On Secrecy

“I am going to show you something, but you have to promise you won’t tell anybody about this, ok?”

As a rule, this is what children are told right before being sexually abused. Take it from me, these words are the doorway to any abusive relationship, anytime of your life.

Demanding secret from somebody is demanding them to trust you blindly and not trusting them in return. This verticalization of a relationship, no matter how good the intention is (and I do believe the intention can be the best of all), will ruin the many levels of confidence and wilful surrender necessary for an exchange that goes both ways and is beneficial for both ends, the 1+ 1 = 3 type. Demanding secrecy makes the exchange go one way only, and the receiving end very often, experience teaches, gets burnt, overwhelmed and close to hallucinated, due to lacking a way to alleviate or share the burden.

It shouldn’t surprise me that behind so many closed doors and within many institutions—no matter how they disguise themselves as a group of friends hanging our for beer—abuse takes place and reigns as a quotidian rite. As I write this, I have a specific institution in mind, but really, any other institution will do. As varied as the nature of institutions, so is the nature of abuse. Why do they act surprised when they hear stories of sexual abuse within their (un)fairground?

I am currently working through another book by one of my very favourite Craft authors, Marian Green. In ‘Magic for the Aquarian Age’, Green states that we are living times that demand autonomy, self-sufficiency and ability to manage knowledge in a fashion that could be considered individualistic in the Piscean Age. Green wrote this book in the early 80s, as I toddled. It’s not that the other way is resisting change, but letting go of self-importance is probably really hard when you are on top.

To a Starry Sky

Among my many insights I had I 2006, I discovered New Year wishes messages are but revealing to other what you wish for yourself. Naturally, not many people wish the same, but we all could use specific blessings to help us get our very intimate, personal and idiosyncratic blessings and wishes.

My new year wish to you is simple: I wish the Smoke on your Mirror dissipates and reveals to you how feeble, useless and self-destructive grandiose, clique mentality, dependency and silly games are for a Shining Star like you. I wish you strength to stare and thirst for the Truth that is revealed just before you, when you clear your eyes and dive in the crystal clarity of your true Self. And see the Beauty that is there.

And as you look in your reflection, may you see the Unity that brings you together with All-That-Is. May you mirror their worth, Power and Beauty, discovering how worthy, powerful and beautiful you are yourself, how connected you are, or should be, and how much work there is to do (with)in you.

May you understand, have fun, heal and join likeminded Stars everywhere. You are your own source of light. You don’t need anybody else. But the Beauty of the Starry Night is the myriad of twinkling Light Sources, all individual and unique. But woven together by the Black Void that holds the Web together, She is the source of the Power, the Beauty and—perhaps the greatest gift of God—the Diversity that amazes and inspires.

May you find your light, and radiate it everywhere. The world needs it.

In Lake'ch. As the other you, I wish you a great new calendar year, whenever your Cycle starts.

With love,
Awen

Image: ‘The Starry Sky’ by Dutch genious Vincent Van Gogh

I've been a good boy

Year after year, xmas is a painful experience for at least many of us. You already expect it to be tiring, frustrating, demanding and overly compromising, so you either resign and surrender, expecting emotional lapidation, or build up armor all around yourself, freezing and denying life for at least a couple of days. But sooner or later in your life, you begin to know better, and understand the way of the Crossroads; you decide to just turn around the corner, shifting your focus and working on something else.

This year, I had some fabulous stuff going on in the wondrous world behind my eyes, and I was not alone in there. No matter how lonely I felt in the late-night turkey meal I didn’t eat.

On December 24th, 2006, I came a lot closer to buying my flight to be with my EEP, did some excellent readings with my coven and programmed a fabulous New Calendar Year. On December 25th, 2006, I tuned my fiddle all by myself for the first time, discovered a great new field for exploration called Geobiology, and began for good a great new application for Mind Map technique, fully devoted to self-awareness and opening the channels of the magical mind.

With a Vision and the right attitude, everyday is a great door that opens.

Green Ink

One of the workshops I take at Casa das Rosas is a very hands-on group of poetry writing. It is called, roughly translated, ‘Poetic Drafts’, and every Saturday afternoon, several poems (or images, or quotes, or something triggering for the poet in us all) serves to inspire the group for a round of poems. In every meeting an average of three or four rounds of poems with their respective triggering some things happen.

Quite common is the practice of drawing from what we call ‘Bag of Drafts’ a batch with twenty copies of a triggering something for the next round. Yesterday, the whole afternoon (four rounds) were based on what some of us in the workshop drew from the Bag. Obviously, this element of Divination can be a powerfully enlightening experience for the whole group, if approached with some awareness. And specifically yesterday, the element Death was the topic in the first three rounds.

I was fascinated to see how Death and endings were elements so hegemonic in the last meeting we had this year. When we finished reading the poems for the third round, I suggested that for the last topic of the day, after all the severance, letting-go, purgation, casting-off, expelling and burying, we did a poem on the New Year Resolutions. Sounded natural: new beginnings after Death. That was the Goddess’ Triple Will, after all. I really like the New Year current, even though I am a pagan, and for me the time for new beginnings is in the Winter Solstice (six months later, here in Southern Hemisphere). The New Year’s Eve is to me a powerful day for all kinds of magic you want to do. You get so many people vibrant with sheer Power and Joy, focused on a vision, and raising Energy is so easy and natural that not using that opportunity due to ideologies and a separatist attitude is downright stupid.

Obviously, the reaction I got was unsupportive, however amicable. The group was in another momentum—maybe Summer Solstice, when the Sun God sacrifices Him Self so that we may live? Maybe I was not the only pagan there! But the most interesting was the reactions I got from people; the first person to manifest after my silence was the facilitator. He said New Year Resolutions was not interesting enough to write a poem on. Mind you, that was the same person who every Saturday gets us to write poems on all kinds of random topics, apparently sterile for imagination. Then, an outspoken girl said her poem on the NYR would be a blank paper. The best writer in the group said it was an interesting idea to give a poetic dimension to the New Year Resolution thang, but she was not clear what were hers. Then a retired old lady to my left whispered to me with a heartbreakingly tiny smile on her hard face, ‘With a government like ours, we cannot have resolutions good enough to write poems on, can we?’

Then, as a consolation prize I guess, the facilitator asked me to draw from the Bag of Drafts, and we all wrote the last round on a metapoem by Mario Quintana with the image of a poet sitting by the window, writing in green ink and watching weathercocks.
Honestly, I am all against ‘Poetic Drafts’ becoming a therapeutic group, and definitely I don’t want to force my ideas on other writers, but why not using Poetry to clear the way for something good to come? Maybe it’s the helpless witch in me wanting to use the group setting to cast a collective spell, but why not giving a try to writing on writing down good things, adding Energy to them, focusing on them?

Probably I was right. The strong element of Divination that is present in ‘Poetic Drafts’ evinces what everybody is up to: sitting by the window, writing a poem on another poem on writing a poem, and watching weathercocks (or their own lives, for that matter) go round and round.

