2012 years - Merry Christmas

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This beautiful icon was given to me by my dear mother, on my birthday this year.

"O God of spirits and of all flesh, Who has trampled down Death and overthrown the devil, and given life unto Your world, give, we beseech You, eternal rest to the soul of Your departed servant, in a place of brightness, in a place of verdure, in a place of repose, from whence all pain, sorrow, and sighing, have fled away.

Pardon, we beseech You, every transgression which may have been committed, whether by word or deed or thought. For there is no man who lives and does not commit a sin. You only are without sin, Your righteousness is everlasting, and Your word is the Truth.

For You are the Resurrection, and the Life, and the repose of Your departed servant, O Christ our God, and unto You we ascribe glory, together with eternal the Father, and Your Most Holy, and Good, and Life-giving Spirit, now and forever, and for ages to come." Amen

Trisagion Memorial Prayer for the Departed - for my father, Peter Dixon Woolley, happy birthday.

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"In the maddening swirl of language, we seldom reflect on the meaning of individual words or phrases.  It is not so surprising then, when we pass by even more obscure idioms and metaphors, although this paradoxically does not prevent us from using them again in turn!

One of these phrases is “swan song”, often meaning the last effort or final production coming from someone in his respective field before retirement, or sometimes, death.  This idea has a long pedigree in Western thought.  It first appears in literature in Aeschylus (Agamemnon, 1444), and has not performed its own swan song in our communal imagination since.  The idea behind the myth was that the swan is silent its entire life save the prescience it is granted of its oncoming death, then the swan pours out the first and final charming melodies from its soul.

Socrates himself alludes to this myth, albeit not without commenting on what he sees as its probable origin:

But I seem to you more common than the swans regarding prophecy, which when they sense that it necessary that they die, they sing in the interval before death, indeed, at that time, especially and most beautifully do they sing, rejoicing that they are about to go to the divine, the very thing they serve.  And men, because of their own fear of death, they both slander the swans and they say that the swans lament their death singing because of pain, and they do not consider that no bird sings when in hunger or cold or during any other pain it undergoes, nor does the nightingale, the swallow, nor the hoopoe, which they say laments singing because of its pain.  But these do not appear to me to sing because they are pained, nor do the swans, but I think, since they are prophetic, being from Apollo, and foreknowing the good things in Hades they sing and rejoice during that day more than in the time before.  I myself think I am a co-laborer of the swans and a priest of the same god, and I have the gift of prophecy from my master not worse than theirs, nor do I think I am freed from a life more melancholy than theirs. Phaedo 84e-85b"

from http://www.ancientgreekphilosopher.com/





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Often Rebuked, Yet Always Back Returning

"Often rebuked, yet always back returning
To those first feelings that were born with me,
And leaving busy chase of wealth and learning
For idle dreams of things which cannot be:

To-day, I will seek not the shadowy region;
Its unsustaining vastness waxes drear;
And visions rising, legion after legion,
Bring the unreal world too strangely near.

I'll walk, but not in old heroic traces,
And not in paths of high morality,
And not among the half-distinguished faces,
The clouded forms of long-past history.

I'll walk where my own nature would be leading:
It vexes me to choose another guide:
Where the gray flocks in ferny glens are feeding;
Where the wild wind blows on the mountain side

What have those lonely mountains worth revealing?
More glory and more grief than I can tell:
The earth that wakes one human heart to feeling
Can centre both the worlds of Heaven and Hell."

 Emily Brontë

 South-east mountains - MG - Brazil



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Ilhabela - Full Moon by the Ferry

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“I think there is no suffering greater than what is caused by the doubts of those who want to believe. I know what torment this is, but I can only see it, in myself anyway, as the process by which faith is deepened. A faith that just accepts is a child's faith and all right for children, but eventually you have to grow religiously as every other way, though some never do. 

What people don't realize is how much religion costs. They think faith is a big electric blanket, when of course it is the cross. It is much harder to believe than not to believe. If you fell you can't believe, you must at least do this: keep an open mind. Keep it open toward faith, keep wanting it, keep asking for it, and leave the rest to God.” 

