The Horrible Face Of Loneliness

The Loneliness looked exactly like this creature when I looked at it for the first time. It was placed at one of the ceiling corners, completely still and watching me with eagle eyes. Not knowing what to do, I opened and fixed my eyes, staring at it with fear and wonder…

 I stopped writing a bit, just to comfort myself from the feeling of anger that still invades my heart reminiscing that bizarre moment. How awful could that be? To find a freak like that, hidden in your space, carving its way into your life…the first question was- since when it was there and where it came from. The visual still brings an agony to my soul and my desire is to make it disappear like a paper ripped by an agitated boy.

Of course, I did not know what to do. I could not possibly fight back, that was a coward match, was simply a monster attacking a kid.  This happened in my pre teenager years, once in awhile It comes to my mind but today I gave it a face- I draw it to show you how obnoxious the weirdo was. In all those years, this mutant came along with me for long journeys; it accompanied me at school, tried to splash itself in my bedroom and insisted in walk with me through the parks.

I could write a book to tell the outcome of that experience. I even wrote a few songs about it. I also learned to cook, invited friends and people that I barely knew for dinner. I learned to forgive, to let it go, to give without receiving, but I always felt like I was missing something…

My healing only came after understanding that I was, actually not alone. The Lord Himself was with me.  Oh my!!!!! How could I not see Him before? The cross goes up and down (vertical), meaning Him and me fist. Then it put me in the middle and goes towards my right and towards my left (horizontal). I am, exactly, in the center of the universe” I calmed myself down completely and felt my heart comforted. If “Loneliness is really a form of neediness”, I am all set. http://bit.ly/9Y5V6O
 
Ah, where is the creature that was in the ceiling corner? I starved it to death when I learned to love and nurture people and accept them for who they are.
Bingo

I Don't Know Who This Bird Is.

  I don't know who this bird is. I found him today. It was living in my living room, behind some art work... I don't even know his name... If I found out more about it, I'll  post here.

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Thristy for God

Today I could not stand anymore. I have to come to my room, put my knees on the floor and cry in the Lord’s presence. Overwhelmed by the life style of not having God included in my life I am now succumbing. It is not cool and it is not fun to walk around serving only my own desires and interacting with destructive and disruptive forces. My spirit agonizes with a specific loneliness; I am missing a relationship with my creator so bad that I cannot even recognize myself anymore. God put the eternity in the human’s hearts, we are eternal, we had a beginning but not an end. My spirit is longing for His presence.

The amazing Psalm 42 comes to my mind and I have to bring it here.  I believe that everybody else has the same thirstiness; we all know that humankind needs the divine. 

      As the deer longs for streams of water,

so I long for you, O God.

 I thirst for God, the living God.

When can I go and stand before him?

 Day and night I have only tears for food,

while my enemies continually taunt me, saying,

“Where is this God of yours?”

 My heart is breaking

as I remember how it used to be:

I walked among the crowds of worshipers,

leading a great procession to the house of God,

singing for joy and giving thanks

amid the sound of a great celebration!

  Why am I discouraged?

Why is my heart so sad?

I will put my hope in God!

I will praise him again—

my Savior and 6 my God!

Now I am deeply discouraged,

but I will remember you—

even from distant Mount Hermon, the source of the Jordan,

from the land of Mount Mizar.

 I hear the tumult of the raging seas

as your waves and surging tides sweep over me.

 But each day the Lord pours his unfailing love upon me,

and through each night I sing his songs,

praying to God who gives me life.

 “O God my rock,” I cry,

“Why have you forgotten me?

Why must I wander around in grief,

oppressed by my enemies?”

 Their taunts break my bones.

They scoff, “Where is this God of yours?”

   Why am I discouraged?

Why is my heart so sad?

I will put my hope in God!

I will praise him again—

my Savior and my God

A Stranger Of Mine

This amazing man is a stranger of mine. We crossed each other’s path a while ago and stayed in each other’s life for about 30 seconds. An intricate sequence of events brought that man and I to be at same spot, at the same time, in that fresh morning. It was like a masterpiece of coordination between the universe and us.

We were at the Boston Marathon among hundreds of people and in a glance of a corner I saw the unusual. I was instantly attracted to him and in an inexplicable move I asked for a picture_ Sir, please can I take a picture with you? We did not look at each other eyes and never touched each other hands but he stopped his life for a bit of a fraction and posed with me.

I want to make the whole thing very special. Amused by the fact that this fellow had dressed up with the purpose of calling my attention I will let him know that I liked it. He had the courage to go out with that groovy outfit, crazy enough to open the doors of his personal space to strangers like me.

.

I had this desire to spend at least five minutes with every person in the world, I did not spent it with this one but I will treasure our little gathering forever. Now looking at this picture, I like to imagine how his face was when he was just a baby; the happiness of his mother upon bearing him and looking at his eyes for the first time. I like to think that once he was cute and innocent, then he grew older to be a boy, that liked so much to play with friends, liked long walks at the park and had a pounding heart at Christmas mornings.

I visualize him seating in a chair, at the porch, looking at the stars.

I get emotional grasping about the first time he felt in love, and I worry if he ever suffered for that or, if he had his dear heart broken in one way or another…Of course all this is just my fantasy trying to nurture a relationship that never happened.

Forgetting the past, I am wondering if there is hope in his heart, and how is he doing in the present century. I would love to know if he dares to speak to the Lord and if he is able to hear the Lord’s voice back…

Because of the brevity of our encounter, I will never get to know which colors he prefers, what kind of movies he enjoys; what makes him laugh and if I could making him emotional baking a chocolate cake for the special occasion of his birthday.

There is nothing more to this story, this is the strange of my, whose death I will never know about and that never will cry for me when my times to pass will come.

Nice to meet you Mr. Stranger ...I have regretted though, that I had not asked your name.

The Little Plover

The Little Plover

This little guy is fascinating, he is blue and lives in a blue world, he has those black lines going up and down making him look charmingly odd; his legs are enormous and he owns the water. He is very courageous. At night time he kind of blows in the dark. He is actually just a little thing, which gives me the impression that I can fit him in between my hands.

The most alluring thing about this creature is his arresting eyes. I honestly never saw eyes with such a sweetness; if you take the time to stare at it, a surprising calmness will conduct you to a feeling of well being.

What comes to my mind when I look at this honey are words like: reliable, responsible, always there, carrying the load, good as one's word, loyal, rock like, secure, stable, steadfast, steady, sure, to be counted on, tried, tried-and-true, true, trustworthy, trusty, unfailing.

He has a lot to say but he won’t, because no talking is poetry.

I saw him for the first time when I was walking completely alone on the beaches of California. All of sudden the bitterness of my solitude went away like flying, and my eyes were open to see it there, moving in a incredible speed, dancing with the waves and being astonishing like only himself.

So many things could have been documented here to describe the Little Plover but I will stop right now and let you complete this text with me. I will let you guys meet each other and get emotional with each other. Let me know if this tiny being touched your heart.

Loooooooooooooooooooooove

The Fondest Day In California

I keep saying that people from California are very unfriendly, closed and individualist who give one the impression that in most places, you are a non person (http://bit.ly/bbcRW2) because they don’t even see you. Yeah, but I have to post here that yesterday I had a very social day in LA and my heart felt nice and fuzzy with so much attention.

Walking on Hollywood BLVD for the fist time ever, I was thrilled that Michael Jackson, actually, smiled at me. The Superman said hi and Batman, trying to be funny came from behind me and lifted his humongous wings which was cool. The wonder woman was available for pictures if I wanted, exactly at the time when Spider man was showing off trying to get my attention. Even the new guy from Alice in Wonderland was all accessible and well-disposed. There was, also, this old rapper man that asked for my name and created a little song especially for me. Oh my! How special these people from California can make me feel…

So to finish the day in a great style, we went to Paul’s Birthday party and there I confirmed what I am saying here. Almost everybody said hi. I was so surprised, and, guess what- I made three friends and a fourth one, the one with a light green colored hair, spent a long time hanging out. See? For almost five hours we chatted and laughed and teased each other like old friends.

I guess today I have to rethink all I had said against these chummy people, even thought I woke up in San Diego again, where I feel like I am inside a plastic bubble... doesn’t matter where I go. At least I’ll keep in my head the delicious memories of the fondest day I had in the West. Talk about having a blast.

Flee Like a Bird to Your Moutain.

I am completely lost right now, I need a place to put my feet on. I do not have a studio to paint, I don't have home, I don't even have a city, imagine a country. I am nowhere, belonging nowhere like a traveler between times.

March 21, 2010

The sensation that I have right now is that I am in the air; I have no place to put my feet on, I was telling a friend that I am going back home and back home is East of North America. What could be more mess up than that? A Brazilian person departing from California heading home finishes her journey in Boston Massachusetts. I remember that in the night I left Brazil I spent some moments with myself in my room and I felt some strange feelings. I heard my heart out loud telling me to not go anywhere, to not leave my people, to be content there. “Otherwise, If you go, you will have your heart divided for ever between two lands, you’ll experience the emptiness that being a alien causes. The worse though, is when the time passes and the years get sprayed with loneliness, your heart, now, so used to strange lands, will feel comfortable being faraway. In that point you have no country anymore and your life perspective will change forever. So, don’t go”… I heard everything my heart was saying, got ready, kissed my family and departed.

The night was nice and warm; I had a bunch of friends at the airport saying good bye. I was feeling romantic and thrilled. I was about to materialize my dream of going to America, I was deliciously overwhelmed with the idea that,” when I wake up tomorrow morning in the airplane I will be in another world….

That happened 16 years ago, with thousands of stories in between, I am only sure about one thing now, I will be happy anyway, anywhere, doesn’t matter what.

Maybe home is the world.

I am actually, a world citizen,

Surely goodness and love will follow me
all the days of my life,
and I will dwell in the house of the LORD
forever. Psalm 23:6

Psalm 11:1Of David. In the LORD I take refuge. How then can you say to me:

"Flee like a bird to your mountain."

Psalm 102:7
I lie awake; I have become like a bird alone on a roof.

My oldest brother told me that it is better to be the head of a lamb in your own country ,then to be the tale of a lion in somebody else land.

Proverbs 27:8
Like a bird that strays from its nest is a man who strays from his home.

I lost my sense of direction when we moved to San Diego Ca, first I had to cope with the pain of founding out that the "sunny city" was just a fraud and the appearance of paradise is just external...but this is a subject for another posting.

The Wound from where the Pearl Will be Born.

Looking for a Pearl

The ocean breeze in this afternoon is amazingly kind; it is refreshing and smells like joy.

I had to bring my self back to the ocean again today just because I am still hurting, but in the beginning of the process of healing from what had happened in the latest circumstances and its effect on my personal life. I was truly more calm because I had forgave my own sins yesterday, what brought balance to my emotions. When I was sitting on the sand I had a delicious moment of interaction with the colors. The sky was definitely ultramarine blue, from the horizon line and up a refreshing glaze was evaporating towards the universe, underneath that a dark green divided the scene interrelating with the blues and greens of the waves. Everything was so nice and perfect till a popping and a jumping white graciously rushes in my direction as if it is trying to reach me.

I am delighted with the gentleness I have been treating myself right now. Even thought I am feeling sad and embarrassed I am leading my mind to not practice self punishment, propensity to self hurt, to not get into blaming games, be too strict on me or too unreasonable with my own being. That is, actually the first time I see my soul getting to my side so consistently to overcome failure. Probably by now the reader is thinking that I am crazy and I am not making any sense. I am just hiding in the words that I am experiencing a difficult situation and I am counting on myself only to get my pieces together, raise my head above the water and keep on going. The exact narrative of the facts is not necessary once it is just an immense cut wide open what I can see right now. I have been hanging in there; nursing the pain I am feeling, hoping that from this wound I caused will arise a magnificent pearl which will make me a very reach person. For now thought, it is hurting like a gun shot.

Creation of a pearl

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pearl#Natural_pearls

Pearls are formed inside the shell of certain mollusks: as a defense mechanism to a potentially threatening irritant such as a parasite inside its shell, or an attack from outside, injuring the mantle tissue. The mollusk creates a pearl sac to seal off the irritation.

I wont let this pain go

without leaving me a pearl.

I will have a pearl from

If it is hurting me so badly I must collect a pearl from it.

Lonely Sunday

ITS SUNDAY EVERYBODY!!

I remember Sundays that I had to drag myself through it, I recall passing the long hours of boredom trying to make sense on those feelings that the last day of the week usually brings. It is not that I am dying here or have to take a pill or something, it is just that I am not excited enough, my soul is very quiet resting in a corner of expectations. At least is sunny today, what makes me feel fuzzy; the fact that I can go outside and walk to distract my mind gives me a little relieved. I should walk to the beach and spend a time there thinking about things… It is good to seat alone and put your life in perspective.

"It is good to wait quietly for the salvation of the Lord.

It is good for a man to bear the yoke
while he is young.

Let him sit alone in silence,
for the LORD has laid it on him."

Jeremiah 3:24,25,26

The Sparrows And The Japanese Ladies

       The Winter Sparrows And The Japanese Ladies

I consider this one my master piece. It is an amazing piece of art that made itself , took me more than two months to finish it, but more than a year to consider it done. My friend Bob Littler gave the wood canvas and I hung it on the wall in front of my work bench. I was planning to look at it everyday till I find the image that was hiding behind the emptiness. I knew for sure it was birds, I just didn't know what kind they were, and if they would come in flocks or just a lonely one. Everyday day I looked at it intensively searching for shapes and forms trying to get a grip of my imagination. One day for nothing I got a brown charcoal and started to put uneven oval shapes here and there, and then I got the black charcoal and pinched the wood on the top of those shapes. It was so simple, so unworried, and quite quick. I let it rest for some time and when I was sure that all the birds had come, I applied acrylic painting on the top of the charcoal

Two months later, the great photographer David Spencer named it “The Chickadees”, after some time he came back to my studio to tell me that they were actually sparrows and changed the name for “The Sparrows”. A year later a nice lady that came to the open studios at the Plain St art show in Rockland ,Boston, approached me to say  that she loved my Japanese ladies. I was intrigued and asked her to show me where she saw them. She pointed me the little birds; explained to me that the Japanese ladies that she was seeing, were dressing with their kimonos, going up to the temple. It was a bizarre experience seeing the two faces of this painting for the first time, and then I officially announced that a master piece had been born, and I named it The Sparrows And The Japanese Ladies.

How I Met The Birds

It is an amazing story how I came to paint the birds:

In one of those delicious summer in Brazil I went to a trip to a paradise town called Prado (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XSvktYZxDvA&feature=related) in the state of Bahia.( http://www.pradobahiabrasil.com.br/praias.html) There I met a strange artist that was living in one of the most amazing beaches in the world, in a exquisite round house (designed by himself) decorated with glasses and mirrors with surreal effects that allowed you to see the ocean on the front porch and the woods on the back yard in the same time. Did not matter where you were in the house you could see everything, everywhere; even the sunrise and sunset on both places. Besides living in that stunning place that man only painted birds. I tried to understand that bizarre creature and painted one bird just to have a taste of it, I had the need to check if I could see something else beyond a picture of a silly bird that a strange man dedicated his life to. Then… I never could stop doing it anymore…

Wondering About Courage

.This post is about me fooling around the thought of courage.

I got emotional every time a child gives me a drawing. And I feel exactly like a kid when I show my art work to anybody. I discovered very early that I had courage to make art,

I noticed that I had to have courage so many times to create art, it is not ease to expose your heart constantly like that...

...and I had some pieces like "The Trojan Horse" , it was left to the ostracism for long time.

http://bit.ly/7GGoGf

The truth of the matter is that an artist reveals his/her soul in every picture.You have to prepare yourself for the consequences of being revealed, then you have to look at people in their eyes because they will see you, they will see your edge.

Be an artist is like this: You paint, and then you prepare to fight.

In spite of everything I shall rise again: I will take up my pencil, which I have forsaken in my great discouragement, and I will go on with my drawing.

Vincent Van Gogh

All artist are naive

What would life be if we had no courage to attempt anything?
Vincent Van Gogh



All art requires courage. (Anne Tucker)

COURAGE, COURAGE,.......

...........................................

