Frankly - everybody wants to love like this.Everybody wants to be loved like this.

Just as simple as this.
Just as smooth, as natural as this.

Calm and beautiful as the chords of this song.
Like walking on the beach, kicking the sand and holding hands.
Like sharing the ice cream.
Like a pair of colored flip-flops lying in the sun.

Thoughts like this
Loves like this
Like a red baloon flying high in the sky

Owwwww......
I love this song.


The Postal Service

Such Great Heights

I was thinking it's a sign that the freckles
in our eyes are mirror images and when
we kiss they're perfectly aligned
and I have to speculate that god himself
did make us into corresponding shapes like
puzzle pieces from the clay
and true, it may seem like a stretch, but
its thoughts like this that catch my troubled
head when you're away when I am missing
you to death
when you are out there on the road for
several weeks of shows and when you scan
the radio, I hope this song will guide you
home
they will see us waving from such great
heights, "come down now," they'll say
but everything looks perfect from far away,
"come down now," but we'll stay...
I tried my best to leave this all on your
machine but the persistant beat it sounded
thin upon listening
and that frankly will not fly. you will hear
the shrillest highs and lowest lows with
the windows down when this is guiding
you home

I just don't think I will ever get over you

This is such a beautiful, sweet and warm song also from "Garden State" ...
It touches my heart and makes me feel being taken...
And the sweet breeze in my ears whispers as a lover's passionate words...
And the blue sky plays joyfully with its cotton-candy clouds
And my heart sings
Getting in the mood of this beautiful, real-sounding song
My soul travels in the chords of the guitar
Coffee smell warms me up
No need for talking...
And there is nothing else to say.

Colin Hay

I Just Don't Think I'll Ever Get Over You

I drink good coffee every morning
Comes from a place that's far away
And when I'm done I feel like talking
Without you here there is less to say
I don't want you thinking I'm unhappy
What is closer to the truth
That if I lived till I was 102
I just don't think I'll ever get over you

I'm no longer moved to drink strong whisky
'Cause I shook the hand of time and I knew
That if I lived till I could no longer climb my stairs
I just don't think I'll ever get over you

Your face it dances and it haunts me
Your laughter's still ringing in my ears
I still find pieces of your presence here
Even after all these years
But I don't want you thinking I don't get asked to dinner
'Cause I'm here to say that I sometimes do
Even though I may soon feel the touch of love
I just don't think I'll ever get over you

If I lived till I was 102
I just don't think I'll ever get over you

Tripping... - this post has more effect if read listening to " In the waiting line"

This song, "In the waiting line", also from the cd "Garden State", wow.... it's like my trips... I listen to this song and I start having that same feeling, like a colored photocopy of that sensation... the beginning of the song, the rhythm... wow... it's like having all those colors popping in an timeless moment.... it's so crazy, man.... like when you're high on weed and time just doesn't go.... and you don't know if now is really now or if now was a little time ago or if it was a long time ago.... that is how I trip.... I totally lose the sense of time... I get lost on this waves... this sequence of soft feelings, colorful.... all those colors popping up all over.... this song gives me this sensation of loseness, of lost in time, of relaxing.... Zach Braff did an excellent job on choosing this song for that scene in which Andrew gets high with his friends.

By the way, I am not writing this stoned.

Zero 7

In The Waiting Line

Wait in line
‘Till your time
Ticking clock
Everyone stop
Everyone's saying different things to me
Different things to me
Everyone's saying different things to me
Different things to me

Woooohh
Do you believe
In what you see
There doesn't seem to be anybody else who agrees with me
Do you believe
In what you see
Motionless wheel
Nothing is real
Wasting my time
In the waiting line

Do you believe in
What you see
Nine to five
Living lies
Everyday
Stealing time
Everyone's taking everything they can
Everything they can
Everyone's taking everything they can
Everything they can

Woooohh
Do you believe
In what you feel
It doesn't seem to be anybody else who agrees with me
Do you believe
In what you see
Motionless wheel
Nothing is real
Wasting my time
In the waiting line
Do you believe
In what you see
Ah and I’ll shout and I’ll scream
But I’d rather not have seen
And i'll hide away for another day
Do you believe
In what you see
Motionless wheel
Nothing is real
Wasting my time
In the waiting line
Do you believe
In what you see
Everyone's saying different things to me
Different things to me
Different things to me
Different things to me
Different things to me
Everyone's taking everything they can
Everything they can

New Slang

Here I am, listening to this wonderful cd I've just bought: the soundtrack of "Garden State". Wonderful.

This song, "New Slang", comes to my ears as promises that today is gray, but it's ok, because tomorrow may be yellow... it sounds like hope, like everything is ok. And I feel that everything is fine and good and calm and peaceful - just because that is the way it is and that is just it.

Each hit of the drum, the melody of the guitar.... all those notes fall in my heart like yellow bright drops.
Like pieces of sun.

The Shins - New Slang


Gold teeth and a curse for this town were all in my mouth.
Only, i don't know how they got out, dear.
Turn me back into the pet that i was when we met.
I was happier then with no mind-set.

And if you'd 'a took to me like
A gull takes to the wind.
Well, i'd 'a jumped from my tree
And i'd a danced like the king of the eyesores
And the rest of our lives would 'a fared well.

New slang when you notice the stripes, the dirt in your fries.
Hope it's right when you die, old and bony.
Dawn breaks like a bull through the hall,
Never should have called
But my head's to the wall and i'm lonely.

And if you'd 'a took to me like
A gull takes to the wind.
Well, i'd 'a jumped from my tree
And i'd a danced like the kind of the eyesores
And the rest of our lives would 'a fared well.

God speed all the bakers at dawn may they all cut their thumbs,
And bleed into their buns 'till they melt away.

I'm looking in on the good life i might be doomed never to find.
Without a trust or flaming fields am i too dumb to refine?
And if you'd 'a took to me like
Well i'd a danced like the queen of the eyesores
And the rest of our lives would 'a fared well.

Dancer in the Dark - Criticism

I have just seen "Dancer in the Dark", starring Bjork. I was told to go prepared because it would devastate me. And in the end I was crying so much, so badly! If any of you intend to watch it, go with a box full of tissues : you'll need them, trust me.

I will start by my feelings first and then I will try to develop an analysis of the movie. I beg your pardon if my analysis is deficient and the terms not very accurate, but I ask you for patience while I work on improving my skills.

But I don't want to leave the impression that I didn't like it. Much by the contrary. Ironic, in an extremely sad way. I think Lars von Trier did a beautiful work in there and I would classify it either in the Psychoanalytical Model and Ideological Model.

There is a sweet, sad, slight irony in Selma's (Bjork) passion for musicals. One can feel the sarcasm implied in that and the critic to the American musicals from the 50's (which I was a huge fan for years). Haven't you ever thought about how funny it is that nothing goes bad in the musicals? That everybody, from nothing, starts dancing and singing, while this in real life would never happen? Don't you feel sometimes "complacent" with the idea that, in musicals, nothing ever ends bad and everything is good in the end? On how everything is so fake, so superficial, so light, so slight... Beauty carries in itself the lightness and the weight of the superficiality.
Coming back to the movie - marriages in which people don't really get to know each other; cowardice; how we, the society, punish those who don't play by our selfish and cynical games. How we have no mercy for those who dreams. How beautiful the escapes the human being is able to create to run from a reality that is heavier than she/he can carry. How appearances can defeat. It's a mirror of a society - no, not only the American society - ANY society. It's a human nature behavior, not a political one. Relationships of love, lies, friendship. Deep and true love. Cynical, lame, poor love. Marriages supported by illusions. Illusions that help to carry on life. Dreams that will never come true. Abnegation.

