Tag Archives: brasil

by

… the anniversary …

It was the day they got together… hooked up… did it
for reals … and she always had remembered the day.
It was easy… the Fourth of July.

People joke about it, how getting together with someone
was like the Fourth, skyrockets, all that, but it was that
too… and on the very Day, with the sounds and flashes
still reverberating in the night skies.

That was a long time ago.. 1987… yet it was clear as spring
water on a summer’s day.

It’s 2005, and she called him all day.
It was the first time the date had come around since
they had found eachother again.

She called into the night, but no answer.  The phones
were often out in Brasil, but it was odd that no one
answered for so long.
It was mid morning on the Fifth that he picked up…
he’d not been home that long.

“How Are you?”… his jolly voice barked at her.
“Sad and lonely… not good this week” she drifted off.
“Really?” came the response.  Quiet…

“Where have you been?” she asked quietly, the first thing
on her mind, relief and strange wondering mixing in her.

“Oh, I was checking out a job, I was visiting a friend, I got
a haircut… I Knew it was our Day …blah blah …”
…..the list went on, but she wasn’t hearing the details,
only the tone.  A certain manic thing…

“Listen… I have to tell you.  I wasn’t looking, but I got
a haircut, and I ran into someone I’d known before…
(her heart suddenly went dead)

“well, I don’t have to tell you do I?
I’m not going to apologize.
It meant nothing…

“….Say something…!”

She was without words.  The sounds were there, but nothing
came from her lips.  Her breath came in shallow whispers.
(please allow me to absorb this, she thought, but could not say)

“If you go out and do something to retaliate, it’s over!”…
…he shot back at her over the line.

“It was just sex, tits and ass…”
Quickly he evaporated the subject, and his hurried voice
filled in the hollows.

“I want to buy a ticket for my wife to come here…
I caught a 30# fish, I’m good, you’re gonna be so
proud you chose me…”

Still she could not form words… everything was floating.

“I’m not going to say it was the alcohol or the drugs…
I wanted her, she appealed to me …
I’m being modest here…
I had a hard time.  I decided I needed a reward….

“Do you want to think about it and call me later…?

His voice went on in her ear, she doing her best to just
hear what the words were, and put them away for keeping,
to interpret them later…

“If you don’ wanna speak with me ever again, just let me know…
I’ll pay you back what I owe you.  I’ll sell my car, my watch…”

….”Do you love me?”….

While he waited for her to breath again, he started singing
Lou Reed’s  “Walk on the Wild Side”, and when he got to
…”an’ the colored girls sang do de doo de doo…”,
she almost threw up.

“I can’t do this right now” came out of her mouth instead,
and she hung up.

 

————————–

 

 

by

… time alone …

There are no days of the week, no time to be somewhere,
just waking with the sun, and long invigorating walks.
At home I make jewelry, clear out the jungle, wash
windows, and let the days drift.

Talks with Alcir are sporadic… time zones collapse time into
different worlds… he’s not home when I call, or he’s sleeping
and doesn’t want to talk, or he forgets my number, and calls
my daughter when he’s drunk…
…and she’s getting annoyed with his ramblings.

Sometimes he thinks he’s called me, but he never did…
and I wonder who he did call, because there was no message.

It’s all in a fog, but as usual, just when I drift away, he
comes back with clarity, telling me his deeply amusing
stories, or reminding me of his real self.

His experiences pile up with pain and disillusionment…
His grandfather gave him a house on the coast.
While he was gone, his father took it and sold it.

Another time he gave $30,000 cash to his uncle for
a house in Ibicui….that idyllic place we want to live…
He never got the deed, and now his uncle is selling it again…

Again and again, the knife in the back.  Since he was small,
the public beatings, and humiliations before his extended
family have created such isolation for him, such mistrust
in someone so naturally trusting…. and such disrespect
from the relatives, who used him as the scapegoat of the family.

There was/is  deep inside of him, this pure childlike trust…
a clear sense of what’s right and wrong… a fury at the travesty,
at the viciousness of humanity.
He sees things in such clear terms, as a child…or an indian…
might see them.

He truly doesn’t understand how people behave the way
they do, how anyone can be so untrue to the most basic
elements of kindness and justice.

