sábado, 28 de julho de 2012

La demeure d'un ciel (my version)

Claro que isto não chega aos calcanhares da Brimsty mas de certo modo é uma homenagem a ela.
Alias tive esta canção na minha cabeça enquanto escrevia o meu ultimo teste este ano académico.

As fotos são de Vancouver Canada e de sitios variados em Portugal.

sexta-feira, 13 de julho de 2012

Honestly me

I have missed writing. These last few weeks I have attempted to get back to the pen and paper. I still feel as if I have nothing to write about but not everything that we write about has to come from outside ourselves. The most honest things we write come from within. Honesty with myself. If you are honest with no one else be honest with yourself. It won't clean the mind but at least the burden will feel smaller.
I am not always honest with myself I don't think anyone is. People too easily start believing their lies, the ones they made up. Like the mask we make up to wear. We took so much time making it and perfecting it that somehow in the midst of this creation we became the mask. In a way a bit like The Movie The Mask where Jim Carrey plays the protagonist. We become controlled by the mask we wear and when we finally take it off we don't remember who we are. Almost as if we are left with a partial amnesia. But then we have to build something, make something. We perhaps fall into creating another mask. Maybe it's a cycle of making and throwing away masks. The question we have to ask is who are we? Who am I? Does my profession define me? Does my name? Who am I and do I know myself? We discover ourselves throught our interactions with other, how we behave. We don't always know what our reaction will be. We learn about ourselves along side others not apart. It would be like the teacher who only teaches and does not learn from their students. Others don't know us but neither do we.

I spent a good chunk of my teenage life wondering who I was. Was I this or was I that? I descovered that I was neither this nor that. That I was both at the same time in my own way. I did not have to choose between being Canadian or Portuguese , or accept when I was forced fed that I was Italian. I am Canadian, I am Portuguese, and I am of Italian decent. I am no more of one of them then of the other. No part is more important. They all matter. Depending on the situation or time determines their importance otherwise they are equal. None of these parts of me goes against the fact that I like music or that I really like french, or that I love Quebec history.

It is based on the things that we know about ourselves that we must assume our identity and not create it. Communities create identies, individuals assume them. They recognize what is in them or don't but not recognizing or refusing to recognize is part of identity.

'Because I am me
or nobody will see'

terça-feira, 10 de julho de 2012

drawing 15 family picture (short version)

How to get around the cookie / drawing 13

'Okay I am preety much over cookie around 80, 90 % over it.
So I am starting something new. I am going to go one year without looking, hoping or desiring a boyfriend (with the exception of brief random moments, it will be a work in progress). I don't need one I never have. One year is my goal. But I am thinking of getting a fish and naming it Boyfriend. Then I won't be able to say I don't have one yet again if I ain't got time for a boyfriend I don't have time for a fish. I'm rambeling.
To accept someone else in our lives takes knowing ourselves. I am much more ready than I was say 3 years ago but I have a good path to walk yet.

So here goes my drawing from day 13.

A comic

domingo, 1 de julho de 2012

Oh who would ever wanna be king

You make me go crazy
Not knowing
And again
I follow the sunlight
Even though
You make my days bright.
I’m not worth a fight
I never even tried
Mind and heart defied.
Only once
Have I cried
No me
No you
In between reality
And a dream.
I like you
Just don’t know
Who the you is
Don’t know if you’re a dream
With a known face
Don’t know who the person
Behind the face is
Yet I look for God’s grace
For myself and what I think
You are
Should be alone
But when I think of you
It’s like there were two
Running, running
Still hiding
I blur the other faces.
I know you’re not
Not that you would care
That I notice
Writing you in my mind’s eye
Gives me no reason to cry
Maybe a white horse
Yet still I see what
Is in front of me
Trying to understand
If it’s any real
Is it wrong,
Should I write you a
Surely I will burn the words
Throw them to the wind
And yet even then
I won’t have peace
Rejecting, accepting, and
I feel. I Feel!
But soon I hope
I will
Forget you
Forget this feeling
In between fiction and
In between cookies
Away from the baking
I might let go