y o u a r e l u c k y i f y o u g e t t o s l e e p o n a f r i d a y n i g h t i n S ã o P a u l o .
y o u a r e l u c k y i f y o u g e t t o s l e e p o n a f r i d a y n i g h t i n S ã o P a u l o . w e d o n ' t e v e n k n o w w h a t e a t i n g m e a n s .
e s s e n e g o c i o d e F E I J O A D A é d o m e u p a i , e d o s e u p a i , e d o m e u p a i .
M i n h a s m ã o s s ã o c o m o c e b o l a s f e i x a d a s , a b e r t a s p r o m u n d o c o m o r a i z e s .
Scenes from project "Cosmic Connections // Parallel Perspectives" (upcoming installation). Part II of experimental footage film within film within film- one face/body projected upon another face/body upon another. More to come in the following weeks!
*
Cenas do projeto "Conexões Cósmicas / / Perspectivas paralelas" (installação). Parte II dos experimentos filmes dentro do filmes dentro do filmes + rostos / corpos projetados sobre rostos/corpos etc. Mais para vir durante as procimas semanas! . . .
Scenas
t h e t r u t h i s
i l o v e t o h a t e y o u d u r i n g t h e d a y
Life. What now- What name will I give you? What will I call out in times of need, times of despair,
What will I utter in moments of ecstasy?
You've brought me this far with your feverish weekends of guilty pleasures & that vicious cycle of addictive desires Striking mornings, stormy nights, foggy afternoons
You are cloudy water in a plastic bottle, hidden faces, grabby hands & more the white ring we all kiss with our noses in the air our noses to the ground You want to drench me but I'm already so wet I'm on cloud 9 when you try to drag me down & when you punish me I gain so much more & when you give me consequences I grow so much more & when you test me you nurture my soul Clenching sheets, a thirst for living amongst words with double-meanings, a never-ending play on perspectives The fairy tale ending with credits rolling over sweaty thighs & the agonizing heat between the legs Exchanging hidden glances that find each other in the midst of bodies, hesitant smiles
You offer me a million fetishes served on gold platters & anything more is glamorous & out of reach Purgatory is where the devils whores play chess with desperate handcuffed fools I don't know where heaven is I don't know where heaven is I don't know where heaven is
((( An exploration of modern-day cosmic connections ))) . . . A sneak peek into the imagery, visual poetry & experimental audio of the upcoming mixed media installation . . .
As ruas de São Paulo optaram por me incluir em suas peculiaridades
Streets of São Paulo have chosen to let me in on their little quirks
O que antigamente se definia como território proibido para os fracos e os estrangeiros Agora torna-se a estrada de tijolos amarelos para o destino (everchanging) Entre nós dois nada- Não há paredes nem corpos não quilômetros de carros Apenas os fios invisíveis que apito baixinho através do labirinto urbano Amarrando-nos ao longo de algum tipo de h a r m o n i a desajustada O cheiro sutil do lixo de São Paulo não sabe competir com a ilusão
What was once forbidden territory for the weak & the foreign Now becomes the yellow brick road to the (everchanging) fate Between the two of us nothing- No walls no bodies no miles of city cars Just the invisible strings that whistle quietly through the urban maze Stringing us along in some sort of m i s f i t harmony mal-a d j u s t e d The subtle São Paulo garbage scent cannot fight the illusion
Eu sou unida com tudo ao meu redor, sei la porque eu sorrio Na loja de discos Pelos arruaceiros e os lábios pegajosos das T-rex A loja da esquina onde as cowboys de botas rosas & suas coxas peludas Se esticam por tesão e fome do papel verde que os mantém
& Você, uma visão, girando
I am one with all around me, beats me why I smile At the record shop By the hoodlums & the lip-sticky T-rex on stilts The corner shop with their pink cowboy boots & their hairy thighs Stretching lustfully, starved for green paper that provides
p e r a i , esp , era ai, e s p e r a i , e s p e ra a i
( t h e p o w e r o f ) . N O W .
( Geotic - At Our Cabin In The Woods )
[ T E S T S ] [ [ PLAYING WITH : WORDS & LANGUAGES & COLUMNS ] ] [ 1 ]
S l o w d o w n o w n w n n . the spins still have me at the neck
slow down own wn n
thoughts swarming & nothing feels wet yet but yes always here & always listening eye scanning sky cramming can barely budge but still feel the rush the heat invades the palms sweaty nightmare-ish m e r r y g o r o u n d r o u n d r o u n d & how much longer till the clock stops ticking slow down i'm choking on my own breathe caught between nets pornographic spider jets wrapped around my skull pelvic longing & yet laying by the crackling lightbulb flies buzzing heavy headaches & hurling planes over h e a d
fallen leaves like little yellow bruises f l o a t i n g down the imaginary abyss gently resting, grazing beneath what's left of the desert skin
E s p e r a i p e r a i e r a i r a i a i
os spins ainda me seguram no pescoço
espera ai esperai perai ai
pensamentos fervilhando e nada molhada ainda mas sim sempre aqui & sempre ouvindo metendo céu olho digitalização mal pode se mover, mas ainda sinto a adrenalina o calor invade o suor das palmas d n u o r o g y r r e m r o u n d r o u n d E quanto tempo até o relógio parar sufocando na sua própria respiração Preso entre as redes aranhas pornográficos em torno de meu crânio desejos pélvicos e ainda deitado no lado da lâmpada moscas dores de cabeça e aviões atirando sobrecarga
folhas caídas como pequenos hematomas amarelos f l u t u a n d o debaixo do abismo imaginário delicadamente descansando pastagem, abaixo o que resta do deserto
m e l t i n g c l o c k s t i l l t e l l s t i m e
t e m p o e s c o r r e n d o p e l a s mãos
Listening to: Pencil Skirt, by Pulp
_ "If you look under the bed, then I can see my house from here, so just lieagainst the wall, and watch my conscience disappear now baby"
Wow. How fast time flies. Since my last blog about the first snow fall I've had several sunny afternoons listening to the Kinks (far cooler than listening to them anywhere else), several nights in Soho & I'm already starting to pick up on British terminology! I am still mistaken for being American because of my accent (it's a curse I tell you), but I've managed to make a few friends here & there to show me around this marvelous city. London is starting to grow on me. It's massive compared to Toronto or Brasilia & there are so many different boroughs to explore. Seems like although many pubs & bars close at 11pm, there are hundreds of hidden nooks to keep the night owls up till 3 or maybe sometimes even 6am! My favorite spot so far is Joe's, a magical little dancing bar in Camden Town infamous for it's "Hot dogs & Vintage Rock".
_ Lucky for me, turns out the dingy (here they say dingy, not sketchy) bar around the corner from my place with the red neon lights reading: "Slim Jim's: Open Late" plays my favorite kind of music-- every time I've gone in for a pint they play doo-wop & grungy classic rock, just how I like it! Not to mention the bartenders are awfully nice & the security has already dropped off shots for my friends & I because we're both Brazilian! So clearly so far so good. I'm eager to get to know more of Shoreditch & the more artsy areas!
Speaking of which, the Tate Modern is showcasing some really incredible pieces in the Poetry & Dream section. One thing I have always loved about British culture is their dry sense of humor so it came as no surprise to me that I would be spending the most time in the "Dark Humor" isle. I will surely have to dedicate a separate entry on a more personalized story in relation to dark humor because there is so much of it here. For now I leave you with some of my favorite images from the Tate Modern: