06h43 que oportunidade refletir e expressar: simplesmente estou vivo.
coleciono existência e experiências
07h45 the book won’t be — it isn’t — a problem. produce works: then organize them.
10h03 colored pencil
16h59 drawing outside. it gets so cold right after the sun goes behind the mountain (around 4pm). ink takes longer to dry…
about 5 minutes before the sun went down the mountain, a lot of birds started to sing. it felt like i was right in the middle of them all. mother got right at this moment, and before i tell anything, she said she was impressed with all that sound. i try to record it.
Uso a palavra para compor meus silêncios. Não gosto das palavras fatigadas de informar. Dou mais respeito às que vivem de barriga no chão tipo água pedra sapo. Entendo bem o sotaque das águas Dou respeito às coisas desimportantes e aos seres desimportantes. Prezo insetos mais que aviões. Prezo a velocidade das tartarugas mais que a dos mísseis. Tenho em mim um atraso de nascença. Eu fui aparelhado para gostar de passarinhos. Tenho abundância de ser feliz por isso. Meu quintal é maior do que o mundo. Sou um apanhador de desperdícios: Amo os restos como as boas moscas. Queria que a minha voz tivesse um formato de canto. Porque eu não sou da informática: eu sou da invencionática. Só uso a palavra para compor meus silêncios.
no livro memórias inventadas – a primeira infância
22h30 it is late and i’ve worked all day. i feel happy, which makes me wonder: is this mania? or just feeling elated for doing what i love the most? does it make a difference?
i opened google now and there is a doodle of seurat. tomorrow is his birthday, what a nice surprise. tomorrow i shall draw something that its following me for quite some time. oh seurat! i have his biography, but didn’t had the chance to read it… everyone points to his pointilism, but besides it, what really draws my attention are his drawings. such texture and smooth transtitions. i have no clue how he managed to make them.
something nice during the day: i was thinking about the little book and had only shasta on the cover. it was the initial idea. then an adition came: aurora in shasta. it will be hard to come a better name than this. i relate to it in so many ways.
i am tired. i already know which poem(s) i’ll read tomorrow.
06h12 today is monday. with effort, i have less than a month with the possibility of total commitment. what i have to say to myself and everyone i care: do not waste time. work as much as possible — enough to look back and say it was worth it.
liana fink “what we say vs what we think” (2021) – artist decoded podcast
luiz fuganti – a criação de si como obra de arte
hans hoffman – artist-teacher, teacher-artist (2002)
maggi hambling – making love with painting (2020, bbc) didn’t know her and her work, but what an incredible surprise. painting as an expression of life — and death. waves. art as a way of living.
07h50 i study the life (writings and interviews) of other artists to understand more about their work and methods. of course, life isn’t separate from the art and sometimes a bit of personal information brings more light to the work. i am not interested in their personal matters and secrets.
night: started reading maria carolina de jesus’ quarto de despejo.
22h19 today i’ve thought about books… and “by chance”, just opened one and found the text “first and last: two books by marcel broodthaers” by benjamin h. d. buchloh.
manhã: após aula de yoga, peguei uma antiga bicicleta e voltei para a casa pedalando. há anos que não me delicio numa magrela! vou aproveitar enquanto não neva e pedalar pelas manhãs!
16h23 ontem minha mãe mandou um diálogo entre sadhguru e outras pessoas. fazia tempo que não dava atenção a essas “conversas espirituais” — estou imerso nas leituras de arte e cérebro/mental e nem tava sentindo falta dessa área…
limpando meu preconceito, escutei até o fim e gostei! uma relembrança foi a fala sobre a comparação e competição — padrão que reconheço muito em mim ultimamente. na realidade, acredito que isso é um dos motivos de crise atuais. é melhor não se comparar, nem competir. na minha visão, qualquer batalha que se entra é batalha perdida. imagina com outras pessoas, principalmente algumas que nem conheço e nem quero… penso nisso em relação ao mundo das artes. os diversos mundos da arte. responsabilizo os mundos da arte, mas nunca a arte. a arte sempre foi um motivo de existência, até sagrada a considero.
09h05 i can recognize that some of the big problems i’ve been going thru started when i wanted to became “a professional artist”. what does this mean? to have works in museums — and galleries. oh, how that’s a perfect path to trouble, at least in my own experience.