Flannery O'Connor, The Habit of Being




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The Brothers Karamazov

"Fathers and teachers, what is the monk? In the cultivated world the word is nowadays pronounced by some people with a jeer, and by others it is used as a term of abuse, and this contempt for the monk is growing. It is true, alas, it is true, that there are many sluggards, gluttons, profligates, and insolent beggars among monks. Educated people point to these: 'You are idlers, useless members of society, you live on the labor of others, you are shameless beggars.' And yet how many meek and humble monks there are, yearning for solitude and fervent prayer in peace! These are less noticed, or passed over in silence. And how surprised men would be if I were to say that from these meek monks, who yearn for solitary prayer, the salvation of Russia will come perhaps once more! For they are in truth made ready in peace and quiet for the day and the hour, the month and the year. Meanwhile, in their solitude, they keep the image of Christ fair and undefiled, in the purity of God's truth, from the times of the Fathers of old, the Apostles and the martyrs. And when the time comes they will show it to the tottering creeds of the world. That is a great thought. That star will rise out of the East.

That is my view of the monk, and is it false? Is it too proud? Look at the worldly and all who set themselves up above the people of God; has not God's image and His truth been distorted in them? They have science; but in science there is nothing but what is the object of sense. The spiritual world, the higher part of man's being is rejected altogether, dismissed with a sort of triumph, even with hatred. The world has proclaimed the reign of freedom, especially of late, but what do we see in this freedom of theirs? Nothing but slavery and self-destruction! For the world says: 'You have desires and so satisfy them, for you have the same rights as the most rich and powerful. Don't be afraid of satisfying them and even multiply your desires.' That is the modern doctrine of the world. In that they see freedom. And what follows from this right of multiplication of desires? In the rich, isolation and spiritual suicide; in the poor, envy and murder; for they have been given rights, but have not been shown the means of satisfying their wants. They maintain that the world is getting more and more united, more and more bound together in brotherly community, as it overcomes distance and sets thoughts flying through the air.

Alas, put no faith in such a bond of union. Interpreting freedom as the multiplication and rapid satisfaction of desires, men distort their own nature, for many senseless and foolish desires and habits and ridiculous fancies are fostered in them. They live only for mutual envy, for luxury and ostentation."

Fiodor Dostoyevsky

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Tapestry Development Process III

Weaving drawing start

A couple of days latter

Underneath view

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 You can see, or feel, or relate to somehow, some people's insides. And although they keep on saying everything is fine, things are working out, you can't help but noticing it is not. You don't want to pay attention to that whisper, because you truly and forcefully want to believe them.

 It is a different sort of quiet desperation, a resigned one, or perhaps so alien to their strong believe they are in full control over their lives, it's almost as if they were split in the middle.

But what can one do but to offer a warm hand, a hug and prayers? How can one be a good friend?

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Tapestry Development Process II

Applying tension

Tension applied and reapplied

Pedals attached

Reference drawing sewed under warp - sprayed with fixative in order to keep plotter ink from staining the wool (it happened before)

Winding wool

Protective edge and weaving start

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We all long for [Eden], and we are constantly glimpsing it: our whole nature at its best and least corrupted, its gentlest and most humane, is still soaked with the sense of ‘exile’.

J. R. R. Tolkien

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My  mom on her teens

Anda sempre tão unido 

O meu tormento comigo,
Que eu mesmo sou meu perigo.  

                                                                                                                           Luis de Camões
 

James 1:2 

Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds.

The thing is, you have felt God's heavy hand on your face so many times, you went trough such horrors that turned out to make you better, more human, more humble, you start to trust His mercy, even when it's not clear you're acting according to His will, even when it's clear you're not.

Perhaps I should fear Him. I know I should. In fact, I can only fear myself. Day in, day out I have to live with this surprising being that I am, deal with thoughts, hopes, frustrations, physical pains, discomforts, pleasures and numbness, vanity, arrogance, harshness and irritation, sudden mood swings, impulses, regrets, spontaneous and unexpected smiles by a simple thought or sight, nervousness that makes me count all kinds of corners, poles, vehicles tires, windows...