“When I see stories of slaves being beaten, I think …
…This is nothing.  This is what I go through all my life.
Til one day I stood up and said…. NO MORE !
If you touch me one more time, I will break your neck…
I was 14…. and they never touch me again.

“Beating a slave is one thing… beating someone you
don’t know, who you have no feelings for…
But to beat your own flesh and blood……”
…and he sadly let the memories drift away…

And now, although some of that pure knowing remains
deep inside, he is an island unto himself.

Being one he trusts is an honor and a deep commitment.
I do my best to be clear and true, to remind him of who he
really is inside, beyond the distortion of carnival mirrors
shown to him as a youth, those wavy, untrue reflections.

“The first time I laid eyes …and lips… on you.. oh good lord…
how you changed my life.  I tasted what could be…”
…he told me once again, this time with different words.
“I want to remake myself with what’s inside of you”

I hoped that this desire for rebirthing was true.
And I hoped I could live up to his vision.

—————

by

… the we of it …

The islands have always been good to me.
From the first breath I took when in 1987 I visited for
the first time…flowers suspended in moist clear air…
I knew I was home.  It was the Garden.

The body knew too, and health and peaceful days always
followed me there, even when Hurricane Iniki in 1992
included me, and devastated Kauai…. still it was all a gift.

This time, in the summer of 2005, was no different.
Things fell into place, and the inundation of nature only
proceeded to lead me to the core, to the very soul of my
existence, and my heart, mind and body followed.

By being on my own path, separating myself from the
attachment I was feeling for Alcir and our life together,
my vision cleared, and I knew what I wanted in my life
besides him.
I could see clearly what was him and what was me….
…and isn’t this something that is Always needed
in a relationship?
We All need our Man Cave, so to speak, and it needs to
be OK to want that, and to take that…. for Each of us.

There is no judgement here.  We each have our path, and
things we must do, promises to ourselves that we must keep.
The problem is our expectations, and our programming,
particularly when it comes to relationships.

We have been told that when you are in love, you blend,
merge, combine, and fall into roles that have worked for
millennia….  but is this truth?

Respect for self and other demands the together
AND the Apart…

And because of these histories, teachings, beliefs and
outdated roles, we are caught in guilt and confusion.
The options are not made clear to ourselves, or to society
as a whole, and so we bang our heads against these walls,
while trying against hope to fit between them.

When it doesn’t fit, doesn’t feel good, isn’t working like
we Think it should, it falls apart or blows up.
But shouldn’t we be Creating other ways of being with another?
And shouldn’t this creative endeavor be a Good Thing,
even a commendable one?

This is what I was thinking about, and had been thinking
about for many years.
And this is the gift that the islands gave to me….

Space to create anew…..

 

——————-

 

 

 

 

by

…on writing…

When a writer writes, she writes.
She writes because she has no choice, unless
it is to go mad, or explode…. or implode.

All options not taken….
Art is Art, and when one chooses the path,
turning back only loops around to where
you started, like Pooh in the woods…
and the heffalumps stay ahead just far enough.

There are those who would question motivations,
and I commend them for their attempts at conversation.
But might I be so bold as to suggest that a better way
to encourage exchange of Real information might be
to open with civility, rather than insult.
As well, hiding in the shadows does not Respect engender.

My motivations are mine.
However, they have nothing to do with emptiness
of life, living in the past, or attempts at vengeance.
…each must search the heart for true motivation.

This story is just that… a story, and one worth telling.
It happens to be real, valid, and timeless….
…like oh so many books and movies through the years.

The story is not finished, so it might be best to wait
til the last word, to decide the whats and whys.
And even then, it will be Your truth, not the Artist’s.

I believe it was Abraham Lincoln who said something
about pleasing some all of the time and pleasing
all some of the time….. although I think he was
using the word fool…. but…

You get the point.  Whatever you do, if you are
true to your Truth, there will be those who project
their own dramas and self deceits upon your truth.

But let this not stop you.
Let this not prevent you from speaking Your truth,
for it is Always at Least as Valid as anyone else’s.

With the typical Irony of Life, that is just what this
story is all about…. a man who lives his Truth,
and against all odds, and at great cost.

