Tag Archives: alcir

by

…a carnaval birth…

The story of his birth during Carnaval, an incredible time in Brasil,
had the doctor watching Samba Schools pass by out the window…
Each Samba School has lots and lots of members, and they each take
their own special time to show their stuff.

The doctor said he would wait until ‘his’ Samba School passed by.
(this confused me, because he had told me a long time ago that
he was born in Honolulu.  Sometimes I have to question his stories…)
“So my fader got his pistol and held it to the doctor’s head and said ..
“Let’s do it Now!”…”

“So what could come from such a beginning?” he puzzled…
“I came out all tangled in the cord around my neck and I looked
like a wreck, my fader said.
One side of my face was all messed up, from how I had laid or som’thing.
My grandmother was there.  When people kept coming by to see me,
she kept putting the good side up”

And then there was the popcorn issue… when I’d first met him, I had
offered him popcorn, a popular food at my house.  His response was
to tell me stories, that when the doctor birthed him, he’d said
“This Baby Cannot Eat Popcorn!”

Actually, I guess several Santerias did tell him that.  He added that
once after he ate some, and he crashed his car or something,
he then decided that was IT.  Never eat popcorn!

He says he’s not drinking, and he’s working out every day.
“I wan’ to look good for you.  I’ve shaved off my beard, I was looking
like Buffalo Bill or som’thing.  I don’ wan’ to look old…”

Martha Stewart just got out of Camp Cupcake, and he commented …
“Martha Stewart is going to rise like a Phoenix… but not just Any
Phoenix…. no…. but one she’s Made Herself!”

We remembered that night on the beach, the July 4th night, and
how he had ambled up to me, and joined me and the girls on that
huge log near the fire.

“How are you?”
“Oh, I don’ know…. new kid on the block”
“What do you want?”
“To be happy…”
“What makes you happy?”
“I don’ know…”
“How’s your spiritual life?”
“Oh it’s going right along I guess…. I don’ know…”

So now I ask … “If I ask you today, what would be your answer?”
and he said he thinks he now knows what makes him happy.
Today he said he is happy when he is on or near water.
I wan’ my boat, to sail anywhere.  To maybe live on it, to make
money with charters, to live minimalistically, no luxuries,
just simple.”
“Vitoria can come with me if she want to, or she can stay with
her mother….”
And me?  I didn’t ask.  I know the answer.  I can come.

He has it in his mind that he wants to make money hunting for
sunken treasure.  By now, I think well….yes, if anyone can…
He has maps of over 70 sunken ships… oh god, I think…here we
go again… Does he ever stop?
Can you imagine?  He’s a world class diver…why not…?
Maybe I can make videos, and we can work with National Geo,
or something….
He says he’ll start by going and picking up what he already Knows
is there…. even Piney is ready to go on That expedition!

This is a man who thinks of himself as alone.  Probably always has,
and he may always…
But he has never had a real partner in his life.  If it’s there, if it’s
as I believe it to be, then will he be able to prioritize it?

Right now, he is saying “It’s a new year, a new beginning,
an’ I wan’ to do things right.”
but he also says…”I’m not going to change…..
and so you just have to find a way to live with who I am.”

 

 

by

…just a note…

For those of you reading this from your email, or
from your Facebook page, may I suggest you move
to my site itself, with a little Click….
…and for a couple reasons.

One, it is Ever So Much More Sexy a Layout on the
Blog page, than on some other makeshift version.

And Two… then I am spurred on by the
Number of Hits on my site.

Dear People….. Writing is solitary work, and
I Need ALL the Encouragement I can get!

Alohas…!

 

 

 

by

…internal journal…

  January 6, 2005

So… the talks we have, long and into the night, are frequented
with lots of booze, but when he’s inebriated, he really talks,
expounds with theories and diatribes, on ethics and commitments,
on his mind set and why.

It’s pretty darned interesting, but it’s also a lot of work.  I feel
exhausted from it, and I’m not quite sure of the whys.
I feel like I need to record this, and that it is important somehow.
But why do I feel this way?

