Funny how the world became so small, and with all the easy access to communication people seem to have lost their ability to be in touch with one another and communicate well. How many times I've seen a lack of trust and the inability to express one's feelings. That's why I created a song with lyrics such as "I want to be somebody, not just anybody"
I see the importance people have in our lives and sometimes just by the lack of communication in a world filled with communication lines we can get tangled, wrapped up and lost in the myriads of selves. So it's not really a lack of communication but of a "communion action", not of deliberately giving information to one another as much as a miscommunication in all aspects. When was the last time we really looked into each other's eyes and openly spoke from our hearts, and I mean literally, sensing each other's rhythms, not just a chit-chat or talk about things in general, but a pounding and vigourous beat. We are way too busy with our lives, searching for things we don't really know what or why, just to keep busy and stay away from what really matters, which is to commune, not only talk but listen to others, to make someone feel special, for we are in fact all unique in this world. That's why this 11.11.11 I pray we may all connect in one heart and soul to dance as one, May our spirits soar high and our lives be as a beam of light where the whole planet may sing in one tune wishing upon the stars as dreams come to fruition with creations of an unimaginable beauty.
"One day on Earth,
a new rebirth,
sing with me
with harmony,
let's join together,
you and me,
let's make this world a big symphony!" (lyrics & song by Ana C.)
Hope you may live each day as one day on earth.
HAPPY 11-11-11, every ONE!:)
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Showing posts with label Brazil. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Brazil. Show all posts
11/11/2011
8/27/2008
In Press to Impress: Two Hundred Years of Journalism in Brazil
The first Brazilian newspaper, the Gazeta of Rio de Janeiro, was printed in Brazil on September 10th, 1808. Three months before that the Correo Braziliense was considered the first press, although published oversea, in London, and entered in Brazil in a clandestine way, even though it was made for the elite and the monarchic (tres chic) regimen.
I once wanted to be a journalist just to have my dream gone on my first attempt to enter the most important University in Sao Paulo. But anyway, who told me I needed to become a journalist in order to be a writer, if I were already a storyteller since childhood? The day of my inscription for the exam (which for me meant almost to reach the same score as if I was to enter to the University of Medicine, almost like applying to be a doctor) a man who took care of the contenders, once he saw my choice for studies, said out loud, "One more liar in the world!" So much for an incentive to just leave it all behind. If I were to write I would write about the thruth, even if it was a fiction, it would be a fiction about the truth. I never stopped with my dream of being a writer, actually I never stopped being one, and what other people would say about to get me out of track, on the contrary, that would be enough reason for me to keep typing. That's how the introduction from this book by Paulo Coelho (see below) ressonates deep into my soul, when he says that when he thought he had given up his dream, life would sweep off the rug under his foot and get him back to what he most deeply wanted in his life: To be a writer. Don't you just hate when fate plays out its part and just press you against all the odds until you finally give up and see that it was all right?
I once wanted to be a journalist just to have my dream gone on my first attempt to enter the most important University in Sao Paulo. But anyway, who told me I needed to become a journalist in order to be a writer, if I were already a storyteller since childhood? The day of my inscription for the exam (which for me meant almost to reach the same score as if I was to enter to the University of Medicine, almost like applying to be a doctor) a man who took care of the contenders, once he saw my choice for studies, said out loud, "One more liar in the world!" So much for an incentive to just leave it all behind. If I were to write I would write about the thruth, even if it was a fiction, it would be a fiction about the truth. I never stopped with my dream of being a writer, actually I never stopped being one, and what other people would say about to get me out of track, on the contrary, that would be enough reason for me to keep typing. That's how the introduction from this book by Paulo Coelho (see below) ressonates deep into my soul, when he says that when he thought he had given up his dream, life would sweep off the rug under his foot and get him back to what he most deeply wanted in his life: To be a writer. Don't you just hate when fate plays out its part and just press you against all the odds until you finally give up and see that it was all right?
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8/16/2008
É Doce Morrer No Mar, Dorival!
It had been two month that his wife was there at the hospital. She had a heart attack, and as he waited for her to come back he also waited her call every day. Until he day she entered in a state of coma and it had been already nin days gone and he hadn't heard from her. Thinking that she was already dead and nobody did tell him, Caymmi, considered for all the grandpa of Bossa Nova, left us in his recently completed 94 years old.