Lastly, and most especially, let me share with you
my thoughts on sharing your thoughts.
Be Wise.
Do not speak on subjects, about which  you know
little or nothing, for you will gain no ground, and
in the end, only succeed in making yourself foolish.

 

 

by

…the week passes…

After the meltdown over the nameless faceless poem, I go
through days of self doubt, questioning everything,
completely letting go of all sense of control, and begin
once again to face my fears.

I make two lists… pros and cons… and consider the good,
the bad, and the ugly of this relationship I work so hard to
maintain.   Am I trying too hard?
One obvious obstacle is distance.  Our lives are so different,
and that alone makes so much out of sync.
It takes will and determination to stay truly in touch, and on
the same wave length, and it has to come from both sides.

Meanwhile, his reality revolved around a sick and aging Aunt,
who he was feeling very responsible for, and the next time
I called him, he’d had little sleep in four days.
Exhaustion and frustration led him to vent at me for
doubting him…  a bunch of rage came at me.

It seems the poem was something he wrote to Me….
before I ever even Came to Brasil… it was his alter self,
fearing all his feelings would culminate in nothing at all,
with my never showing up, and he would be
left with pain and sorrow.
“You Didn’t Come…”

That was the poem, after all.  And why didn’t he Tell me this?
I have no idea. Was he embarrassed to show his fears?
So I had been allowed to stew away, and for some reason
he had felt the need to test me, I guess…

Not much was really said, and all I could do was to
leave him with…”well…call me when you feel like talking.”

Finally, days later, he left a message at my friend’s saying
“I want to talk with you”, and so once again I called.

“I trust No one,” he tells me.
“I have been alone all my life…
This is the first time in my life that I feel like I could
be with someone that is an Equal.

“I am never away from you…
but then you know, if this thing doesn’t work out,
well, I can get another woman…
…maybe not one of the Caliber of you…
but…I can do that”

He gives, and he takes away…

He was drinking bloody marys, relaxing after the Aunt
had finally gotten better and come home from the hospital.

“I think I’m going to have to bury the bitch” he says…
which means he knows he has to stay and take care of her.
“I just keep seeing my Grandmother cringing.”

His Grandmother had been the one person who loved and
cared for him, and it seems that Aunt Maria and she were….
… Companions.
She had been younger, and the Grandmother and
Grandfather adopted her, and gave her a new life, after
living in complete and utter poverty as a child.

Grandma and she were life companions from there forward,
and I guess Grandpa loved Grandma so much, he went along
with it.  An interesting twist in an already convoluted family…

So when Grandma died, Aunt Maria was just Aunt Maria….
she’d been there many many years, and was part of the family.
She had all of Grandma’s dishes, linens, and kept her altar
with all the sacred icons set up in a closet in her house,
which I was privileged to see.
They still cooked with Grandma’s pots, even though they were
old beat up Aluminum,  scratched and poisoning the food…

She and Alcir had Grandma as this huge and mutual bond
together, and it was the mainstay of their relationship.
The rest of it was quite adversarial, competitive, and
they just loved to argue….constantly.
In some ways, it was as though they were siblings…

They would fight over Grandmas things too…even the
little glass dishes, and the forks that kept going back
and forth between kitchens.

Then he made it clear that he wanted me to come back to Brasil….
but while letting him know I planned to, and soon,
I now had commitments and plans, and also needed to
make money for the next ticket…. he certainly
wasn’t offering to pay for it…

“I’m not a very nice person when I don’t drink,” he complained….
“This is me…. you know this me….
I am still here, but I’m trapped inside this shell of a looser….
I want MYSELF back!”

…and then he added one last touching thing…
“I want to remake myself from what’s inside you!”

 

 

by

…june 13 2005…

Today I face my fears.  Today I face creating money,
being on my own, not knowing what the future holds,
and liking what I have created for myself.

Go towards what opens, leave what closes….

Journal…
Last nite after talking with Alcir, I went on his writers’ site
as he had asked… he thought a virus had perhaps affected it…

And there… 4/26/05…. is a new “erotic poem”.  And
what am i to assume?
Is it about me?  how can it be?  Is it about Her…
…whichever her it might be?