Courage is a kind of salvation. (Plato)


Courage is the mental and moral strength to venture, persevere, and withstand danger, fear, or difficulty. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Courage

Courage, also known as bravery, will, intrepidity, and loyalty, is the ability to confront fear, pain, risk/danger, uncertainty, or intimidation. "Physical courage" is courage in the face of physical pain, hardship, Death, or threat of death, while "moral courage" is the ability to act rightly in the face of popular opposition, shame, scandal, or discouragement.

http://www.spring.org.uk/2007/08/what-is-courage.php

http://su.pr/1dQrv

• courage is "grace under pressure". Ernest Hemingway

• Leap, and the net will appear. (John Burroughs)

• A man full of courage is also full of faith. (Cicero)

• I love the courage and freedom that comes with being a crazy old lady... no holds, no barriers, no fear. (Kay Cox)

• You learn courage by couraging. (Mary Daly)

• If you're looking for something to be brave about, consider fine arts. (Robert Frost)

• Dare to be naive. (Buckminster Fuller)

• What would life be if we had no courage to attempt anything? (Vincent van Gogh)

• Life shrinks or expands in proportion to one's courage. (Anais Nin)

• All art requires courage. (Anne Tucker)

• Dare to be irrational! - keep free from formulas, open to any fresh impulse, fluid. (Edward Weston)

• A man shows reckless courage in entering into the abyss of himself. (William Butler Yeats)

The Artist Portrait

This picture was taken by the fabulous photographer David Spencer (www.davidspencerphoto.com) in his studio in Rockland Ma; we were in the old Codman Building where the Plain St famous group of artists were painting at the time. (www.4thfloorartists.org ) That was the fist time I had to pose and I was quite shy.
I suggested loud music to take my attention away from the machine eyes in front of me, and the fact that David was examining me like that was almost embarrassing. For me this cute image is showing that I was trying to hid myself the whole time, or that I was clouded with my gender worries about appearances, or that I am really that naïve and mysterious woman that his lenses discovered .
It is intriguing the effect that this photography has on people. The Brazilians applaud it, the Americans doesn’t know what to say, and a men from India urged me to take the photo from the web right way. One of my student’s mothers rebuked her for looking at naked people when she was checking my website; a couple of people saw sadness and what my husband said I cannot write in here. Some times I look at the figure trying to find a reason to ostracize it, but them I see the naïve again and I let it go. My honesty is knocking at the door again to lead me to the main point of the discussion: ….then I don’t want to think about it and I just stick with the reflection of innocence David so well portrayed .

An artist, just an artist. It is simple like that.

OK, all right, I will blog. I will write about the artist life. Of course lots of my own life will be included, after all what am I if not an artist? I realized it when I was still very young and I noticed that everybody had noticed that I was “different”. Took me forever to understand that it was Ok to think and talk and look not in the same way as everybody else’s. I have to confess here if I want to be loyal to my memory, that some of my friends called me “doidinha”, it was an affectionate way to say crazy in Portuguese. In that time, because I did not had understood who I was and because I was so young and naïve, that hurt me a lot. But then life got very confused when I started to dream about becoming a successful business woman. I tried so hard and waisted so much time and money till I found out that: the primarily reason for my failures was the fact that I was a right brainier, and had not worked on this aspect of my life at all. Nobody ever spoke to me about that, the schools I studied never explored that, all that society knows about it is the result of the recent researches. So, I new it inside me and I developed naturally what I was in the deep of my core.

Of course I have to state that my adjustment to family and society was painful.

Ok, how can a person functions being?

1 - fantasy-oriented

2 - holistic

3- random

4 - subjective

“On the other hand, right-brain students are the dreamers. They can be very intelligent and very deep thinkers—so much so that they can get lost in their own little worlds. They make great students of the social sciences and the arts. They are more spontaneous than the cautious left-brainers, and they are likely to follow their own gut feelings.”

http://homeworktips.about.com/od/learningstyles/a/leftrightbrain.htm

In all my life I remember creating those spectacular and well articulated “little worlds” and living comfortably in them. Reading this that quickly looks simple and comfy, but it gets very complicated once the dynamic of life carries you in. Then you understand what crazy is and you humbled yourself to the maximum:

That’s my bio:

My work is the fruit of who I am. Does not matter if I like it or not, I am an artist.

It comes from an intrinsic need to "create" something. I create an image and call
that the essence of my soul and allege that it is just enough to explain everything else in my whole life. Now at this stage of my existence, I am far away from the time
when these things may caused me embarrassment.

What?

An artist?

What do you mean by that?

I mean an aritist, just an artist

It is simple like that.