Quando falo em escuro
Penso em nao tao escuro assim

Se falo em cheio
Lembro o muito, e o vazio,
talvez.

Se eles falam em Deus,
Remeto-me a paz,
e o que a antecede.

No inferno ha um azul,
No amarelo, um lilas,
Na inercia ha um infinito movimento,
No silencio, uma cidade.

Tudo e luz e frio,
Frio e calma,
Asas e peso.

Tenho vontade de olhar para dentro -
Agressiva curiosidade -
Dilascerar, separar cada viscera,
Rir do meu estomago.

Quero olhar para dentro fundo,
profundo, profano meu desejo.
Ver o que nunca me foi concedido.
Quero avistar meus oceanos,
Meus abismos, luas e ceus, a lava.

Toda sentidos, no paradoxo do corporeo,
Agora sentido tao etereo e efemero,
Tocar no lixo protegido
Sentir o cheiro da grande orgia
Guardia dos meus medos.
Ouvir de longe a efervescencia violenta
dos desejos, meus desejos
Que me fazem andar nao em uma,
Mas em varias linhas curvas.

Com minha boca molhada,
Compreender finalmente o gosto da minha
pintura interna, feita a infinitas maos.

Com minhas maos, agora sujar mais um amarelo,
Com minhas maos, agora cavar um pouco mais o tunel,

Acariciar o intestino, E subir a tona, puta,

Agarrando-me a cada pulsao, instinto,
cada movimento involuntario,
Que me faz respirar.

(1994)

Ha entre nos mais de 5000 milhas, cobertas com uns sonhos, muitas vezes, quando eh noite aqui, e dia, la.
Ouco na casa da minha mae ainda os passos do meu pai no piso de madeira, que, embora tenha sido tantas vezes envernizado, ainda estala nos mesmos lugares. Ouco tambem as unhas grandes da nossa cadelinha Vicky, que cruzava o corredor apressadamente para pular um obstaculo-almofada, oferecido pela minha irma, entao futura veterinaria. Vejo o armario gigantesco de LPs do meu pai, intensamente populado por mais de 1000 discos, o toca-disco do lado direito, o amplificador, reverberador e toca-fita do lado esquerdo. Tinha tambem aquele outro aparelho no alto, que eu nunca entendi para o que servia, embora jamais desistisse de tentar entender.
O meu quarto, meu unico verdadeiro casulo no mundo, que passou por tantas transformacoes, me vendo passar de crianca a adolescente, de adolescente a adulto. Minha primeira gaveta, cheia de segredos, cartas antigas, diarios, fotos, passaportes, cadernetas de escola velhas, todos abracados e espremidos um contra o outro, na mesma escuridao de gaveta. Os armarios que minha mae tentou esvaziar para faze-los mais uteis, mas nao conseguiu.
A parede que pintei de amarelo laranja, quando namorava o Joao.
A janela, de onde eu antes via o Pao de Acucar, e hoje vejo apenas o predio vizinho e seus feios moradores com suas vidas devassadas pelas inumeras janelas.
O barulho do transito, o barulho do telefone que toca muito, da secretaria eletronica, a televisao. O interfone, o porteiro avisando que eh o entregador da padaria, trazendo pao e coca-cola, ou a farmacia.
A presenca do meu pai no ar que eu respiro, o calor, os horarios diferentes, o espaco pequeno – quem sabe nao eh uma contracao?

Queria nascer de novo, nao, queria voltar… nao, queria viver parada ali, onde tudo era protecao, mae, pai, irma, cachorro, periquitos.

Mas o tempo expandiu, tudo expandiu, onde mesmo, estou? Como, mesmo estou aqui? Como, mesmo, estou?…

Olho para minha mae e minha irma, e minha vontade de te-las num ninho novamente eh tao grande que so posso mesmo abraca-las e chorar.

Going downstairs. First like flying over the steps on a circular staircase. Probably in an old school. Escaping (??). Faster is better, I fly over the stairs. Falling feel like flying for a little while (?!)

Then touching each step carefully. The steps were rustic, colored (pastel colors), tall and thin. There were relatives of an old boyfriend around, it was maybe his house (this boyfriend passed away last year).

Fuck up after fuck up,
day by day.
That’s a life of infinite options.

Choices
That I blew
Big time

My time, my youth,
I blew it all,
without prejudice.
Waking up everyday,
thinking –
- maybe today it will be better.
But the skies would always open,
and from the thundercloud
the giant finger would point at me and say –
- “you were meant to make poor decisions.
Deal with it.”

Still, I keep on
Living,

Fucking up.

I fuck up,
Therefore
I am

I just wanted to be in peace with my choices.

To think about the infinity
Is to think of nothing:
Deep and noble meditation.
Impossible!
I am too much of a human being
(and too western)
to think of nothing.