Good-bye, Caymmi, you will be missed! Good-bye, long-played, so long...
É doce morrer no mar / Sweet it is to die in the sea
Nas ondas verdes do mar/ In the green waves of the sea
É doce morrer no mar / It's sweet to die in the sea
Nas ondas verdes do mar / In the green waves of the sea
Saveiro partiu de noite foi/ The boat left at night
Madrugada não voltou /Early in the morning he didn't come
O marinheiro bonito/ The handsome sailor
Sereia do mar levou/ The mermaid took him
A noite que ele não veio foi/ The night he didn't come was
Foi de tristeza prá mim/ It was so sad for me
Triste noite foi prá mim/ Sad night it was for me
Nas ondas verdes do mar/in the green waves of the sea
Ele se foi afogar/he drowned
Fez sua cama de noivo/He made his bed of groom
No colo de Iemanjá/ In the arms of Yemanja
É doce morrer... (Dorival Caymmi/Jorge Amado)
Good-bye, Caymmi, you will be missed! Good-bye, long-played, so long...
É doce morrer no mar / Sweet it is to die in the sea
Nas ondas verdes do mar/ In the green waves of the sea
É doce morrer no mar / It's sweet to die in the sea
Nas ondas verdes do mar / In the green waves of the sea
Saveiro partiu de noite foi/ The boat left at night
Madrugada não voltou /Early in the morning he didn't come
O marinheiro bonito/ The handsome sailor
Sereia do mar levou/ The mermaid took him
A noite que ele não veio foi/ The night he didn't come was
Foi de tristeza prá mim/ It was so sad for me
Triste noite foi prá mim/ Sad night it was for me
Nas ondas verdes do mar/in the green waves of the sea
Ele se foi afogar/he drowned
Fez sua cama de noivo/He made his bed of groom
No colo de Iemanjá/ In the arms of Yemanja
É doce morrer... (Dorival Caymmi/Jorge Amado)
5/02/2008
The Labyrinth that's been her life...
Ana in Lagoa Santa, Minas Gerais, BrasilL ong labyrinth, that is her life.
And that's the real fact.
But where this will bring her to??
Years gone and she doesn't know yet,
Redeemed with still so much strife
In one point to finally reach point two.
Nevertheless, she still has to face
The most contagious creatures embrace
Hopefully bringing peace to her heart.
"Millions of years have passed to build the structure that contains the visceral designs of a cave. And it is the same with life. We walk the path through tortuous roads, beneath the sea, under storms, and we arrive to the same place. For once we crossed the path, the way is forever traced and it seems evident that it had always been that way, and we forget for an instance about the miracle of a path which looked similar to a return. Only it was not." Ana: A "playdrome" wor(l)d
3/26/2008
Genial Ennio Went into Tears this weekend...
When I watched "Cinema Paradiso" almost twenty years ago, I was so mesmerized by its lyricism that all that I could come up with in the end was, "Who wrote this music?" This movie impacted me in such a way that my life couldn't be the same after that. But without this music would that have as much as an influence to all of us? Certainly, the music involves our emotions, and its so in sync with the scenes, that now it's impossible to dissociate image and sound. And so is the case with GEnnio Morricone. He's rather a genius! With only a sketch from what a movie is about and he can come up with a hole symphony of emotions and related atmosphere.
His life, his charisma, his style is so intertwined-tuned with what he provokes/creates that is not difficult to imagine what a soul, so sensitive to other people's feelings and emotions and the various tones of movement and sounds, would think of a project made for the future generation which main aim is to integrate poor children to society. And that's the case of a favela in Sao Paulo, where they develop children by teaching them music and dance. Morricone, two days after his last concerto in Santiago less than a week ago (which I had the privilege and pleasure to attend) went to the only concert he would give in Sao Paulo, but not before pouring some tears, overwhelmed by those little musicians/magicians from the biggest favela of Sao Paulo, playing "Tema d'Amore" which was the only one in their representation that they had included from his repertoire, the music who made me wonder who was its composer.