It is important because he is a movie in the making, because his
voice is a broad band of incomparable experience of Maleness
in this world.
.. or am I just puffing it all up with importance…?

You can see the cover of my old journal, and it speaks for itself.
I knew what I was getting in to, yet there was no going back.

Interesting things are occurring in my brain throughout all of this…
First there was the fantasy, the romantic movies that were left in
my storehouse, replayed so many times that I was truly unsure of
what was the truth anymore.

I remember writing quickly, to remember clearly, so as not to distort
it, but still after all this time, I am no longer assured it is the truth.
No one else even knew him, except my daughter Piney a little, and
she adored him.  A couple people MET him, but I know no one else
now who Knew him then.

So as these weeks have passed, I notice the old movies fading, and
a new gathering image formulating before me.   One based on bits
and pieces, gleaned from long conversations, one building upon
another, like pixels filling in the dots to dots, and a new man begins
to emerge before me, in my mind’s eye.

Yet these eyes, which lived to eat up his countenance, these eyes
which were so delightfully pleased with the sensual pleasures of his
physical self…….they are not allowed to be involved in this re-
formulation yet, this complete re-assembling of information.

And now I see the brain attempting to overlay one upon the other,
the  old, or rather Younger Alcir, the iconic hero character who
flashed in and out of my reality…overlayed like images on Velum…
over this new Alcir, the more complex and complete picture of the
man, without the eyes filling in and informing my soul.

These eyes see much, and I depend on them to grant me information
that they grasp on so many levels.  Will they adore what they see,
or will they speak of pain and sadness, and too much to handle?

This other life that I head towards, this being that impacted my orbit
with great explosions and re-adjustments…that in effect changed
some of my life’s directions..  enlarging my horizons, and filled in
spaces by his very existence..can I now integrate him into my
daily life, can I hold it all, and still keep hold of myself?

We are tumbling towards eachother, as surely as stars on trajectory
into a future that holds more explosions and murgings, to
create a new being, a new reality, a new star in the night sky.
What will this star pour out into the universe?
And what is IT’s life about?

This particular evening, after he’s heard I have a ticket,
a date, a plan…
…..after he’s been back in the shadows smoking his cigar,
hiding his hopes…
After spreading himself like jam on my  toast …
with that poem, that said his heart was new and open…
….after the shared heart stories…
….his youthful joy renewed…

He’s been back there, waiting for my true reply, waiting to SEE…
“I want to SEE it”   he’s said, over and over.

So he leaves the phone to pee…and when he comes back,
his voice is insistent…
“One thing just occurred to me…
You’re not Bullshitting me, are you?”

It was a statement, not a question.

 

 

by

…the discovery…

The story that Alcir told me, of how he discovered Who he was,
discovered that he was First and Foremost a loner and a diver…
is actually rather heartbreaking, yet  beautiful at the same time.

“My inner self started when I was 6 years old, and I was drowning
in high seas.   My father trew me in the wader, he watch me as
I tried to stay up, my arms an’ legs grabbing.

I wen’ down, and didn’t come up.  I Loved it.  I went down to the
bottom, and sat in the mud for a long time…. maybe four minutes.
Suddenly I appeared up, with a big smile, and I discovered my life.
All I wanted was to dive.
I discovered who I was…. a loner and a diver. I didn’t need anyone
else to help me, or to tell me who I was.
And that is when I started fighting it.
They…my parents… could never understand why I refused to use
my intelligence, which they said I had.
Two times I broke the world record for deep sea diving.
I went over 75 meters down…
I don’t care that it was not recorded.  I know who I am. ”

 

 

 

I remember he told me once that he went down … i don’t know…
200 meters or something crazy.  When he came back up, the
other guys didn’t believe that he’d gone down all the way to
the sea floor, so he went back down, following the anchor chain,
and brought up some sand from the bottom, just to prove
that he did.  This was a Free Dive.