I have a vague notion of what they say about
the Infinity:
I know that they talk about Infinity like this

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– vertically;
To live forever,
Universe forever existing.

Maybe for being human,
small and powerless,
I think of Infinity like this

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

A duration that does not seem to last
A sort of happiness too happy to be said
In an extensive joy
(Fell like laughing and dancing with everybody)

Ignoring where I end.

This is the infinity where I am
Gift that I give to myself in
unexpected and unforgettable occasions.

Like when yesterday I opened a can of coke
And listened to Bobby Mc Ferrin.

I like to be infinite sideways.

May 14. 2001

I look above:
The infinity of space
Open sky, no borders,
the milky-way,
light-years.

Time is a curve.

I look below:
The earthly time
imprinted in layers of rock.
Time is shades of red,
Going backwards,
Vertically,
Showing me that

I may think that I am
On the top of the world;

But I am actually the
meat
in a sandwich
of infinity.

Pensar no infinito
É não pensar em nada:
Meditação profunda, nobre…
impossível !

Sou humana demais
(e ocidental demais)
para
não pensar em nada.

Tenho uma vaga noção do que se fala
sobre o infinito:
Tudo o que sei é que pensam-no
Assim,

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na vertical:
viver para sempre;
universo desde sempre.

Talvez por ser humana demais,
pequena demais,
impotente demais,
Eu pense no infinito assim
———-

numa duração que não dura
numa felicidade demais pra ser dita
numa alegria extensiva
(vontade de dançar e rir com todo mundo),
na ignorância de onde termino.

Este é o infinito onde sou;
Presente que me dou em ocasiões inesperadas,
inesquecíveis.

Como quando ontem abri uma Coca Cola
e ouvi Bobby McFerrin.
Gosto de ser infinita para os lados.

There are so many things I want to do in my life, still.
When I look at people’s journeys and their ends, I remember my biology and physics classes: entropy wants it all. All goes to chaos. Chaos is the only natural way, and entropy and degeneration is the path. We have brief openings of order, bliss, joy, health. But the arrow points and goes downhill.
So back to my list – life is about forgetting, and how good we forget the downhill trajectory.
I want to 1. take more photos; 2. do fiber arts; 3. play the banjo; 4. hike with my dog; 5. exercise. 6. read good books; 7.watch good films; 8.spend time with my family and friends; 9.see a new place.
Life for me is about all this.

I  just finished watching this documentary:

The “South” refers to Patagonia, where the expedition takes place. “Conquerors of The Useless”  is a pun to “Conquistadores” (by whom the Americas, mainly South America, were conquered), and refers to arriving at the mountain top, and simply turning around and descending. What do you conquer by climbing a mountain? Nothing. But something changes inside you.

180 degrees refers to an interesting interview with one of the climbers, who moved to Patagonia after his first expedition, and spent his life there (he’s now in his seventies). He bought a whole lot of land there just to be able to preserve it.  The documentary questions “development and progress” as our civilization sees it, and focuses on how some civilizations in the past have extinguished themselves just by the exploitation of natural resources in the name of progress.  Seems one of  “those” films, hm? But this is not really a “green” documentary or anything like that (I must admit that when I hear “green” in the U.S., I kind of fret, for “green” became a real industry here today, and I don’t know how much of it is true, and how much is pure money-making hypocrisy…  that said, forgive me for this cynical view).

This film resonated in me because: 1. I have a wish for solitude and the awe that opened spaces present ; and 2. the notion of the 180 degrees explained by one of the explores was unforgettable.

For the climber, when you reach the peak of the mountain, the only way to keep going forward is to turn 180 degrees – and keep going forward (but down).  Here the metaphor is the civilization as we know it – have we reached some “critical point”?  I catch myself thinking about this often. One of the facts that puts me in a reflexive mode is our work journey. I got married, but still I spend more time with my co-workers than with my friends and my husband. If I had not been laid off, I wouldn’t have learned how to cook (a new challenge in my life), and I wouldn’t have spent some vital time in my house, with my books, and connecting with old friends. All of these not only of deep importance to me, but I would say – again – vital.  I feel like I am not being myself, at my full potential, if so many of my deep needs are being ignored by me, although I can almost hear them calling my name every day. According to another film that I saw (“Pi”), which is basically a Jewish production, when you are finally face to face with God, the only question He will ask you is if you have been yourself at her full potential. Like in 2001, when Max, the robot, says that it is fine, because it is “working at full potential”. According to another friend, who was raised Jewish, it is important, too, for that “face-to-face” moment with God, to have accomplished something for the community.

I keep asking myself if I am being myself as much as possible, and sometimes I fear that I am derivative and not fighting for my maximum “marinice”. But money needs to be made, and the house payments don’t have a clue about existential crap. So I live in a world of thoughts and another one of bills – but who doesn’t?