07h45 sonhei com a palavra gasket. será que ela existe? também com uma noite de bebedeira. o lugar estava uma bagunça. ainda bem que acordei e percebi que foi apenas um sonho…
manhã:
AS CONSEQUENT, Etc. by Walt Whitman
Aa consequent from store of summer rains, Or wayward rivulets in autumn flowing, Or many a herb-lined brook’s reticulations, Or subterranean sea-rills making for the sea, Songs of continued years I sing.
Life’s ever-modern rapids first, (soon, soon to blend, With the old streams of death.)
Some threading Ohio’s farm-fields or the woods, Some down Colorado’s cañons from sources of perpetual snow, Some half-hid in Oregon, or away southward in Texas, Some in the north finding their way to Erie, Niagara, Ottawa, Some to Atlantica’s bays, and so to the great salt brine.
In you whoe’er you are my book perusing, In I myself, in all the world, these currents flowing, All, all toward the mystic ocean tending.
Currents for starting a continent new, Overtures sent to the solid out of the liquid, Fusion of ocean and land, tender and pensive waves, (Not safe and peaceful only, waves rous’d and ominous too, Out of the depths the storm’s abysmic waves, who knows whence? Raging over the vast, with many a broken spar and tatter’d sail.)
Or from the sea of Time, collecting vasting all, I bring, A windrow-drift of weeds and shells.
O little shells, so curious-convolute, so limpid-cold and voiceless, Will you not little shells to the tympans of temples held, Murmurs and echoes still call up, eternity’s music faint and far, Wafted inland, sent from Atlantica’s rim, strains for the soul of the prairies, Whisper’d reverberations, chords for the ear of the West joyously sounding, Your tidings old, yet ever new and untranslatable, Infinitesimals out of my life, and many a life, (For not my life and years alone I give—all, all I give,) These waifs from the deep, cast high and dry, Wash’d on America’s shores?
18h52 um dos livros que estou lendo é poesia e filosofia do antônio cicero. eu não conheço muito do universo da poesia escrita. aproveitei para escutar algumas entrevistas com o poeta agora pouco, enquanto fazia alguns rabiscos. por inspiração poética, vou assistir um filme já já: il postino…
12h13 eu não sou mão de vaca com livros. inclusive descobri que faz parte de uma condição. agora, sou mão de vaca com papéis e materiais artísticos. é algo que desejo me livrar. a auto-estima é tão baixa em alguns momentos que não me sinto digno para usar um bom papel.
04:56 woke up early. in brazilian time is almost 10am. since i’ve read that the condition makes sleep less and less, i’ve been monitoring times for a different reason.
walking through “the old town yreka streets” i feel the cold air from memories, wishes and dreams. even though this city ain’t made for walking, here i go wandering in thoughts.
also, today i’ve listened to two different conversations with people that won’t take vaccines. the first group being new age folks, saying that a health body doesn’t need this kind of treatment. another group were with the political argument… i’ve heard from a person that what really helps are alfafa baths and shots with antiparasites. i am amazed. baffled. insterested and sometimes not hopeful about our species. what can we do? how to talk? should i try to speak anything at all?
22h46 busy first day. morning: yoga and helping to organize the place where will be the party. a huge house with an older american architecture. seeing it from the outside, it gave me an idea for a painting. lunch at natalee’s thai food. delicious. afternoon we went to mt shasta, my mom had business there. came back to yreka, then market. organizing the studio. dinner with mom at fireplace. i feel very tired right now.
11h54 agora pela manhã abri o instagram e comecei a ver diversas imagens do jaider esbell. com as legendas, fui começando a compreender a mensagem. choque e tristeza. sua partida é inesperada. a força de sua arte permanecerá. simpatizo e compartilho a maneira mais simples dessa escura notícia: encantou.
07h19 now waking up early brings new thoughts: is it healthy? all over i read that sleeping well is a must. i love to watch the sun rising…
16h43 we’ve just watched van sant’s restless. this and yesterday’s movie weren’t too agreeable to panda’s taste. interesting, i’ve enjoyed both when i was younger.
09h22 these last days are being quite amazing. firstly, the shock of realization. then start researching and seeing a behavior i can relate in many different references — in some, not just identification, but almost a copy of actions and thoughts. oh, it makes so much sense… also, i think it deals to a language clarity: that which i can name, i can relate.
10h14 “taking what is internal and implicit and making it external and explicit” – from a book
21h29 days of being social means that i don’t work in the atelier. weekends. i wish i could spend more time working.