Most of all, it works with all people's feelings of fair/unfair, despair, fear, generousity; the viewer feels angry and sad - the movie works with one of the strongest concepts of love modern society has: mother's love. Nobody doubts it. Can it be considered now a taboo? No, maybe I'm just tripping here. But certainly it has an impact on a person's feelings: every thing concerning the ideas of Family, Mother's love, love, marriage, friendship and Justice can be understood easily, no matter where.
Also, I see critics on the Judiciary system, that can be very deficient and how the Death Penalty should be revised - not applied.
That prison's wards are people with feelings and that sometimes friendship can come from there. At least, respect. And how human beings can recognize themselves in some situations, like when two mothers talk about their love for their children.
There is another irony: the neighbor (asshole!) is a cop. The corruption and dishonesty of the police. The consumption fever, the desire for stuff that make people lose their sense of values, make them cross the boundaries between good and bad.

The movie has many parts with strange musicals: instead of happy songs like in the normal musicals, they have extremely sad songs (Bjork's voice contributes a lot in this term!), which composes a kind of weird scene, weird but not less poetic. Poetic. Beautiful. Sad. Instead of making you feel good (as it seems to be the idea of the musicals), it makes you feel uncomfortable, because you know there is an element that is out, that doesn't fit. SHE doesn't fit. SHE is real. Not a movie. Not a movie she saw when she was a little girl. She carries life as in a musical. Irreal. The strange musical reaches its purpose of disturbing, bothering... because you can totally feel the FAKENESS of it, the IRREALITY of it... hard to explain.
The musicals of the movie are disturbing, and this is not a coincidence. They appear in some strange moments, just like the old musicals. They appear in the most unlikely places, just like the oldies. It's such a critic to the old musicals and their lack of deepness, their lack of reality!

How she always has something green to dress - HOPE. Yeah, she definitely lives by hope. And how the colors are more vivid in her dreams, contrasting with the reality, in which the lights are more pale, less bright, more to a gray tone. In her dreams, you can tell that the red and green tones are a little brighter than the others. But, one thing should be noticed: the neighbor's wife's colors are always bright. At least they seemed so to me. Because her world is not real, is like a dream. She is kept away from the roughness of reality, like if she lived in a dream. Maybe that 's why her colors are more vivid and she is always with a beautiful tune of blue.
And the way the camera moves - sometimes it gives you the sensation of a home made film - the angles the camera uses, the way it moves.... sometimes you can feel the tension, just by the way the camera moved and the editing was done... like in the scene in which Bill gives Selma a ride. You can feel that tiny little wire of tension, linking both characters, both in the same wire of despair.

Oh, and I can't forget how it shows the irony of the Communism and the Capitalism. For me it's very clear in the movie this dicotomy... how Selma recalls the times when she was a l ittl e girl in Czechoslovakia and how she used to think how the USA must be wonderful, because she saw in an American movie people eating candies from a can.... how the communist system can be harsh, sad. And she says that it is a good way of living, by sharing. And of course, people critize her. In my point of view, the movie has a left-wing tune.

But the most important, at last, is the endless love of a mother for her son. I wasn't able to analyse the screenplay. I was to touched, crying too much to be able to analyse that.

Dance of Loneliness- another poem of mine

The body dancing
Whirls around
Swinging
Lonely
Freely
Sadly

And there it goes
Light as the air
Heavy as the air
Lost in the midst of the music
Deep music
Shallow music

The body dances
Passionately
With all its lack of love

The body goes
And goes
and goes
goes
Endless

Crystal - another poem by myself

Drops
Dropping
Dripping
Tears
Tearing
Go
Going
Gone

The crazyness of the world inside the normality of empty days full of unmeaningful things.

I will bend my knees.
I will feel
Not think
Nothing.
Bamboo.
I
Bamboo.

Still dripping
Drops
Tears
Glass
Wind
Going
Gone.