Call me fluff bunny, but I’d rather use the Power in there for another cause.

As I walk the Beauty Way

It’s very much true that we usually don’t realize our many blessings. Only now, a month and a half later, I am actually using my time more wisely. And by that I don’t mean I am getting stuff done, learning facts and honing skills, or going to places, or just daydreaming more. Actually, all these are part of the process and a natural consequence of being wise, but by ‘wisely’ I mean that I am living free of guilt.

Much of my downtime lately has been invested in remembering how all my lifetime my old people and my tutors have tried to grow an Awen seed into a somebody-else tree. How much money they spend, how much emotional terror they created and especially how many chimeras they fed in over 20 years, in the vain hope of seeing one day a plastic illusion sold in soap operas manifest before their (bindfolded) eyes.

I have been scalp-deep involved in heavy personal alchemy lately. Labyrinth, readings, Vision Quests, Morning Pages and other writing (or mind-mapping). All of this has helped me heal, and see with enough clarity to set my feet firmly in the Beauty Way.

I wonder if the reader of my blog finds its tone too sugary or just sheer new-agey white-light hogwash. Maybe without understanding what walking in Beauty and treading the Sacred Path is, all the things I have been talking about lately is downright nonsense, possibly even self-dellusion, but they are very important to me. For the Awen seed to grow into an Awen tree, things need to be said, written, published, told, sung, performed, acted out, done and presented. That is the Sacred Way of Beauty for (and in) me, and I have spent too long denying it. Maybe long enough trying to retrieve my right to walking it also, but all the time in the world is worth investing if the reward is knowing where your feet are carrying you to, and thanking everyday for every step taken and every inch in the Way ahead.

Today I am back to my regular Saturday Poetry workshops in my beloved Casa das Rosas. I wish you are walking in Beauty this weekend, too.

The Road Ahead

I’m quite enjoying my life now. I am living on the financial support Brazilian government gives to unemployed people during a few months, and meanwhile, I am learning Mind Maps and EFL teaching techniques to start my new career next year. Many aspects of this opportunity with TEFL excite me.

First of all, it’s in perfect timing with the New Year Resolutions thing. Many people use the New Year tide to take important decisions and motivate themselves to manifest positive conscious changes in their lives. Many times, these resolutions include learning a foreign language, and obviously English is the most sought foreign language these days.

Also, there is a great freedom and space for creativity and autonomy in teaching languages. I won’t have to stay nine hours a day locked in a depressing cubicle, and I won’t have to give up all great opportunities to have master classes or workshops, neither will I have to reduce my fiddle or singing study hours because of a stupid day job. I know the income with one-to-one TEFL is fickle, but for now, I can deal with that; and even if I have to wear three-piece suits, it’ll pay off, ‘cos within I’ll be feeling as free and authentic in my professional life as I haven’t done in many years now.

Moreover, one of my competitive advantages as an EFL teacher will be Tony Buzan’s Mind Maps, a great tool for note-taking, learning and brainstorming that increases considerably the student’s memory, learning curve and brain power. I’ve been playing with Mind Maps for some time now, and I’m having a blast.

On top of that, in preparing classes, I’ll perfect my skill even more. The teacher learns from the student, everybody knows that, but he also learns from preparing to teach the student. I wouldn’t be surprised if one of these days ‘research’ proved that the teacher actually learns more than the student!

Finally, teaching a language is a great exercise in understanding human beings. Verbal language is part of our singularity as a species, and coaching somebody in this faculty gives privileged insight on the definition of a human being and in envisioning a higher ground of it.

I am sending some really positive vibes to this knew project. Even if this doesn’t work out well, I will have at least tried once in my life to support myself with something that sincerely enthusiasts me, and pays me with much more than money.

Image: “Olho” (Eye), by my ex-Stupid Day Job colleague Luciano Daie.

A perspective

[written last night]

Here, at the Crossroads, the feeling is as delightful as the last stage before being actually overwhelmed. Ah, possibilities!

I stand where two roads meet. They come from different places, and head off in radically diverging directions. The first road, broad and trodden by many, is tempting and deceiving. It will lead me to wake up very early tomorrow, shave my already half-sliced face, use strange creams in my hair and dress up like somebody else, for a job interview at Siemens. People would kill for an opportunity to work as a translator for Siemens. I just think I won’t kill my Self in that corporate concentration camp. Not again.

It’s half an hour to the Witching Hour, and I am wide awake, happy, and with my eyes firmly set on the other Road. This road is narrow and has no signals, no footsteps indicating the way to go. But I will not be alone along it.

Furthermore, I have trodden the first Road before, and didn’t do me any good. Now, I’m for the first time ever, going with my Vision. That’s what I need. I already have enough training, enough personal alchemy, and enough resources. Now I need to honour them and act on Faith.

To draw even more Power from this moment and make it last, I am renaming my blog, from ‘A Divo’s Errands’ to ‘The Book of the Crossroads’.

So that you know where to meet me.

Moon Lodge Days

Since my EEP returned to his country, I have been reading Jamie Sams’ Sacred Path Cards every day. At first, the card that showed most often was the Moon Lodge, meaning retirement. Funny (and disturbing) how these cards are always on target for me.

All the retirement I have been doing lately has taught me a lot. Since I moved to São Paulo almost two years ago, I had been finding ways to avoid retirement and loneliness. In this restless and 24-7 metropolis, there is always something to do, somewhere to explore, some goal to meet; which is the radical opposite of my old life in Rio, where I used to waste all my free time (all my time, really) immersed in the Internet and books in order to fill the scandalous vacancy of meaning, affection, activity and magic. But when arriving in São Paulo, I was for the first time ever all by myself, living all alone, and didn’t want to face the pain of radical loneliness, so until this month I had never spent more than four hours all by myself at home. I was always outside, in a workshop, party, lan-house, performance, course, event, lecture, poetry slam or, well, a Stupid Day Job.

But lately, more forced by need than inspired by the Moon Lodge card to be honest, I have been spending more time with my Self, honing my skills and discovering new horizons, inner and outer. I am learning new teaching tools and learning techniques for my new breadwinning project, teaching English as a Foreign Language one to one; also, I am studying the fiddle really hard, as I really want to pass the audition for the intermediate level next month/year; and I am back to training Scrying, which like most wannabe scryers, I dumped a couple of days after noticing the first little progress, back in ‘03.

My power animal is the Butterfly. For a long time now, I have been consciously burying and rebirthing myself several times, and this has been another moment for the caterpillar to cocoon, getting ready for the next big leap, across the Atlantic and over the Equator.

Circles and Crossroads

They constitute a labyrinth. As is my personal inclination, privilege, curse and addiction, I have been meandering many labyrinths since I last wrote an entry to this blog. Possibly instead, I have been meandering only one. But really the number of labyrinths meandered matters nothing, since the path always leads to the omnipresent Center of nowhereness.

Labyrinths are an ancient symbol of the Goddess of a Thousand Names and have been a tool for introspection, self-discovery, meditation and deep healing for time enough to create an egregore over it.

