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Monday, April 12, 2021

Thursday, April 8, 2021

Rio de Janeiro - The Working Bees





The city of Rio is awakening,
And it awakens at the suburbs first,
From its edges to within:
Where the working bees live
before they leave to serve;
serve the ones fast asleep.

The sleeping ones,
Sleep tight,
Because in sleep
you mimic and conquer death.

At the noble areas within Rio
one can see the lights
sparkling from the slums
and the ones rising to face living.

I met a man from a noble area

that smoke cigars at 7am
and between puffs told me to wise up:
In Brazil, he told me, there is no art anymore;
it is the law of the jungle
and to make movies here, Gringo, you have to pay.

My native country grew up

and fell in love with the dollar
and in the New Rio-
which is how they named the bus station-
you pay "an arm and a leg" to wash your hands.

I met in Rio
a group of hippies, and adventurers,
and signed them up to make a film

because there are always dreamers around:
searching for meaning, searching for something more
something that stretches farther than the limits of a city,
the color of your skin, of your sexual preferences,
farther than Rio, bigger than a country-a film is-
and its earthbound limits.

A film is a Parasite that festers.

For the man puffing his cigar
nothing is bigger than his Rio
nothing is bigger than the dollar
and the parcel of land he resides
and even the car one drives symbolizes his importance.

I met men like this everywhere:
France, Spain, London
and the United States of America,
where the dollar is made,
where now everyone is also asleep.
Because it is late,
it is always too late for men with cigars...

While they sleep through the night
I covertly plot a film
because sleeping is so goddamn tiresome.







Morning Rituals


Repeating the same day over and over without a schedule is like building a prison for ourselves.

The only time we are free is when we are following thoughtful directions we've written down for ourselves to follow. Directions for work, love, play; meticulously detailed.

Waking up, day after day, without a written plan is the illusion of freedom; a road paved with spontaneity leads to a shrinking cell.

Yet, even knowing this, every single day I want to shred that schedule to pieces and find me a Parisian Café: for bread, coffee and a nice book. At night!





Wednesday, April 7, 2021

Sunday, March 28, 2021

How to Deal with Negative Thoughts

 One of the most important tools to have: the ability to stop negative thoughts and pivot to a positive action



Impact Theory



Women of Impact




Thursday, March 11, 2021

CONVERSATIONS with TOM | Jordan Peterson on Constructing Your Identity, Chaos and Order, and the Escalating Culture Wars |

 


For all the artists out there, here is how Brazilian laureate poet, Carlos Drummond de Andrade, illustrates, in your language, the consequence of not grasping this. It is my belief that, it is what Dr. Peterson has realized: young people are staring at a stone unable to move forward, or, in Tom Bilyeu words, lacking the skills necessary to move forward.


IN THE MIDDLE OF THE ROAD THERE WAS A STONE
by Carlos Drummond  de Andrade

In the middle of the road there was a stone
There was a stone in the middle of the road
There was a stone
In the middle of the road there was a stone

Never shall I forget this event
In the life of my fatigued retinas
Never shall I forget that in the middle of the road
There was a stone
There was a stone in the middle of the road
In the middle of the road there was a stone


NO MEIO DO CAMINHO TINHA UMA PEDRA
by Carlos Drummond  de Andrade

No meio do caminho tinha uma pedra
Tinha uma pedra no meio do caminho
Tinha uma pedra
No meio do caminho tinha uma pedra

Nunca me esquecerei desse acontecimento
Na vida de minhas retinas tão fatigadas
Nunca me esquecerei que no meio do caminho
Tinha uma pedra
Tinha uma pedra no meio do caminho
No meio do caminho tinha uma pedra