How am I to know?  Yet the title is in Portuguese, and it
will not translate for me, and it seems like it’s either
“You Did Not Come”… or “Don’t  Come”…

It’s some sad poem that talks about never her,
not showing up at all, and never knowing his Love…
but something about not coming…. and
one could easily take that in several ways.

I call him…..  I am confused, as well as potentially angry and jealous.

About all he could offer me was to ask me if I was jealous…
He seems unwilling to give a straight answer, and unable
to just Talk about Anything…
There is no explanation, resolution, or sense made of any of it.

I am left with something akin to everything else right now….
Nothing is sure, and It’s all up to me.

Then I watch a film and I take down a quote…
“God is the principle of simplicity and unity that seems to be
underneath all the complexity at the surface of things.”

I like what i hear…..

…and this is from a group of top scientists and theologians
that had gathered in order to redefine God for the 21st century,
bringing spiritual and scientific value into greater harmony.

and then the Journal …

“She let him go.  He was an aquarian after all…. and what is
anything without freedom…”

This terrible letting go engulfed her, and she realized that
was all she could do.  Let go with Love… because that was
still there with all its prickly holdings.
But letting go of any semblance of Control was the only
path there for her.  It was the high road for both.

Somehow she got in this place, the place of releasing
him and herself from any expectations or obligations…
and then serendipity came along,
and this song kept on going round and round….
..and it was in an Angelina Jolie film she watched,
and it spoke the truth… and as tears fell, she
stood on its ground at that moment.

Love Song

Whenever I’m alone with you,
You make me feel like I am Home again.
Whenever I’m alone with you,
You make me feel like I am Whole again.

However far away,
I will always love you.
However long I stay,
I will always love you.
Whatever words I say,
I will always love you;
I will always love you.

And for a Sexier Version… a newer cover by Adelle…

Whenever I’m alone with you,
You make me feel like I am young again.
Whenever I’m alone with you,
You make me feel like I am fun again.

However far away,
I will always love you.
However long I stay,
I will always love you.
Whatever words I say,
I will always love you;
I will always love you.

Whenever I’m alone with you,
You make me feel like I am Free again.
Whenever I’m alone with you,
You make me feel like I am Clean again.

However far away,
I will always love you.
However long I stay,
I will always love you.
Whatever words I say,
I will always love you;
I will always love you.

 

 

by

…moving along…

On to my next adventure!  It’s time to move to my new
place, and be alone for the first time in three weeks….
something I really enjoy.

I pack lightly, a friend will drive my things to the other
side of the island in a day or two, as weight restrictions
on these interisland flights are limiting.
My friend J meets me, decked out in Fedora and string
tie, looking all island glam, and we pick up where we left
off years ago.  Real friends are like that, aren’t they?

His wife E is on the mainland for a few days, so he and I play
catchup, and he shows me His island life.  The music he shares
is so uplifting and inspirational, very broad based and hip.

Here’s one of his Very Favorites… between Jazz, Classic Rock,
and Alternative stuff I’d never heard, this was the One he
played the most of…
Such an Uplifting Message!


They are staying in a gorgeous, huge place, in the middle of
a papaya farm, with jungle views and distant blues…
They go swimming every day!

He drives his van around the coolest spots, where we swim
in the little lagoons and find the hidden lava pools, where
families gather to embrace the sparkling blue energies from
deep within the island hollows.

We go to a hula show, a Real one at a small bar, with several
members of the same family, all different ages, and the
sweetest voices ever.
My friend has this beautiful awakening to Hawaiian music
and hula, actually grokking its essence and spirituality.
He’s higher than the clouds now, and we are both blissed out.

Alcir called several times, drunk and bummed out about his boat…
or should I say his Not Boat.
One time he’s happy, the next very sad… and what he calls
“Drunk as a Skunk”.
I feel strangely distant, and find myself gaining perspectives
on some of it… at least on the bi-polar aspects of his world.

Journal… Thurs June 9, 2005

“I just begin wondering if it will ever work out.  It all seems so
far away, and he doesn’t seem to be able to break out of his
web of restraints.
I must go on alone, and let things open for me, set up a future
that has no definition.  Shit… I thought alone was done for.
This whole thing seems a little cruel.”

“Can I deal with a drunk who does drugs, hates his mother,
has few friends and major regrets about his life?  That’s a lot.