The Labyrinth inspired egregious Mexican filmmaker Guillermo del Toro to tell the outstanding story of an Underworld princess trapped in the flesh of a mortal surface-dweller who must complete dreadful tasks to regain her royal birthrights and reclaim her palace with seven concentric patios. She is led to the next challenge, and taught how to overcome it, by a magical book called Book of the Crossroads, which only reveals to her its contents when she is all alone.

During the painful months I stayed far from my blogging activity I realized that ‘A Divo’s Errands’ is my personal Book of Crossroads. Or at least, part of it. So much has happened over the past few months, and I resent not being able to share the fresh news with my peers—be they passers-by, detractors, fans, flirts or friends.

In a nutshell, I have been playing my fiddle a lot, experimenting with Thai cuisine, training my musical ear, studying the German language, and spending heaven-flavored five weeks with my European Enchanted Prince. I had the blessing of spending almost a week in Buenos Aires, and the even higher blessing of losing the depressing job that I used to let hold me captive for thirteen hours of my daily waking life. The greatest synchronicity is that my EEP arrived in Brazil on October 28th, and on October 30th I was fired, what give me the precious gift of spending his five-week vacation in South America with his most lovely company.

I now have very limited Internet access, but I have set up a computer in my flat, to do freelance translation work. From this computer, I can write my blog entries, and then when I have Internet access available to me, I can upload the text for your reading pleasure.

I will try to catch up with all of you guys. Thank you for the patience, for leaving messages even when I was away, and for holding me in your loving thoughts. You are my treasure.

I’ll keep riding.

To Those Who Wait

Good things come.

Here's FINALLY my singing recorded online. I know I'm not José Carreras yet, but quoting Diane, I've got to start somewhere!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nV1nEWMsD1c

Encouraging feedback totally appreciated. Even if you have to lie to encourage me. In the long haul, I will become good! Many, many thanks and hugs to my fabulous fellow Fool and video artist Catt for making the wicked images and uploading my stuff for me.

Catt, we made quite a partnership, huh??

PS> My access to Tribe.net from the office is forbidden. But don't worry, I'm gonna find a way to keep in touch with you all--Bunnies, Snakes and Bitches!!

Anybody passing by

Last night I coerced myself to have some cognitive refreshment despite physical exhaustion, and went to watch the celebrated, wild-eyed German-English performance 'Super Night Shot'. It's a one-of-a-kind show, intending to be the 'War Against Anonymity', in which four performers (last night we had three dogs and one bitch) create a crazy four-screen video in the theatre neighbourhoods while we, the audience, are on our way to the theatre.

It's really an interesting concept. You arrive at the theatre and you are supposed to wait outside. Then the four semi-naked performers arrive, and we are instructed to cheer their arrival really loud, through conffeti, ribbons and waving sparkling sticks, while men in tiny trunks and a woman in bathing suit arrive, covered in sweat and recording our noise with a digital camera each. Then we wait for a signal and we all enter the theatre, where four screens show what is meant to be the actual performance, with great DJ'ing. At the end of the performance, you see yourself, tossing the waves and waving your sparklers. Very funny and innovative, even though it looks extremely MTV-ish in some moments.

In last night show, the hero's mission was finding an unemployed mother of five kids a job. He couldn't find it. Still, don't blame for letting the videos pluck a string in my inner harp. It's really nice to see in such a raw language how each of us could make a positive difference for each other by our actions and words just with our intention.

Bottom line is: we matter. Each of us. For each and every other.

You can read more on 'Super Night Shot' here: http://www.gobsquad.com/gobsquad/currentsubpage.php?id_project=4

Where's the Surprise?

You are the Fool card. The Fool fearlessly begins the journey into the unknown. To do this, he does not regard the world he knows as firm and fixed. He has a seemingly reckless disregard for obstacles. In the Ryder-Waite deck, he is seen stepping off a cliff with his gaze on the sky, and a rainbow is there to catch him. In order to explore and expand, one must disregard convention and conformity. Those in the throes of convention look at the unconventional, non-conformist personality and think What a fool. They lack the point of view to understand The Fool's actions. But The Fool has roots in tradition as one who is closest to the spirit world. In many tribal cultures, those born with strange and unusual character traits were held in awe. Shamans were people who could see visions and go on journeys that we now label hallucinations and schizophrenia. Those with physical differences had experience and knowledge that the average person could not understand. The Fool is God. The number of the card is zero, which when drawn is a perfect circle. This circle represents both emptiness and infinity. The Fool is not shackled by mountains and valleys or by his physical body. He does not accept the appearance of cliff and air as being distinct or real. Image from: Mary DeLave.

What Tarot Card Are You?

How Inspiration Works

It all started in some lazy August saturday morning. Enjoying the rare priviledge of staying in bed until late, I felt like listening to my favourite symphony, Gustav Mahler's 'Das Lied von der Erde' ('the Song of the Earth'), which is basically a cycle of six songs written for tenor and contralto (or baritone) and orchestra. It's particularly encouraging that my favourite symphony was written for my vocal classification, but the most interesting aspect behind 'Das Lied von der Erde' is that, being written in the Vienna of early 20th century, it was largely influenced by the (back then) mysterious universe of China. Mahler used translations of six Taoist poems in the libretto of what is considered his Materpiece.

I had listened to 'Das Lied' before, but just like with 'Riverdance' in the same month, the month of Folklore in Brazil, this time the music set me off on a very interesting journey, which included learning the German language and reading the Tao Te Ching.

This month, here in the day job, they moved me to another department. I will probably be doing the same old things--writing, proofreading, translating, doing contents maintenance for the website--, but I'm under a different manager now. A Taoist. I have been practicing the doing-by-non-doing and the empty cup attitude here in the office, and uncovering a few wonders lately.

Last night, it was the last day of the level two Storytelling workshop. Everybody performed and received five-minute-or-so individual feedback from the workshop facilitators. I told a Danish folk tale, 'The Lazy Boy', and for the first time ever, I challenged myself to tell it sitting down, instead of floating all over the space. I grounded really firm, and it was brilliant of me to do that, because I found a way around my worst difficulty in technique. Many other storytellers had the same difficulty, and they weren't as clever as I, so one of the facilitators in the feedback part suggested Tai Chi Chuan for that particular aspect of storytelling technique, which she calls 'keeping the feet on the ground'.

From all sides, the Tao is calling me.

Image: Annamaria Ducaton's 'Presenze', inspired by 'Das Lied von der Erde'.

Presence is the axis of good storytelling technique.

Pagan Pride Day '06

We had a big time.

I opened the afternoon, telling the stories of Thomas Rhymer and Tom Goat Skin. The first is a story about a Scottish bard who takes the Third Road to Faerie and serves the Faerie Queen for seven years, then returns, misses Faerie and comes back. The second is a strong and witty Irish lad who wins a melancholic Princess' heart by making her laugh three times and overcoming two triple challenges. Between the two stories, I sang the old Irish ballad 'Down By the Salley Gardens', with lyrics written by my adored William B. Yeats. I also dedicated the Goat Skin story to my deceased friend Arthur Netto, who passed on 15th, after trying so hard to recover from anonymous spanking for almost a month. Arthur was a great actor and an inspired writer, and left a huge circle friends, most of them pagans, all artists.