I lost a very dear friend in Brazil almost a month ago. For the first time in my life I understood the deep meaning of rituals – just because I was kept away from them. I felt terribly lonely and longing for old friends in common.  I cried and did my own ritual here, but all I could think of was how much I wish I had called my friend, like I was planning to do, and never did.  I wish I had told him how much I loved him (even though he was a boyfriend in the past, the love I felt for him had transformed but never disappeared).

I am realizing that this is a little catharsis. But with this I wanted to let you, my friends, know that even though life is not eternal, it can be infinite, like our Vinicius (a great Brazilian poet) said.  I like to say that I am infinite “sideways”, because I like to feel life in its vastest way right here, right now, listening to a song I love or kayaking, or whatever gives me the “high” of being very, very alive.  Those key moments when we say “do you know where I would like to be, now? Right here, right now, nowhere in the future or past”.  I will die, everyone around me will, the cities, countries, even someday our species and our planet.  It’s a short trip that we’re all on, and I am honored that I am sharing this little bit with you. Does it look like I am repeating shitty little self-help books here? Screw that!

It occurred to me, after my friend’s death, that I might die unexpectedly, too, soon, who knows. I am not planning on it. But if that happens, I would like to be remembered as a big mess (sometimes depressed, sometimes anxious for more in and from life, and all too passionately – I am a mixture of a Serbian with a Brazilian), but never really giving a shit to people who were too narrow-minded to see how infinite things can be, right here and now. Marina, la loca! – as another friend would put it. Narrow-minded people terrify me and unfortunately my feelings are too transparent. Bhudists would tell me to be compassionate. I am still light-years away of being compassionate of bullies at my workplace.  Of course, this is not a good commercial strategy for myself – but if I could ignore them and bring a little but of joy to a workplace every single day, I would consider this a good accomplishment for my “marinice”. I would like to say also to all of you who are reading this (if you got this far) – that you make a difference in my life. And that you are a good listener.

Who knows if in 500 years the humanity will be different: maybe more spiritual, maybe less inclined to shut ourselves in spaces and our own bubbles of mp3s, computers, and shit that we “need” to buy every day. Maybe we will understand that all there is are interactions and exchanges, all that “fabrics” where we float on. I would like to believe that it’s all inter-connectedness.  All the rest is a flame that consumes itself inexorably, and right now it is beautifully bright.

I don’t know what my conclusion is for real now (I don’t have one! surprised?) – but I am sure that laughter and moments shared play a good role in making each one of us be the maximum of our potential. So thank you my friends for the joy you bring in my life, and sorry for this English-as-a-second language composition. I don’t care, really. Make fun of me, I will laugh, too. Screw you!

Love and peace – and like I like to do – a big HUG to you!

Just to wrap it up, here’s a little “poem” made while at the Grand Canyon with friends – it has to do with Infinity, and it is called…

Sandwich – to the Grand Canyon

I look above:
The infinity of space
Open sky, no borders,
the milky-way,
light-years.

Time is a curve.

I look below:
The earthly time
imprinted in layers of rock.
Time is shades of red,
Going backwards,
Vertically,
Showing me that

I may think that I am
On the top of the world;

But I am actually the
meat
in a sandwich
of infinity.

The next is another little “poem” that I made for a masters class, taught by Ricardo Kubrusly. He gave a course called the “History of Infinity”. He’s a mathematician and one of the most brilliant persons that I have met so far.  His brilliance is intellectual, but also his presence itself is crazy bright!  A dear, crazy, wonderful character and friend. No wonder he approved me with my task to write about the infinity and how I felt it. Here’s a rough translation – you might as well stop here. Go further at your own risk!

Sideways

To think about the infinity

Is to think of nothing:

Deep and noble meditation…

Impossible!

I am much of a human being

(and too western)

to think of nothing.

I have a vague notion of what they say about

the Infinity:

I know that they talk about Infinity like this

|

|

|

– vertically;

To live forever,

Universe forever existing.

Maybe for being human,

too small and powerless,

I think of the Infinity like this

–––––––––––

In a duration that does not last

In a kind of happiness too happy to be said

In an extensive joy

(Fell like laughing and dancing with everybody)

Ignoring where I end.

This is the infinity where I am

Gift that I give to myself in

unexpected and unforgettable occasions.

Like when yesterday I opened a can of coke

And listened to Bobby Mc Ferrin.

I like to be infinite sideways.

May 14. 2001

I look above:
The infinity of space
Open sky, no borders,
the milky-way,
light-years.

Time is a curve.

I look below:
The earthly time
imprinted in layers of rock.
Time is shades of red,
Going backwards,
Vertically,
Showing me that

I may think that I am
On the top of the world;

But I am actually the
meat
in a sandwich
of infinity.