He claimed he could stay down for many minutes… four or five…
and frankly I doubted his story.  I mean, impossible, right?
Then much later, I saw some nature program, where it talked
about how some people have this rare genetic ability …
and can, indeed, hold their breath for many minutes, and also
endure deep dives.  I had no idea.

“All I wan’ to do is make myself happy.  Society wans people who
wan’ to impress society.  I’m not a monkey… I’m not a circus animal,
that lives to amuse people… I jus’ wanna live my life.”

He got a medal for bravery.  It was in Desert Storm I think.
He carried a buddy on his back to safety, but he was already dead.

“He took 6 or 7 bullets for me”, he told me “but he was already dead.
Actually, he shielded me, but that was not why I carried him.
I never thought of that, I only thought of getting him out of there”

Another war story in Desert Storm… he was sleeping in his tent,
and in the middle of the night, he got up to take a piss… he heard
an explosion.
He looked back, and NO TENT…

He’s been shot 11 times, stabbed 4 times, and something happened
to his face.
“I know,” I told him. ” I can’t believe you’re still alive.  I’m amazed.”

“If You are…imagine me?”  His eyes grew dark and clouded over.
Still, his gaze was intent, as he looked deeply into me, knowing
he was sharing things hidden so deeply within his heart.

“When I am at war, I do not see them as human beings…no…
as a target; I have a perfect concept that they feel the same for me.”

“I don’ wanna die,  I don’ know why.  I don’ care about life or death, but …
somehow, I don’ wanna die”

He told me so many things about himself that night.  My heart is
heavy with the realizations of his youthful pain.  He said at six,
his mother told him he wouldn’t live til he was eight, and every
year she renewed her predictions.

“Why?” I asked.
“Because she didn’t like me.”

He was always in trouble, at home, at school.  And then came the
beatings.
Now today, I realize that he is ADHD.  And these people are usually
extremely intelligent, and in those days they were completely
misunderstood.

And the father story… a life of beatings.  With the belt, with a
piece of wood, with whatever he had in his hand at the time….
…even kicking him, and when he fell to the ground and curled up
in a ball, well then he’d kick him some more.
They both took great pleasure in punishing him in front of others.
Strange, how such terrible deep scarring can direct someone to
such drive, such accomplishment.
I’ve felt for some time that all of this was about proving himself
as a man.  But not to be loved, not to be liked by others.
And he was never accepted or shown love by either parent.

No, it was something deeper.  Proving to Himself that he was
what he Knew himself to be……  Extraordinary.

by

…journal entry december 2004…

“My mind wandered past years of mind games, years of imaging,
and I wondered:  has all this thinking, remembering, replaying
old mind videos made it happen?  Or did I just Know to begin with?
Gazing continually at scenes of Rio, Pao d’Azucar, Corcovado,
Guanabara Bay, the Islands, the Music… and always him in each…
Think of Rio visit, and Always in my mind there’s the thought…
I want him to show it to me.
I want to be with him, and see His Brasil.

The days are getting longer again, and just the thought
makes me smile… Actually the thoughts of more than a few things
make me smile…
Such incredible things to look forward to, such possibilities…
My dear darling crazy Brasilian is down and wounded, and I
wonder why… His left knee is bad, and where did that old injury
come from, which dragon was he slaying?

Haven’t spoken with him in many days, and it actually feels better
to take a break.  The longing festers…
It’s only been 2 weeks since we first spoke, and so much already.
And I must wait 2 months for Passport, 2 months of selling,
2 months of workouts..
Last times I called, he wasn’t in a talking mood. I felt awkward, like
I was irritating him, and that just led to frustration and feelings
of rejection, so I do not call.  He’s in his cave, even though he says
‘call any time you want’…  I want Him to call Me.

So now, for one thing, I realize he lied to me when we were together
before.  He told me he was ‘tirty tree’, but his real birthdate is
four years later.  So he was only 29 when we met!  What a Brat!
A brash and bold, incredible Brat.