My singing was pretty well. Just before heading off to Páteo do Collegio, where the celebrations would take place, I trained the song with my vocal coach, she tempered and polished my performance and I was convinced I would break everybody's heart with that magnificent, haunting melody. But naturally, being my first time singing in public, I did less than one third of what she told me. That damn old companion of mine, Anxiety. But after the performance everybody told me it was so beautiful. The fact that I sang acappella in a country totally unused to acappella singing didn't produce any negative impact, it seems.

After my performance, Marisa told the story of Eostre (her favourite version), and then there was a dance performance and the drama group performed a play about Ancient Gods waking up from a long sleep and Gaia suffering abuse from Humankind. The dance show was really cool: six female dancers represented a Pagan Goddess each. First was a belly dancer for Hestia, then a Cloak dance for Isis, then three Hindu dancers in a WICKED trio for Durga, Kali and Parvati, followed by a Nipo-Brazilian embodying Amaterasu, entirely gilded, geisha-like make-up and dancing with golden fans. The crown jewel of the performance was my ex-coven sister Shakti performing Inanna and dropping her seven veils to represent the Oldest Known Myth on our stage. I took a very noble part in this show, too: between the individual performances, I collected the veils they dropped and positioned the candles and props for each dancer. Well, I couldn't be the Divo twice the same day; plus somebody had to do the job!

Then came the Ostara ritual. It was already very later afte the long Creative Shower, so Claudiney Prietto (the organizer of the event and High Priest of the Ceremony) kept the ritual quite short. We use an auditorium owned by the municipality, so there was a deadline to return it--clean and tidy again.

After the ritual, in the merry-part thingy, a couple of girls I didn't know approached me and mentioned they loved the two stories. They didn't tell anything about the singing, so I just thanked and shut up. :)

Last night, I went to watch a live opera for the first time. It was an adaptation of Shakespeare's 'the Tempest' by a Brazilian composer. My favourite play by my favourite playwright. Their Caliban was the usual goat and their Ariel was the usual blue bird, which was a bit disappointing. Why can't people create new Calibans and new Ariels? Oh well, but they were great singers (Caliban a baritone and Ariel a mezzo-soprano), and Prospero was a real virtuoso! The ending speech Prospero gives in the play, addressing to the audience, asking for forgiveness, surrendering his Powers and musing about Life became a superb aria. Too bad it was written for baritone voice. I'd love to try singing it and having it in my personal repertoire!

How was everybody else's Pagan Pride Day?

It's me, me, ME!

I thought I owed you some update.

Hm, ok, I don't owe you anything, but I'm givin' it to you anyway.

- Remember the choir I failed to join a couple of months ago? My vocal coach is an old friend of the choir's vocal coach, and last Saturday she got me a chance to join it. I went to watch the rehearsal last Saturday, and I had no idea it was the same choir. Well, I went there, watched the rehearsal, got my ears profoundly hurt due to the total lack of pitch from the choir and left half an hour before the rehearsal was over (when my second audition was supposed to take place), feeling really good that I failed to join it in July. Well, it turns out that everything happens for the best!

- I've got my Brazilian passport. Now I can go to Spain without needing even a visa for 90 days. If I'm lucky enough to get my Italian citizenship before moving, I'll be able to stay there forevermore.

- Tomorrow we're having huge and beautiful Pagan Pride Day (+Ostara) celebrations. And because I'm the local bard-en-vogue, I'll be performing. I'm telling two stories and for the first time ever I'll sing in public. Let's see what they think of my vocal gifts! If everything fails, well, I can always go back to my narrative gifts! (which, truth be told, everybody loves)

Here's the official website of the São Paulo Pagan Pride Day.

I'll try to see if Claudiney has pics of my previous performances to send to me. Since you won't fly to Sampa overnight, visit the site. My name's there. In bold. (I promise I didn't ask them to do that--but I don't need to pretend I'm embarassed or to hide it like it's a bad thing)

Avast!

Ahoy, me crew! 'Dis a most special day!

September 19th - Talk Like a Pirate Day!

www.talklikeapirate.com/piratehome.html

Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaagh!

Philadelphia Wonders

Last night I went to the Theatre to watch a fabulous play, 'Bent' written by Philadelphia playwright David Sherman (now living in London). The play is on the condition of Berlin homosexuals on the days of Hitler and his Gestapo. The cast was just BRILLIANT. I hear there is a movie made with that script, with Mick Jagger doing the drag queen, which was played by a classical singing baritone last night, but I didn't find it anywhere up to now. I'll be looking when my manager lays his eyes somewhere else other than my screen.

And now I check my emails and come across another wonder from Diane's city: Bianca Ryan

Philadelphia has a lot to offer the world!

The Seven Fours Tag-game

Tagged by Diane! (shouldn't you be in your Reading Deprivation, Di?)

Four jobs I have had in my life:
1. Radio Presenter and Producer
2. Trainee reporter in a small newspaper
3. English-as-Foreign-Language teacher
4. Airport Agent (But never again!)

Four Movies I have watched over and over:
1. Spiceworld (Well, I've been 16 once!)
2. Fight Club
3. Labyrinth
4. Legend

Four places where I have lived:
1. Duque de Caxias, RJ
2. São Paulo, SP
3.
4.

(Sorry, but before moving to Sampa my life was really colourless)

Four TV shows I love to watch:
1. Spongebob Squarepants
2. The Simpsons
3. Pinky and the Brain
4. Any other Warner Bros old school cartoons, especially Looney and Tiny Toon.

Four places I have been on vacation:
1. Bom Jardim, RJ
2. Ouro Preto, MG
3. Petrópolis, RJ
4. Araruama, RJ

Four of my favorite foods:
1. Chocolate
2. Michelangelo (risotto with funghi, tomatti secchi and ruccula)
3. Margherita pizza
4. A Chilean baked dish made with mashed corn and vegetables

Four Places I'd rather be:
1. Madrid
2. London
3. Skellig (see photo)
4. Iona

Four people I'm tagging to continue this game in their blogs:
1. Synnöve
2. Laura (Any of the three! Whoever picks this first and agrees to join the fun)
3. Aster
4. Sue Silverstream

(the rule is simple: answer these same questions above in an entry on your blog.)

Sun Screen

Remind yourself over and over again:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EbAM6dCWE58

Rave on!

Artistic Dung

My wacky office colleague and favourite fag hag Simone likes saying that when you do dung, you dung your life. Saint Julia says that creative growth is spasmodic in nature and you cannot guarantee you will do greatly everytime. 'Sometimes you will draw badly, dance badly, write badly, perform badly, and you need that to get to the Otherside', she wrote.