Quintana - Vol.2

" Sentir primeiro, pensar depois
Perdoar primeiro, julgar depois

Amar primeiro, educar depois
Esquecer primeiro, aprender depois

Libertar primeiro, ensinar depois
Alimentar primeiro, cantar depois

Possuir primeiro, contemplar depois
Agir primeiro, julgar depois

Navegar primeiro, aportar depois
Viver primeiro, morrer depois."

" Feel first, think after
Forgive first, judge after

Love first, educate after
Forget first, learn after

Free first, teach after
Feed first, sing after

Have first, gaze after
Act first, judge after

Sail first, arrive after
Live first, die after."


" O tempo eh a insonia da eternidade"
" Time is the insomnia of eternity"


" O despertador eh um acidente de trafego de sono"
" The alarm clock is an accident on the sleep traffic"


" Esta vida eh uma estranha hospedaria,
De onde se parte quase sempre as tontas,
Pois nunca as nossas malas estao prontas,
E a nossa conta nunca estah em dia."

" This life is a strange guest house,
From where we always departure in a hurry,
Because our luggage is never ready,
And our bill never paid."

Quintana - Vol.1

This is a series of homages to beautiful Brazilian poets, starting with Mario Quintana. I shall say that I won't be able to pay this homage up to the level it is deserved.

" A alma eh essa coisa que nos pergunta se a alma existe."

" The soul is this thing that asks us if the soul exists."



" O segredo eh nao correr atras das borboletas... Eh cuidar do jardim para que elas venham ateh voce."

" The secret is not to run after the butterflies... It is taking care of the garden to bring them to you."


" Reflexao de Lavoisier ao descobrir que lhe haviam roubado a carteira: nada se perde, tudo muda de dono."
" Lavoisier's reflexion when he found out that someone had stole his wallet: nothing is lost, everything changes to another owner." ( It didn't work good in English.... translator's fault...sorry!)



" Sempre me senti isolado nessas reunioes sociais: o excesso de gente impede de ver as pessoas..."
" I've always felt isolated in these social meetings: the excess of people blocks to see the people..."

Book of Secrets - O livro dos segredos

I had a notebook, a cheap notebook, that I had bought for my Writing ESL class. As I dropped the class, the notebook was forgotten in the back of my drawer. But, another day, while I was cleaning up my drawers, I found it. And it had an irresistible appeal on me, to write in it. But... write what?? I had no idea.
I left the notebook there, in a visible place, for when I had any idea of what to do with it. Then, one day, I was going through my emails and I got a beautiful message. I wrote it in a piece of paper and then I thought: " Hey, why to write it in a small piece of paper that I can easily lose, if I can write it in my notebook? I don't have anything else to write in it anyways..."

Then this notebook turned out to be my friend in trips and moments at Starbucks, over coffee. Now it 's registered in him poems, thoughts, pieces of beauty that I collect along my way through life, drawings, tears, smiles, stories... that is my notebook.

"When I raise my flashing sword and my hand takes hold on judgement,
I will take vengeance upon my enemies.
And I will repay those who haze me.
O Lord, raise me to Thy right hand and count me among Thy saints."

" ... we must all fear evil men. But there is another kind of evil which we must fear most, and that is the indifference of good men!"

"Never shall innocent blood be shed.Yet, the blood of the wicked shall flow like a river: The three shall spread their blackened wings and be the vengeful, striking hammer of God."

" Now you will receive us.
We do not ask for your poor or your hungry.
We do not want your tired and sick.
It is your corrupt we claim. It is your evil that will be sought by us.
With every breath, we shall hunt them down.
Each day we will spill their blood till it rains down from the skies.

Do not kill, do not rape, do not steal.

These are principles which every man of every faith can embrace!
These are not polite suggestions.
These are cores of behavior, and those of you that ignore them will pay the dearest cost!

There are varying degrees of evil.
We urge your lesser forms of filth not to push the bounds and cross over into true corruption into our domain.
For if you do, one day you will look behind you and you will see we three."