Now back to December 8th, his first call:

His questions came fast… Is your hair still long?  Do you still wear
those dresses and long skirts?  You sound the same, he said.
I can see you right now.  I always loved your voice…. he’d never
told me that …

“Yes, I remember the hot tub…” he continued.  “And it wasn’t just
the drugs… we went someplace else.”  (… we had smoked the kind,
but god only knows what else he had done…)
“That was the only time I had Peace.  I could fall asleep with my
head on you, on your lap.  I never did that.
I was drunk most of the time… I was drunk that first night, but
you sobered me up…”

“So….when are you coming to Brasil?  We can listen to Real Brasilian
music, and you can lay down beside me.
I’ll show you the Best of Brasil…”

He told me that after the first email, he had called my old number…
he still had my old shop card, from back in the eighties!
He read off the address, the phone… he’d kept it in a box since
the Legion.  He said it was now a store in town, and
they didn’t know me.
My shop had been called ‘Celestial Dreams’… and up floated the
memory of that time early on, when the phone rang…
“Hello..”
“Hallooo?  eees thees Celestial Dreeeems?”
“….yesss…?”
“Yes….. I’d like to order one celestial dreeeem, pleees….”
(snickers all around)
“Actually,” he added…. I’ll settle for an earthly one…”

So now he continued…  “Right now I am alone.  All the time.  I have a dog.
I swim everyday.  That’s Alone.  I want to get a Boat,
I want to sail and fish. ”   He said he was semi retired,
living on a small pension from the Legion…

“I have no enemies now” he shared.  “And you remember
All my names!  Only my grandmother knows all those names!
And I? ….I remember your taste…. you tasted so good….
…..you tasted like flowers.”

 

 

by

…finding my way to Rio…

Suddenly my life had taken the turn to adventure.  I didn’t even have
a Passport!  The only places outside of the Mainland States that I had
ventured to were Hawaii and Alaska.
Loved Hawaii and could Live there, but Alaska? only wanted to visit.

My time was now laid out… I had 6 weeks to get my act together,
before I left for Rio for a month.
He had set the deadline as February 14th… his Birthday…and so
it was ordained.
I had things to pack and put in storage, for I was staying with one
of my daughters at the time, the one who had secured my ticket….
I had to ensure that my animals were safe and loved for the time,
the Passport App was mailed, and I began making money in earnest.

I am an artist, and have always been fond of a Bohemian life, living
day to day and on Trust.  It has always worked, although there are
drawbacks, to be sure.  Still, my freedom has always come first!
I was happy to learn that US dollars were doubled in Brasil, so that
made everything seem a little easier!

As I was impatiently awaiting the leave, while simultaneously and
quietly freaking out, I continued my ongoing studies of Brasil.

Through the past nearly 20 years since I first met Alcir, the Music has
largely been my passport to the culture, and it allowed me to share in
much of the passion, concern, and vibrations if you will, of Brasil,
and particularly Rio.

I settled on Jobim as my groundwater.  The Carioca accent, the deep
warm voice, full of passionate joy and melancholic nuance.
He was the one to bring Brasil to the US, and his melodies are almost
cliche now…. but no, never trite.
It’s odd, because still a lot of Americans (and I hesitate using that
misnomer, as Alcir would laugh his deep and heartful laugh and
remind me…. “don’ call them Americans!  We’re American too!!)  …

A lot of the US knows the songs if you hum them, but have no idea
of who he is.  They still play “Quiet Nights and Quiet Stars”,
“Meditation”, and of course “Girl from Ipanema” as background…!

As soon as it gets romantic or sexy seductive in a film, here comes
one of the familiars, and I’ve often heard them in the supermarket
(the elevator equivalent these days).

So…. since 1985 it’s been my mission to know just what Brasil was
about, hear the language, feel the voices, and get into the mindset.

Beyond that, it was that incredible Guanabara Bay, with Pao d’Azucar,
the islands, the views of Rio with the Concrete Christ, arms spread
and embracing that dear, ancient city, that mesmerized me.

