a few days ago, for the first time in my life, i chopped wood for fire. what a pleasurable action. we are stocking it for the next days, which are getting colder and colder. phone over 1h30 with a. afterwards, went to etna.
(d) Francisco Brennand – doc – 2012
não conhecia muito do artista. deu vontade de visitar seu espaço e mergulhar mais a fundo em seu universo. bom ver o peso que a pintura teve em sua vida. no filme, ele volta e meia fala sobre a pintura parecer/fugir do realismo… o peso da figuração, principalmente da forma feminina. gostei do brennand falando sobre a matéria das esculturas, dar-se a entender pelo som que ela emite se merece ou não viver. em outro momento ele diz mostra uma argila que está no seu ateliê há anos. a fornalha com nome de prometeu, simplesmente genial. urubu. peixe. mulher. pintura. letra da assinatura. o tempo, a vida. o registro de um diário.
(tv) Ride the Tiger – PBS – 2016
most advanced studies of the brain and its disfunctions. how can we deal with this machine?
12h56 i, that operate through images, just realized that most of the posts here have been texts. why’s that? am i lazy to just take photographs and post them? or… i don’t want to post them in instagram, otherwise i’ll be stuck with the cellphone. the race
i heard about assertiveness for the first time in a nvc course some years ago. then i did another course and got deeper into it. yesterday i did a test and it showed what i already knew: my assertiveness is very low. so what to do? read a book about it. just started the assertiveness workbook, by randy j. peterson.
[why do i feel quasi-ashamed to write it here? because it might fit the “self-help” section of books? oh, my prejudices. in any case, isn’t all books self-help? all philosophy and literature included. two of the prejudices, at least mine, is truly against digested thoughts and the motivation of the work — when we can see we think we know the creator’s motivation is money or recognition.]
back to the book. it seems really helpful to understand about the possibilities that an assertive communication can bring. in this perspective, what are the other options? passive, aggressive or passive-aggressive. i would rather learn a better, most respectful way to myself and others than to let my ignorance and automatism prevail.
i never officially did, but it seems that writing is starting to be a kind of therapy. anyways, i will start as soon i go back home.
night: while mother and i were watching the movie mr jones, we’ve heard dana screaming. she was excited because it was snowing. the first snow of the year gives us so much pleasure and hapiness.
o que eu sei // o que eu sinto what do i know // what do i feel what do i know // how do i feel
socrates dialogue about bed (painting and reality 6.3, etienne gilson)
finally the sky is clear and i can see the sunrise. delight.
16h54
bike ride this afternoon. went to the library for the first time here in yreka. had some interesting books, not too many in the art section. it had a huge catalogue of ben shahn, american artist that i’ve wanted to know more… also i did some drawing based on prints from a siskiyou county’s history book. most of the info was around the 1850~90’s. lots of portuguese and even brazilian heritage in this region. who would’ve known?!
also went to the new cafe+book shop here in town. coudn’t resist and bought a book: octavio paz’s the other voice. essays about modern poetry. to deal with my problem with books — problem because it is an addiction — i will start writing about the books i’m buying. hopefully it will get things a bit more controlled. if i had the money, i would buy with no hard feeling. but i haven’t, so i shouldn’t.
it feels good to do exercise. it’s getting colder and colder…
noite: mãe apareceu aqui de surpresa. fizemos uma ligação com amanda. foi das melhores ligações da vida. falamos sobre amor, conexões, histórias e planejamentos.
went to mount shasta this morning. it has been foggy for a few days, but i took the chance to go up the mountain. i got lucky and sometimes the sky got clear. because of the cold, i did some drawings inside the car. it was pleasurable.
yesterday i spoke with grandma and finally she named the chicken that was hers to name it: ladybug (joaninha!) such a perfect name!
07h16 read camus’ essay create dangerously. short but powerful read.
“Then, every once in a while, a new world appears, different from the everyday world and yet the same, particular but universal, full of innocent insecurity—called forth for a few hours by the power and longing of genius”
“This is why the artist, at the end of his slow advance, absolves instead of condemning. Instead of being a judge, he is a justifier”
“The free artist is the one who, with great effort, creates his own order”
yesterday i got some books in the mail. the most incredible is manoel de barros’s compilation in english. i am amazed! just to see that someone tried what seemed an impossible task — to translate manoel! him and fernando pessoa, with all my limitations, makes me love the portuguese language.
lazy sunday. at least in the atelier. walk in park with mother. christmas lights around the house. cellphone fell while i was trying to make a photograph of a beautiful buck. i won’t look for a solution right now. i feel this as an omen: stop wasting time and go to work.
i was already in bed a while a go and couldn’t resist going to sleep without making anything today. got up and did some drawings.
05h19 i know i’m waking up really early, so i go to bed also really early. like 21h30. not completely 8 hours, but i try!
a random thought passed through my mind and i searched about how jeff bridges is doing — i knew that he is going through a healing cancer process — and today is his birthday. nice coincidence. he is getting through it, it seems he is doing healthy and fine.
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eu não sei, mas tô querendo saber para depois poder dizer agora sim sei que não sei.
(mais que saber, desejo mesmo é a prática do fazer)
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afternoon: kirk’s birthday. six years old!
23h14 desenhos noturnos. acabei de reencontrar textos de um blog de 2008~10. consigo ver com maior distanciamento e analisar sem tanta identificação pessoal. de início já fica claro a má qualidade, principalmente da forma da escrita. porém serviu como encontro. saio meio chocado, pasmo.
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…