I'm currently trying to shove that into my stubborn, peacock-vain mind after performing so badly last night, in the second meeting of the storytellers' intermediate workshop. The assignment was to tell a story in three minutes. Because I had no time to prepare a short story over the weekend, I decided I'd pare down the rich details of the Irish traditional tale 'the Black Horse', a story I told very well last month (check the photos in my album) and squeeze the basic structure in a three-minute narrative. I ended up sounding anxious, insecure and too worried, and the story lost much of its brilliance because the riddles and the repetitions, so important to the rythmn, were left out.

I cannot have it all absolutely fantastic every time. Expecting that is just unfair with me. I deserve support from myself, and now I need to hang on, trusting the importance of my work.

Also, I need to cherish the fact that the Dung Beetles, the usual arseholes who just cum everytime you fail to meet useless 'standards', are back in Rio, far from me.

Image: Chris Ofili's 'Black Madonna'

Twenty Questions

1. Do we know each other outside of Tribe?
2. What's your philosophy on life?
3. Would you have my back in a fight?
4. Would you keep a secret from me if you thought it was in my best interest?
5. What is your favorite memory of us?
6. Would you give me a kidney?
7. Tell me one odd/interesting fact about you:
8. Would you take care of me when I'm sick?
9. Can we get together and make a cake?
10. Have you heard any rumors of me lately?
11. Do you/have you talk(ed) crap about me?
12. Do you think I'm a good person?
13. Would you drive across country with me?
14. Do you think I'd get along with your family?
15. If you could change anything about me, would you?
16. What do you wear to sleep?
17. Would you come over for no reason just to hang out?
18. Would you go on a date with me if I asked you?
19. If I only had one day to live, what would we do together?
20. Will you post this so I can fill it out for you?

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

It's not even nine a.m. yet and I'm deeply bored in this stupid day job. I still have one whole fucking day ahead and to think of that just mortifies me.

The plan is to work really hard and intense with the Law of Attraction and Creative Recovery and at some point get a life I love and crave to live.

Possessions

I don't need to struggle for all the riches on Earth. It's all mine anyway, as long as I let it all free. All I need will come to me.

With my European Enchanted Prince, my Creative Toys and the right state of mind, I have it all.

The Workshop

Just a quick note to say that last night the Storytelling workshop meeting was really like water on parched lips!

we talked about what defines a storyteller, the presence, immediate contact, artistry, how each storyteller interferes and recreates the original story and how far can the spoken word go within the listener's core. We had fun games to learn each other's names and each of us introduced ourselves as storytellers in one minute. Quite a challenge! I managed to tell them about my work with the Pagan Community, the tellings at Trianon, my previous basic-level workshops and my struggles with the fiddle. After the one-minute bell rang, I cheated and told them I'm a singer. :)

I've got six more meetings ahead, and I'm sure as one can be that this workshop will catapult me to another level. Everybody there was a professional, so I'll get to do lots of networking too.

Photo: Dan 'the Divo' Yashinsky telling stories.

Oh the movies

I am enlisting Johnny Depp in my Hall of Creative Champions. What is it that none of the films this guy works in is bad? It's official, now, he'll serve as an inspiration for my career.

Last Saturday I finally managed to watch 'Pirates of the Caribbean 2'. Much better than the first, which was already a blast. Highly recommended. Yesterday, I watched 'Breakfast on Pluto', an Irish-British 2005 independent production telling the story of an transvestite who moves to London to find his mother and origins. Very moving, with a great message and an even greater soundtrack.

I'm slowly recovering my cinephile habits. For some times in my late teens I used to go to the cinema about four times a week. And tonight, I'm starting on my intermediate level storytelling workshop!

Way to go, Awen!!

Nine Years Later

I apologise for the second blog entry in a day, but I have the best news one could have: Lady Brighid of the Fire's Avatar is back. Loreena McKennitt is releasing a new album with inedit songs this year!!

See this: www.quinlanroad.com/ecard/ecard-eng.html

Now share the joyful news!

(Photo: Loreena performing live last year @Edmonton Folk Fest)

Samba de Roda

Last night I attended a Samba de Roda session. Samba de Roda is very different to what I had in my native land, although it is also very Brazilian in flavour. People who do Samba de Roda, which is usually from Bahia, call carioca Samba 'Samba Urbano', which I am not quite familiar with or a fan of, either. So, it was an entirely novel experience for me.

In Samba de Roda, there is a circle of people with one bass drum improvising (like in Italian Renaissance Music style called 'Basso Ostinato') and a tambourine (a very Gallician instrument that became a symbol of Brazilian folk music), but participants mainly clap their hands in a syncopated 2/2 or 4/4 rythmn and one lead singer sings a line and everybody else 'responds'-- all lyrics and melody are already previously rehearsed and memorized, though. We had a traditional Samba de Roda leader coming all the way from Bahia (the Recôncavo Baiano area, a buried treasure chest of African-American Folklore), Nêga, with a powerful contralto voice and that exquisite coloratura typical of black people. In every song, one person steps forward to the centre of the circle and dances, waves, mimes somebody, do something with their bodies. There is still a very strong focus on spontaneity, which is made possible by very strict ettiquete and standards everybody is expected to meet.

For example, one lead singer leads alone the whole song and everybody else only responds, and most of the time only one person is allowed in the center of the circle, and if two people go, it must be a heterosexual couple. I can imagine the sexiest women in the circle could all go together, but the Samba scene is naturally very homophobic, and two men together for them is a fight. This is the most heterosexist continent on Earth, after all.

I was called to the centre of the circle, the third person to be called, and I was really appalled, and couldn't think of anything to do. I was embarassed for not being able to clap in the rythmn, but I couldn't put my hands down either, so I just clapped in the second beat of the compass and the rest of the time I would wave my hands in front of my chili-red face, protecting it from all those strangers full of expertise. A 'Pulp Fiction' reference. Thanks again, Tarantino! Then, when the circle was already hot and everybody felt more at ease, I was called again and I did things with my arms I learnt from Michael Flatley and my Odissi lesson last month. I'm sure I looked pretty gringo, but I had a good time, anyway.

It was a kind of Artist Date, the solitary expedition to unknown lands without expectations. I failed to clap my hands in the steady rythmn they had for each song during most of the 2-hour session, and by the end I was honestly tired of the repetitive themes and melodic lines. Too many descendant thirds and references to sea tides and fishing.

I can't help imagining my boyfriend there, all excited. He's a huge enthusiast of Samba, and those two hours would be a taste of Heaven for him.

In time: I was approved for a VERY important Intermediate Storytellers' Workshop yesterday!! I'm very excited about this, and can't wait for Monday, when the classes start. The workshop (which comprises four evening meetings) is taught by Meninas do Conto, an awesome storytelling group who taught me my first basic storytelling workshop last year. They rock, and so do I (especially one month from here)!

Storytellingwise, things are flowing so smooth that I can't help concluding that I was born to do this and a Higher Power wants me to walk that Path!

Brighid

Again, a fabulous weekend. Why do we have to come back to the office on Monday? Not fair.