The populace is as varied as the US in some ways… a mixture of the
Indigenous, the conquering Portuguese, and the Africans they brought
in as slaves.  Fascinating mixtures that creates this race of people
where each face is completely different from the next.
I was intriqued to see that one or the other had lead in the genetic
makeup, with nuance of the others in the back-ground.  Because I’d
lived in Hawaii and saw the same phenomenon, this only continued
the anthropological studies I had begun long ago.

The Indigenous contributed their fierce, wild, free spirit, along with
wonderful instruments and sounds that had worked their way into the
fusion jazz of today…. an area where Brasil excelled with their contribution.
Many of their sounds mimic and include the forest of their origin.

African rhythms are the basis of much that comes out of Brasil, and
the influence in new Jazz directions is obvious.  As well, as in many
other Latin countries, the Africans brought their ancient religion,
there called Macumba and Candomble, as well as Capoeira, the
martial arts practice that will blow your mind!

And lastly, there are the many representatives of so many other
countries who have moved there, run away there, or just somehow
found themselves there… particularly the Japanese and the Germans.
Interestingly enough to me, Everyone speaks Portuguese, which
must be a very unifying happenstance.  But it always provided a
little laugh for me, to see blue eyed Arians and Japanese speaking
Portuguese, and likely with their own accents.

And then the Portuguese.
Maybe I’m wrong, but I’ve felt that they are the Gypsies, the ones
who were out there so many centuries ago, meeting, mixing, mating
and gathering other cultures.   They seem to have brought back many
subtle flavors to mix in, along with the Latin soul and Catholic
mythology that is still so prevalent today.
And I must add here that it has been my experience that the
Portuguese have a superiority complex, and I was to know that
better as I truly met the Real Alcir.

So there I was.  Filling my senses with as much of Brasil that I could.
Learning some Portuguese, understanding the Carioca accent and
style,  (Rio has it’s own regional dialect)… and realizing Rio was
Ancient in so many ways, and with so much history, and learning
more and more about Alcir, and who he Really was, and had become.

 

 

by

…the waiting begins…

Oh my, where was I?  I do leave this Tale of Love from time to time,
for a break in the effort, which is a little arduous, but don’t you find
you can’t wait for the next Chapter?  Good!
As I recall, I was having heart palpitations over the poem sent
to me from Brasil.
Passionate and completely mad, still my girlish heart had been
captured, and the desire to share swept over me til I drowned in it.
Girls just Have to share…

There was one person who could grok the moment, and that was
my daughter Piney.

I was living with her at the time, before, during and after she moved
into a new house in our area of Oregon, and she’d been kept abreast
of the goings-on with him.
She had known him during the times he visited me back in the eighties,
and was quite fond of him.  She found him funny, smart and playful,
and a rather exciting character to a kid.
Sort of like a real life Jack Sparrow, all dashing and full of tall tales
of courage and wild adventures… but not so much eye makeup…

It wasn’t long before I got an email from the little miss… who was
now a bit of an international, as her work (promotion for big companies) lead her to travel.

“Re:   sugar and spice and…GET OFF THE INTERNET!”  read the line,
so I did…
…but only after I read the note:

“hey mom,

trying to call you, you must be on line. give me a call when you
get this e-mail.
i have something to tell you…. something you’ll like….a lot.

love,
-pine”

What she had to tell me would now stop my breath as well…. Great…
now I can’t breath, And my heart has already stopped..

She had Tons of Miles to spare, and offered me a Ticket to Brasil…

Oh Good Grief.  Not only him, but Brasil too?  Completely Unreal.
Brain Overload, tape loops, wake up sweats…

So now the plans began, and I had Two Months to wrap up my life,
get ready for another reality, and of course…loose a few pounds…
I Am a girl after all.
He desperately wanted me to be there for his Birthday…Feb 14th…

He was ecstatic, I swung between several states of mind, but mostly
I worked on bringing my brain to the present, and …..
Just What was this Reality that I had called to myself…?

 

 

by

…a name by anyother…

By now, perhaps you’re getting a sense of that which had accosted me.
I believe most adjectives would fall short, and my heart was set adrift
with both nostalgic yearnings and terrified anticipation.