The report about his visit in Sao Paulo:
(Click on the pics to get a bigger picture:)
The Concert in the Bicentenary Park was huge. I sat on the last balcony. From there I could see most of everything. The mountains with ice on top, the long and wide road from afar, with fast cars sounding like waves on the ocean of a city that seems to never stop, and people all formally dressed up for the occasion, mostly in black and white (including myself!;) All of a sudden I viewed a glowing bald head appearing slowly in the middle of the Andes. No, it was not the grand Maestro yet. It was the big and beautiful bright full moon. The cameraman couldn't miss this prelude from the Concert for nothing in this world and he incorporated the full moon with an incredible zooming, showing the same image of the silver sphere (with its craters and lines now visible to our naked eyes thanks to his powerful lens) and project it into the two big screens they had reserved to show Ennio Morricone and the orchestra of Rome along with the choral from the University of Chile. People were already very excited, and they applauded the happy occasion of seeing the moon with its all splendour. 
Then Ennio arrived with a big ovation from the public and started with Ave Maria Guarani so apropos with what we just had watched. When it arrived to the themes from Cinema Paradiso and Malena, I was almost in tears. Then when he played Gabriel's Oboe from the Mission I was in ecstasy. And I sang along with the choral in Latin.
In the end we all stood up and applauded like crazy. I whistled many times and I clapped my hands calling him back. He came back four times. But I wanted more... I whistled and whistled, singing a little tune I had just invented but with all my breath, a little music like saying, "I love you, Ennio, please come back!" But then he was gone. Then I remembered when I went to see the Falls in Iguazu, south of Brazil. It was that sensation of jumping into a sea of a harmonic symphony, the world in unison. A divine and flamboyant Concert that will be forever in my heart!
I and The Falls from Iguazu
The Falls from "The Mission":
His life, his charisma, his style is so intertwined-tuned with what he provokes/creates that is not difficult to imagine what a soul, so sensitive to other people's feelings and emotions and the various tones of movement and sounds, would think of a project made for the future generation which main aim is to integrate poor children to society. And that's the case of a favela in Sao Paulo, where they develop children by teaching them music and dance. Morricone, two days after his last concerto in Santiago less than a week ago (which I had the privilege and pleasure to attend) went to the only concert he would give in Sao Paulo, but not before pouring some tears, overwhelmed by those little musicians/magicians from the biggest favela of Sao Paulo, playing "Tema d'Amore" which was the only one in their representation that they had included from his repertoire, the music who made me wonder who was its composer.
The report about his visit in Sao Paulo:
(Click on the pics to get a bigger picture:)
The Concert in the Bicentenary Park was huge. I sat on the last balcony. From there I could see most of everything. The mountains with ice on top, the long and wide road from afar, with fast cars sounding like waves on the ocean of a city that seems to never stop, and people all formally dressed up for the occasion, mostly in black and white (including myself!;) All of a sudden I viewed a glowing bald head appearing slowly in the middle of the Andes. No, it was not the grand Maestro yet. It was the big and beautiful bright full moon. The cameraman couldn't miss this prelude from the Concert for nothing in this world and he incorporated the full moon with an incredible zooming, showing the same image of the silver sphere (with its craters and lines now visible to our naked eyes thanks to his powerful lens) and project it into the two big screens they had reserved to show Ennio Morricone and the orchestra of Rome along with the choral from the University of Chile. People were already very excited, and they applauded the happy occasion of seeing the moon with its all splendour. 
Then Ennio arrived with a big ovation from the public and started with Ave Maria Guarani so apropos with what we just had watched. When it arrived to the themes from Cinema Paradiso and Malena, I was almost in tears. Then when he played Gabriel's Oboe from the Mission I was in ecstasy. And I sang along with the choral in Latin.
In the end we all stood up and applauded like crazy. I whistled many times and I clapped my hands calling him back. He came back four times. But I wanted more... I whistled and whistled, singing a little tune I had just invented but with all my breath, a little music like saying, "I love you, Ennio, please come back!" But then he was gone. Then I remembered when I went to see the Falls in Iguazu, south of Brazil. It was that sensation of jumping into a sea of a harmonic symphony, the world in unison. A divine and flamboyant Concert that will be forever in my heart!
I and The Falls from Iguazu
The Falls from "The Mission":
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