Casa das Rosas is active again after the midyear break. I am taking a course on composing and translating poetry, and the Saturday afternoon workshop called 'Poetic Drafts'. Very cool, because I really missed the habit of writing without the conditioning and the castration of corporate duties I have to meet here at the office. Also back from holidays came my asskicking vocal coach, and to our excitement my voice did not get rusty after the break and for yet another class, I surprised her singing the Renaissance air 'Caro Mio Ben'.

At Saturday night, I managed to attend to this year's Catalan Art show here in Sampa. I watched two films, the comedy 'Seres Queridos' and the teen homoerotic drama 'Krámpak'. Both were really intense, as Catalan stuff usually is. I especially love when I get the chance to watch films about gay relationships. I don't have to make extra efforts to get involved with the plot, and I absorb the story better. Too bad I couldn't get to this year's poetry recital. Well, there's always next year, and next year I'll be in Madrid by August!

On Sunday I was late for a choir concert downtown, and went to the grocery. You know, we can't feed only the Spirit. An artist also eats. I also went roaming over my area to check which films were in theatres, and I planned to watch 'Pirates of the Caribbean 2' later on that evening. Then I went to the lan-house to talk to my European Enchanted Prince, and by some Divine Providence my pagan buddy DeLeo was online at MSn messenger. were it not for him, I'd have missed a powerful Brighid ritual by Claudiney Prietto, a fervorous Brighidine. The climax of the weekend happened there: when we were greeting each other for the occasion, Clau told me, 'May you be inspired, because if you are inpired, we will all be'. How cool is that? The High Priest of São Paulo pagan community greeting me as the bard of the community.

And I remembered how the whole Wheel Year comes back to Midwinter. In my experience.

May I be strong, wise and humble to keep the flame burning.

PS> The photos of my last month's performance at PnT are already in my photo album. Check them, and leave a comment!

As my ECP suggested

Last night I started my fiddle classes again after the midyear holidays. On my way!!

Photo: a Riverdance moment.

Seven Years Later

I decided yesterday I'm going to wear my pentacle pendant. I've had it on since then.

I started wearing a Pentacle, a tradition symbol of the Craft of the Wise back in 1999, and stopped using it in 2003. This weekend I was in Rio and intuition struck me to use it again, with the same silver necklace I used to wear.

My pentacle is silver, with lots of scraps and black stains, which makes it very ancient-looking, maybe something a battle mage has worn in the battlefield. Unlike many witches' pentacles, mine has a solid background, also made of Silver with a black antiquing to make the silver star in the foreground stand out. It's tiny, which makes it really evident.

In 2001 a boyfriend put on my pentacle. He was involved in the Teen Masonry and many other occult organizations activities, and felt dizzy when he put on my necklace back then. Good sign.

I couldn't find a photo that was similar to my pentacle online. You'll have to imagine it.

August is on the threshold. I'll be looking for a studio to record my singing soon.

'Warm with a Mystery / I may reveal to you / In Time'

It's becoming increasingly easier to spend some time in Rio. Emotionally speaking, naturally. I arrived earlier this morning after a night bus ride, had a shower (a VERTICAL one, not the diagonal irritating shit I get in Sampa) and after eating mom's food, talked to mom about the general hardness of everyday housewife life, watched my beloved 'Riverdance' DVD, ate more mammafood and went straight to bed for a nap. I realised it's been many months, probably over a year since I last had sleep during the day. The sleep of the just. I not just needed it, but also deserved it, and that was something I just wasn't able to afford in Sampa lately. And also it had been over a year since I had last watched my favourite DVD (I own the official recording they made for the worldwide audience, the one filmed in Genova in 2002. Alas, not the original version with the Divo of Irish tap Michael Flatley, nor Anúna singing, not even my favourite piper, Davy Spillane--neither the current Boyne nor Foyle troupes! But it was a cool troupe nonetheless).

Sounds like I am assimilating the story of that show. How come we always get the right story we need to hear? In the last act of Riverdance, that narrator with a delicious gaelic accent talks about learning to live in a foreign land and discovering that any and everywhere all rivers flow to the Sea, and we are all under the same Sun and same Moon. That perked up some ears this time around that the same lines had never done before. Then the last dance number, the best performance Michael Flatley's new substitute Breandan Ní Gallaí rendered the whole show, starts with the narrator telling how the children of the Irish who moved to the New World felt Ireland 'familiar yet strange'.

Again, the question: What brings us the right story at the right time? Dan Yashinsky called It the 'Storykeeper'. What do you call it?

To Sever the Bond

http://www.sorrygottago.com/

A year with Theo

'Theos' is God in Ancient Greek. But Theo is also the name of a wise terrier character my guru's sister, Elizabeth Cameron-Evans, created to represent what she refers to as 'what happens when you try to shoehorn someone creative into corporate life'. Therefore, Theo is also me.

Yesterday morning I turned the last page of Julia Cameron's 'the Artist's Date Book', a book with 365 pages, one for each day of 'a Year of Creativity', each with one of Theo's witty cartoons illustrating one of 'the Artist's Way' principles and ideas, space to write whatever we wanted, a tick box for Morning Pages done and a a suggestion for a cool Artist Date. I had been reading (and playing with) about one page a day for the past year, and Theo proved to be the best company I could have. Theo rocks, and transformed me.

Unfortunately, I found no pic of Theo in the Internet. Too bad, I really wanted you to see him. I'm sure you'd be in love.

Anyway, is the book is highly recommended for anybody seeking to lighten up, renovate the Faith in the Path and reboost the Creative Spirit. The world definetely could use more of that.

Survival

The blueprint of a sustained creative career, to paraphrase Julia Cameron, is surviving loss. And last night I lost a creative toy. That is, I failed in an audition for a choir.

I could just get around the superficial layer or frustration by giving reasons why I didn't pass the audition, or actually what in my lyric tenor voice made the coach insecure, but I just cannot afford this for the long haul. Justifying oneself, as I learnt the hard way, is a rundown vice.

I am fine the way I am and I trust the Great Creator I am given all the opportunities I need to blossom and achieve Creative fulfilment.

Also, I've just climbed back to the office from my very important part I did for the World Jump Day i the sidewalk.

Did you jump today??

Before I forget

I was waiting for Angela and Laura to send me the fucking pics of me performing at PnT/SP last Sunday, but up to now, nothing. Well, I'm gonna tell what I remember of it because I don't want to forget.

(Because I am writing this on Wednesday, after two murderingly boring office days, I have lost much of my enthusiasm. Anyways, next time I'll know better and use what I have. Just doing it will do. As Julia Cameron asks, 'if you didn't have to do it perfectly, what would you do?' I'd do, period.)

Well, people loved me. Everylittle bit of it. I was introduced as 'somebody who can make you cry and laugh at once' and I really appreciated that. I'm now using interaction on my telling. The first of the three stories I chose was an Irish traditional tale called 'the Black Horse', and in it the main character, the rider of the Black Horse, would sigh everytime the Underwater Prince challenged him and I asked everybody to sigh. Then the Black Horse would go on a journey, and everybody would make the sound of galloping horse with their hands on their thighs. A happy end for the tale, with that very interesting plot twist the Ancient Celts were masters in doing, made everybody even more excited. Not bad, considering it was the very first time I told that story.