I fondled the photo he’d sent me. I found scraps of memories in my
journals…
This one still is particularly poignant, from when he wrote out his
full name in his bewitching script… he did it for Piney, but I took
ownership immediately.

I stared at his picture now.  I saw the same man, a different man,
a different world, with twenty years and 14,000 miles between us.
Was this even possible… was I crazy…?

 

 

 

by

…the poem…

After our notes back and forth, I of course sent him my number, and
very soon he called.  I have no remembrance of what we talked of,
just that it was stoney, heady, transporting.

The next day I received this email:

“I will published tonight kisses

Alcir

……………………………

Carol  !


Hear your voice

Made me feel capable of

Fooling the time

Flying around in a dream

Returning to days when life was truthful

And love dare to defy

All mediocrity and nothingness.

That surrounds and kill

The beauty that we can create

When we are living in love !

 

Your words touched my days

Of loneliness and sarcasm

Of cynicism and doubter

Hear you brought me back to a time

When love was solemn

And ruled my believes.

I remembered your taste

And the perfumes of us

Together

As one.

 

Lovers of life

That discovered the fluorescence with in the movements

The beauty in the penetration of intimacy’s

The truth in the orgasm of souls.

I woke up to a dream

And I want desperately to live it as my life

I want you to be real

I  demand you to be the truth of my days

To be the soul that I never had

To be the light in my darkness

To be the love of my life.

 

 

Somebody to relay in the moments of doubt

A comfortable lap in the stormy nights

A truthful north in the dais of lost

A time of peace in a life at war.

Meet me in a timeless world

Were we can be ourselves

Were we are who we are

Were I can be a true man who’s capable to love

A real woman without limitations

Without lies

Free to become the most of our possibilities

Without the smallness

That these days

Impose to our lives.

 

 

I want blindly to be mesmerized

By your touch

By your mouth

By yours censes

By you coming

By your love

Be mine !

Alcir”

……………………….

 

by

…the letters…2004…

“O Senor,” I began….”por favor, send este email a Alcir de
Souza…es Muito Importante, Muito URGENTE!!”

…and I enclosed this note for him to pass on:

“Hello Alcir…
I can’t believe I found you.  I am so happy you are writing.
That is what you said you wanted to do when you called me from Rio.
I REALLY  need to hear from you.
I have gone thru the worst year of my life, and finding you,
no matter the circumstances, is such a blessing.

Please email me, you ShitHead……we need to talk.

Love from your crazy American….Carol”

This was the letter that I sent to the Editor of the site publishing his letters…
…those angry, anguished missiles of exasperation at a government, at
a world, gone mad.
I hoped that the Editor would have the time and the understanding to forward my note, but I really had no idea if he ever would.  There were Hundreds of Authors on this site…

There was no reply….. so I sent it again….

“Bom Dia o Senors e Senoras….
Por favor, send to O Senor Alcir de Souza el email de mia  …. delgaia@yahoo.com  .
Este muito muito importante, este muito URGENTE!…….

Muito obrigada!!……Carol Williams de USA.”

I didn’t know much Portuguese, but I figured he’d figure it out…

And finally he sent me a reply:

“Carol,
Já enviamos seu e-mail para ele  aguarde o contato.
att,
waldomiro”

I Was Ecstatic!

And then I waited…. for Weeks…. and then finally I found the following note WAAAAY back in my emails… His computer date must have been set wrong.

“November 29, 2004
Carol ?
 My delicious Carol, from my youthfull days in northern California, my crazy godess of love for whom i drove many times from Tahoe to the other end of Californiashwazerneger(Sory i couldn resist).
If is really you send me a foto and some private things that only you would know. What i was douing in there? wath car did i drove ? and other more private things .
Send me a return e mail soon.
If is you all my love and kisses !!!
Alcir
See if is realy me the man you think you know !!!!!!”
And the photo, as you can see, was an older but wiser fellow that I still knew.
And then I composed my first letter to him, after so many years….