" And shepherds we shall be for Thee, my Lord, for Thee.
Power hath descended forth from Thy hand.
Our feet may swiftly carry out Thy command.
So we shall flow a river forth unto Thee, and teeming with souls shall it ever be.

In nomine Patris et Filii et Spiritus Sancti, Amen."

Extracted from the movie "The Boondock Saints".

Sao Paulo riots - Motim em Sampa

I couldn't let it go without writing something about it. My friends in Sao Paulo wrote to me, each telling how they view the situation there. I'm so upset with that. I'm worried about my friends, cousins, the people I like that are there. Hopefully, things are getting calmer now. But this is to remind us that the govern needs to start working better in Security. We can't let ourselves be dominated by fear of PCC and we can't let them say what we can and can't do. So it means that if a gang leader is transferred to another prison, Sao Paulo (or any other city) is to become a hell, is to become a total chaos? How can it be possible? Fucking government. This is PSDB govern, my friends. This is the security in the prisons that MR.Alckimin, in his 8 years of govern of the state has done for the prison system. What did he do? It is still possible to order murders, chaos and everything from the prison!!!! Fucking hell!
This shouldn't be possible! This shouldn't be happening! I know I'm not there and I'm not very "in" in the politics scene, but ...COME ON!!!

This shows how our prison system is wanting. What a shame. What a pain. The city that I love so much.... my dear Sao Paulo, becoming this chaos... my friends all there, in the middle of that small "civil war" atmosphere.... hell.


Eu nao poderia deixar passar sem escrever algo sobre. Meus amigos em Sao Paulo me escreveram, cada um contando como viu a situacao por lah. Fiquei super chateada. Estou preocupada com meus amigos, primas, as pessoas que eu gosto que vivem por lah. Se Deus quiser, as coisas vao melhorar. Mas isso nos mostra que o governo deveria comecar a trabalhar melhor na questao da Seguranca. Nos nao podemos nos deixar ser dominados pelo medo do PCC e nos nao podemos deixa-los dizer o que podemos ou nao fazer. Entao isso quer dizer que, se um lider de gangue eh transferido de prisao, Sao Paulo (ou qq outra cidade), deve ser tornar um inferno, um caos total ? Como isso eh possivel? Maldito governo. Esse eh o governo do PSDB, meus amigos. Essa eh a seguranca nas prisoes que o Sr.Alckimin, nos seus 8 anos de governo do Estado, fez pelo sistema carcerario. O que ele fez? Ainda eh possivel ordenar assassinatos, caos, chacinas a partir das prisoes! Fucking hell!

Isso nao deveria ser possivel! Isso nao deveria estar acontecendo! Eu sei que eu nao estou aih e estou meio por fora da cena politica, mas... Convenhamos!

Isso nos mostra como o nosso sistema carcerario eh falho. Que vergonha. Que tristeza. A cidade que eu tanto amo... minha querida Sampa, transformada no caos total... e todos os meus amigos lah, no meio desse clima de "guerra civil" ... inferno.

Staying alive

After so long, I am giving signs of life.... I'm really tired now, but I just had to leave a comment here... I've just watched "Amores Perros" ( " Love's a bitch" ), by Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu. This guy is really good. I'm not very sure, but I guess he directed " Nicotina" also... another good movie. I've been seeing good stuff lately, some of them because of my Film classes. Only God knows how much I love those classes and how sad I am that they are about to end. Another good one I've seen lately is : " Garden State" and " The Boondock Saints".
Wow.... I'm still touched, impressed by Amores Perros... the Mexican cinema has presented some very good stuff lately. So did the Argentinian cinema. Amores Perros... I'll write something more consistent later - now my brain is smashed by tiredness and sleepy.... and the thousand thoughts the movie developed in my poor used brain...

Promise I will get back to you, my friends, as soon as possible, with more news from My Hidden World, where I've been hiding, getting lost, getting mad and coming back to sanity,all at once.