The other two tales I told were the Scottish classic Tam Lin, a hit in the São Paulo Pagan Community, and the lovely Hans Christian Andersen's 'The Pine Tree', which I planned to tell last Midwinter at the public ritual downtown, but had no time left to. This time I had much more control over the whole performance and there was enough time.

I'm getting good at it.

Also, before the performance, I went to fabulous classical singing recital my vocal coach gave me an entrance to. She performed there (now she's what I call DIVA!) and all singers were really fabulous, seemingly in the top of their vocal form. The recital was a homage to Antonio Lotti, a virtuoso tenor who abruptously passed on one or two months ago, and all singers were students and ex-students of him. Listening to them, I'm sorry I didn't get the chance to study with il Signore Lotti!

And on Saturday I went to a beautiful wedding ceremony and party deep in the woods north of São Paulo (Cantareira), and then had my last singing lesson before my coach went on her two-weeks holidays. Now I'm practicing my sight-singing at home everynight, and when she returns from the trip in August, I'll benefit much more from our classes.

If the girls send the pics of the performance, I'll definetely upload them to my photo album. Keep an eye on me! :)

World Jump Day

It's tomorrow!!

This is my generation's chance to change a fact that has been considered unchangeable for the past billions of years. Let's get together and do something VERY easy to help with the Global Warming and other environmental issues.

Check when that's gonna happen in your timezone. Here in the office we're already arranging a field trip downstairs :)

www.worldjumpday.org/

Excitement

I'm very excited today. I'm on the verge of a quite promising weekend. On Sunday I'll be performing as a storyteller again, for an all pagan audience. It's a monthly event we have here in Sampa called PnT. There used to be PnT in Rio as well, and I was one of the organizers there, but since I moved to Sampa PnT is history there. In PnT, we get together in a large picnic in a park or woods, chatter, gossip, have a soiree, watch a lecture and do something cool as a group. This month, I'll be the something cool, a storyteller! :)

Since watching 'The Secret', I am inspired to refine more my skills with the Law of Attraction, and I started reading Deepak Chopra's 'the Way of the Wizard', which has twenty lessons on groundbreaking Metaphysics which include Conscious Creation, a/k/a using the Law of Attraction to deliberately manifest the experiences and circumstances you want. It's the second time I read this book, and I've taken lesson four this morning. I already feel SO GOOD -- and THAT is what matters regarding 'the Secret'!

Last night, a major achievement as a student of classical singing: I sight-sang two songs, the theme from 'Starlight Express', by Andrew Lloyd Weber and the Irish traditional 'She Moved Through the Fair'. All by myself, no help from my teacher or anybody else. I still need the aid of my keyboard, but for somebody diagnosed as a 'tone-deaf' person just seven months ago, that's quite a FEAT!! And there's more to come.

And last month, I started a strict financial planning system which has helped me save some pretty good money. That's fabulous because I'm gonna need all money I can for Madrid next year.

The best, though, is yet to come.

There goes my hope of being a slick old fag when I'm 60...

Says Rob Brezsny this week for us Pisceans:

'The dance called the waltz is regarded as schmaltzy, but it was originally the punk music of its era. After its first appearance in England in 1816, an editorial in The Times called it obscene, a dance worthy only of prostitutes, because of its "voluptuous intertwining of the limbs and close compressure on the bodies." Religious authorities in Europe thought it was vulgar and sinful. My prediction is that you're currently entertaining a new trend that will have a history not unlike that of the waltz. It may cause a ruckus in the beginning, but will eventually become the pinnacle of normalcy.'

My Tree Self

***You Are A Lime Tree***

You are intelligent, hard working, and innately successful.
You try to change what you can in life - and you accept what you can't change.
Tough on the outside, you are actually soft and relenting.
Jealous at times, you are extremely loyal and giving to those you love.
You have many talents, but you don't have enough time to use them.

This Lime-Tree Bower my Prison, by S. T. Coleridge
ADDRESSED TO CHARLES LAMB, OF THE INDIA HOUSE, LONDON

Well, they are gone, and here must I remain,
This lime-tree bower my prison ! I have lost
Beauties and feelings, such as would have been
Most sweet to my remembrance even when age
Had dimm'd mine eyes to blindness ! They, meanwhile,
Friends, whom I never more may meet again,
On springy heath, along the hill-top edge,
Wander in gladness, and wind down, perchance,
To that still roaring dell, of which I told ;
The roaring dell, o'erwooded, narrow, deep,
And only speckled by the mid-day sun ;
Where its slim trunk the ash from rock to rock
Flings arching like a bridge ;--that branchless ash,
Unsunn'd and damp, whose few poor yellow leaves
Ne'er tremble in the gale, yet tremble still,
Fann'd by the water-fall ! and there my friends
Behold the dark green file of long lank weeds,
That all at once (a most fantastic sight !)
Still nod and drip beneath the dripping edge
Of the blue clay-stone.

Now, my friends emerge
Beneath the wide wide Heaven--and view again
The many-steepled tract magnificent
Of hilly fields and meadows, and the sea,
With some fair bark, perhaps, whose sails light up
The slip of smooth clear blue betwixt two Isles
Of purple shadow ! Yes ! they wander on
In gladness all ; but thou, methinks, most glad,
My gentle-hearted Charles ! for thou hast pined
And hunger'd after Nature, many a year,
In the great City pent, winning thy way
With sad yet patient soul, through evil and pain
And strange calamity ! Ah ! slowly sink
Behind the western ridge, thou glorious Sun !
Shine in the slant beams of the sinking orb,
Ye purple heath-flowers ! richlier burn, ye clouds !
Live in the yellow light, ye distant groves !
And kindle, thou blue Ocean ! So my friend
Struck with deep joy may stand, as I have stood,
Silent with swimming sense ; yea, gazing round
On the wide landscape, gaze till all doth seem
Less gross than bodily ; and of such hues
As veil the Almighty Spirit, when yet he makes
Spirits perceive his presence.
A delight
Comes sudden on my heart, and I am glad
As I myself were there ! Nor in this bower,
This little lime-tree bower, have I not mark'd
Much that has sooth'd me. Pale beneath the blaze
Hung the transparent foliage ; and I watch'd
Some broad and sunny leaf, and lov'd to see
The shadow of the leaf and stem above
Dappling its sunshine ! And that walnut-tree
Was richly ting'd, and a deep radiance lay
Full on the ancient ivy, which usurps
Those fronting elms, and now, with blackest mass
Makes their dark branches gleam a lighter hue
Through the late twilight : and though now the bat
Wheels silent by, and not a swallow twitters,
Yet still the solitary humble-bee
Sings in the bean-flower ! Henceforth I shall know
That Nature ne'er deserts the wise and pure ;
No plot so narrow, be but Nature there,
No waste so vacant, but may well employ
Each faculty of sense, and keep the heart
Awake to Love and Beauty ! and sometimes
'Tis well to be bereft of promis'd good,
That we may lift the soul, and contemplate
With lively joy the joys we cannot share.
My gentle-hearted Charles ! when the last rook
Beat its straight path across the dusky air
Homewards, I blest it ! deeming its black wing
(Now a dim speck, now vanishing in light)
Had cross'd the mighty Orb's dilated glory,
While thou stood'st gazing ; or, when all was still,
Flew creeking o'er thy head, and had a charm
For thee, my gentle-hearted Charles, to whom
No sound is dissonant which tells of Life.