When he’s straight, he’s Aquarian, cool, controlled, serious
and thought provoking.  He’s brilliant and very sane.

When he’s drunk, he’s funny… then progresses to morbidly
sad and focuses on my ass.  Not really appealing. ”

On Sunday, I will go to the housesitting place, get introduced to
the scene there in Pahoa, and get to know the little animal folk
I will be living with.
The woman will be there a couple days, and then leave for
many weeks.  I’m excited!

 

 

by

…mood music…

So… are you getting there?   …. Are your pots polished?
Are your candles warming?
Do you need just a little more inspiration?

Then enjoy Antonio Carlos Jobim, the guy, the man,
the king of bossa nova,  and also of
>>>>> Brilliant Timing <<<<<
… and beloved by all Brasilians… and the world.

i used to sing this in the band i was in….

i’d sing it in portuguese, and then in english, and I used to
think about singing it to him someday.

and then I got to do just that.
in english and portuguese…
…while we danced.

 

 

by

…shark!…

For some reason right now, this memory has been floating
up the last couple days… It’s dreamy and sunny warmness,
with jolly Brasilians at a party somewhere…

I jump ahead in time, because… I Can… and this memory is
from the second time I visited Alcir and Rio… in 2006.

Likely one reason I am remembering this time, is because
it was one of our good periods, of which there were many;
unfortunately there were a few down times too.

It was February, Carnaval time, such an incredible month in
so many ways.   He was born during Carnaval, so he’s like a kid,
telling me just What he wants to do and get for his Day, which
just happens to be Valentines Day in the US

So Alcir takes me to a party in this most festive of times…..
Well….. except for the Futebol playoffs (soccer), for
Those Are The Biggest Number One Deal in Brasil!!
Brasil has won more World Cups than Any other country.

A friend of his… Mario….I think he was in the classes for his
Captain’s License… was having a house warming for their new
home addition, and so we are off.
And I am very excited to meet some of his friends!

It’s a lovely district, a somewhat new area with streets and homes
more like the US residentials, and we are shown through rooms,
and several floors going upstairs, by him and his lovely woman.

They seem excited to have an American at their party!
It’s so strange to feel exotic in such an exotic land!
But blue eyes are stared at in Brasil.

We arrive at the top floor, which is a rooftop, open to the sky,
with views up and down the street, and a barbeque going.
The party is warmed up, everyone’s drinking icy beers and
munching things from the long table of snacks, chattering away.

And there, at one side… is a large inflatable pool, with a half dozen
children, all happily soaked, bouncing and squealing wildly.

After intros and mostly listening to the beautiful language,
I grow weary of brain stretching, and decide to accept the
invite into the pool.
At first the kids are a tiny bit shy… Brasilians are Not a shy people!..
they eye me with wide smiles, and I begin to splash them… just a
little.  Squeals, giggles, huddlings… and I know they Love it.

It wasn’t long before I started going under the water, and coming
after one or another.  Oh goodness, did they love That!
I was laughing so hard, they were wild and screaming with
abandon, it was glorious fun.

Then they began calling me something…. at first I was puzzled..

I’d been doing the familiar…
“duh duh……..duh duh………Duh Duh…..
Duh! Duh!….Duh! Duh! ….DUH! DUH! DUH! DUH!”….
….the theme from the movie that I guess Everyone knows…
just before I would dip below the water and
come in their direction…

“Tia Tubarao!  Tia Tubarao!!!”  they kept squealing and giggling,
leaping and splashing from one end to the other…

And then Alcir came over….
“They’re calling you Auntie Shark!.  Auntie Shark!” he laughed.

With both enjoyment and surprise in his voice…he exclaimed
“They LIKE you!!

Uh…. ya think??!  Yah!

And so did his friends.  Mario and his lady had children, and had
been together many years, and were now planning a wedding…
They were so adorable, she showing off her ring, and then Mario
got all quietly excited, and in a very conspiratorial manor,
accompanied by a half whispered aside and a couple elbows
in the ribs, (huh? huh?) made this very sweet suggestion:

So…why didn’t WE get married at the same time!
A Double Wedding!  How cute is that.
We just looked at eachother and smiled.
After all, it was Carnaval!