I have to deal with the fact that some days I can walk and some days my legs feel tied to one another. So if I go out, I stumble and am clumsy, the ground does not feel safe. Some days I hardly recognize myself in the mirror, even though I might look better than I thought I was.

There are urges to be alone, to have a nap, urges to cry, to scream, to have a break from your thoughts. Days when the voice is clear, or when it won't come out at all, like someone is strangling you. Urge to be home, urge to be in movement. All so intense I really have to let go of control if I want any social life at all.

If it comes, whatever it comes, deal with it, wherever you are, as calmly as you can.

Crying is easy, you only need a toilet and they are pretty much always at hand. Getting back home is not much of a problem mostly as well.

It only takes courage, lots of courage because you don't usually see people having to deal with themselves in such a way, so you must decide whatever on your own, no use to share such oddities.

And for many moments, you forget that you're alive. You just live and it's all right. You answer e-mails, go through your affairs, eat, play with your dog, work, meet people, talk and talk, laugh yourself to tears, hear music... but that moment comes, when something inside exclaims: Holy Macro! You're alive! What should you do with it?! Is it okay to keep on going like this?! What is expected from you?!

I wake up like that every now and then. Open my eyes and my heart bangs in my ears. It's like having to run from yourself, getting up fast, after a prayer, talking with yourself as loud as emptiness from people around you allow: Shower! Coffee! Cigarette! Work! Courage, my dear, you can do it! It's not a big deal to be alone, you were born that way, you will die that way. The space is huge and you're insignificant in a way, but you're here and it's all right, even though you don't understand at all.

It's only when I start the prayers, only when I reach out for God and my guardian Angel, only then I find energy, strength and courage to go through it all by myself (with Their unconditional company), by my little self, all considered.

Silence is a good method, but it can come out violently.

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My sister just congratulated me for sibling's day. I've never heard before about the existence of such celebration. But here we go, a small homage and blessings.

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A Day for Grand Margarets

"Watch your thoughts for they become words. Watch your words for they become actions. Watch your actions for they become... habits. Watch your habits, for they become your character. And watch your character, for it becomes your destiny! What we think we become."

Margaret Thatcher

"It was this happy feminine conspiracy which made Southern society so pleasant. Women knew that a land where men were contented, uncontradicted and safe in possession of unpunctured vanity was likely to be a very pleasant place for women to live. So, from the cradle to the grave, women strove to make men pleased with themselves, and the satisfied men repaid lavishly with gallantry and adoration. In fact, men willingly gave the ladies everything in the world except credit for having intelligence."

Margaret Mitchell - Gone With the Wind

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Tapestry Development Process I

Distribution of threads

 

Before applying tension

Finalizing reference drawing

90x148cm - Plotter Print

You will find more information about the drawing here.





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"For a long time they will keep their heads raised high,
holding the others down with crushing weight,
no matter how these weep or squirm for shame.           72

Two just men there are, but no one listens,
for pride, envy, avarice are the three sparks
that kindle in men`s hearts and set them burning."          75

With this mournful words came to an end.
But I spoke back: "There's more I want to know;
I beg you to provide me with more facts:                      78

Farinata and Tegghiaio, who were so worthy,
Jacopo Rusticucci, Arrigo, Mosca,
and all the rest so bent on doing good,                          81

where are they? Tell me what's become of them;
one great desire tortures me: to know
whether they taste Heaven's sweetness or Hell's gall."   84 

"They lie below with blacker souls," he said,
"by different sins pushed down to different depths;
if you keep going you may see them all."                       87


Canto VI - Inferno






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Zbigniew Preisner - Van den Budenmayer Concerto en Mi Mineur

They were so many, talking simultaneously, non-stop accusations, pointing fingers... 

I shouted "shut up", and woke myself up with my sleeping voice in the darkness.












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Free Market Uzés

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Father's Day

Geneva - 62

70's ?

Natal - 93

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Dreamed of Freud being devoured by hell's spirits after a motivational speech.
(...)
No, it was in the middle of it.







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