What's Your Celtic Horoscope?
http://www.blogthings.com/whatsyourceltichoroscopequiz/

Experiencing Odissi

Last Friday night I tried an Indian Dance class at SESC. Just awesome.

Even though Indian Dance (especially the variety called 'Odissi', the one I tried) is naturally very difficult to anyone raised in Latin America, due to the total lack of movement with the hips and lots of focus on hands, head and eyes, I did VERY well. I managed to follow about 60-70% of the steps and moves. Considering it was my first dance lesson EVER, I did VERY well.

The teacher told me after the class that I have 'a way' for Odissi, and that she could feel that I was enjoying it 'inside'. I told her I had never taken a dance class in my life, and I usually did pretty bad in dancing in public, and she said that this was good, because I was free from vices. I could hear what she was saying because in Brazil most 'traditional' dances use hip swings. Something I always sucked at.

I don't know if I'll continue on the Odissi lessons. If I do, I'll have to give up on the fiddle--which I would have already done if I didn't have invested money in purchasing my fiddle last month (failing to pass for the intermediate group this term was a major demotivation for me). I don't have time or money (or stamina) for both it and Odissi.

Suggestions?

SuperVal Says

“If you are not getting any support at all for what you're doing, and you have examined your motives and done Kala on it, and still feel that this is your path, be brave and realize that sometimes you won't get any outer confirmation at all during your lifetime. That's not important. Pay no attention to that man behind the curtain. It's not about you, it's about the work.” (Valerie Walker, ‘Thirteen Magical Secrets About the Practice of Feri’)

For some years now, she has been a reference for me. Probably, the closest thing I have to a spiritual role model. Wise, humble, fun and willing to share. Every proof of spiritual leadership, magical mastery and religious bliss is featured in her, plus authentic British Humour.

Check her website: http://www.wiggage.com/

The Secret, Again

Oh, I finally did it, folks! I watched the whole 'the Secret' feature, five to ten minutes a day. In the end of the film, it gets even cooler, because I becomes what a film should actually be about: photography, images, movement, music and sensations.

The link I had posted here on my blog last month was removed from Google before I could watch it the first time, but I managed to find another link to watch it online, thanks to Yahoogroups ;)

I'm not publishing the link here because I fear Google will remove it again in case they're aware the film is online, but if personal friends want it, just send me a private message, and I'll gladly share. I want the video to stay online because we people who don't live in the US and Canada aren't able to watch the DVD in our Region Code. Latin America has the same code as Oceania, Code 4, and the website, http://www.thesecret.tv/ (highly recommended, full of FREE conscious creation treats!) states clearly that the film is 'temporary unavailable to that Continent. And Europe, where I'm moving to next year, isn't Code 1 either. As I've told a couple of my friends, it's a downright shame that the more technology we have to connect us, the more ways we devise to bring us apart.

Anyways, those who can buy AND WATCH the DVD are encouraged to do so! I will as soon as it is available in either Code 2 or 4.

Meanwhile, we have the website, full of great stuff, especially stories and two eBooks: http://www.thesecret.tv/ . Recommended.

How Stars are Made

Sounds like I'm getting big.

Last night I went wandering downtown seemingly for no special reason, and I met two witch-friends somewhere along Avenida Paulista. One of them was at the performance I gave at Solstice, and with a wide smile she said I told the story she needed to hear on that occasion (Rhiannon's). The other witch asked, 'so you were the storyteller at Yule?', and it's not hard to imagine I was very proud to say 'Yeah, it was me!' The word was spreading to my favour!

The one who watched me congratulated me for my performance and told her companion I did very well. And then two invitations came, first to perform at EAB (Encontro Anual de Bruxos--the same event that three years ago brought Macha Nightmare to Sampa) by the end of this month, which I had to decline due to the International Storytelling Symposium, which will happen in my native Rio on the same weekend. Then, the one who heard-say about my performance told me she's putting a pagan soiree together, and I'll perform there. SO COOL.

Also, there's the performance I have booked for this month's PnT, a monthly pagan get-together in Nature with picnic, a lecture and other activities, on 16th. I used to organize the carioca PnT when I lived in Rio.

Indeed, with Midwinter a working artist was born!

Tag Game Again

This time Laura (from Snakes Rising) tagged me to list five places I'd rather be than here. Here are they:

1) MADRID!! With my European Charming Prince.
2) Buenos Aires, with my European Charming Prince.
3) London. All by my Self!!
4) In my warm, cozy bed in this cold Winter morning. With my European Charming Prince.
5) On stage. Any stage. With an asskicking band.

Tagging Sue Silverstream, Joelle, John the NYC Boy, Laura Love, Prayoga, Bunni Lover

Superhero

You are Spider-Man

You are intelligent, witty,
a bit geeky and have great
power and responsibility.

Spider-Man 85%
Green Lantern 85%
Wonder Woman 78%
The Flash 75%
Hulk 75%
Supergirl 68%
Catwoman 60%
Robin 55%
Batman 55%
Iron Man 55%
Superman 40%

Click here to take the "Which Superhero are you?" quiz... www.seabreezecomputers.com/superhero

The Two Faces of Awen

My friend Prayoga revealed two not-so-hidden aspects of me: According to him, an extra-terrestrial and a South American warrior. Enjoy.

A Mid Winter's Song

MID WINTER'S NIGHT

(First verse: Traditional Provençal song
Rest of the Song: Candice Night/Ritchie Blackmore)

Maire, lei campagno gansaion
A questo nue, balin-balan,
Leis avé, lei fedo sounation
D`ounte vén agéu sagan?
Lou gat sauto dins la paniero,
Medor gingouelo dins lei champ,
E lei gárri dins la feniero,
Barruelon coume de bregand!

The bells are a ringing
On Mid Winter's Night
The moon sets all alone
And once again I try to sleep before the morning light

Too soon the sun will come a-calling over the hills in our little town
Too soon the snow will start falling over the worls without a sound
While in my room dreams are a-fleeting
I close my eyes one more time
All too quickly the dawn is breaking and I must leave the night behind.

The bells are a ringing
On Mid Winter's Night
The moon sets all alone
And once again I try to sleep before the morning light

The bells are a ringing
On Mid Winter's Night
The moon sets all alone
And once again I try to sleep before the morning light
And once again I try to sleep before the morning light
Before the morning light
Before the morning light

(featured in Blackmore's Night third album, 'Fires at Midnight' with a delightful bagpipes solo)