As the world goes round João Pereira keeps with us and sends us his view and contribution:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SAIEamakLoY
Sábado, 14 de Janeiro de 2012
Being a writer
One day a wonderful person and a wonderful student - Victoria Ayuso shared this text with us:
Being a writer is first of all, being a composer, a composer of dreams and stories; someone who is responsible for bringing dreams and ideas to reality, through a simple thing called pen (or computers, if we are talking of today’s writers).
As to me, being a writer is not and will never be the same as “writing”, I mean, being a writer is something that is born with us, something similar to a gift that was offered to us, it’s something special that requires the magical art of making words follow each other in a piece of paper and, at the same time, like “glued” to those words, draw an invisible painting of dreams, feelings, thought, ideas that will tell the true story that lays behind those words.
On the other hand, if we learn the ABC, a lot of vocabulary and grammar at school, we will obviously be able to write several stories and novels, but that doesn’t mean that we’ll become a writer. Everyone can write a note, a piece of paper, a letter, a story or even a book, but are they writers? Only if they have what it takes, I mean, only if their destiny is to become a writer and in those circumstances, they will certainly have the gift and the talent of being a writer inside them.
Moreover, in spite of being wonderful and a true way of escaping to a different and kind of “personified” world, being a writer is not a bed of roses and every writer will tell you that there’s more to it than meets the eye. Indeed, a writer doesn’t have an easy life, because either we are lucky and become very succeeded, or we will be on the verge of becoming poor, watching our prospects as a writer go down the drain. That’s why, some writers see themselves obliged to find another job (which they can even hate), just to survive, this is, basically, if people don’t like your ideas or stories, you are done, because if they don’t like your books, they won’t buy them, so you won’t sell much.
Nevertheless, some writers don’t really mind and they try (as hard as they can) to live on writing. In my opinion, they do that, because they feel that they were made to write, so their love and passion for writing is so big and important for them, that they can’t fit other jobs. It’s like they were lying to themselves and as to me, someone who lives on selling stories, should never lie, neither to him/her, nor to his/her readers.
Being a writer is first of all, being a composer, a composer of dreams and stories; someone who is responsible for bringing dreams and ideas to reality, through a simple thing called pen (or computers, if we are talking of today’s writers).
As to me, being a writer is not and will never be the same as “writing”, I mean, being a writer is something that is born with us, something similar to a gift that was offered to us, it’s something special that requires the magical art of making words follow each other in a piece of paper and, at the same time, like “glued” to those words, draw an invisible painting of dreams, feelings, thought, ideas that will tell the true story that lays behind those words.
On the other hand, if we learn the ABC, a lot of vocabulary and grammar at school, we will obviously be able to write several stories and novels, but that doesn’t mean that we’ll become a writer. Everyone can write a note, a piece of paper, a letter, a story or even a book, but are they writers? Only if they have what it takes, I mean, only if their destiny is to become a writer and in those circumstances, they will certainly have the gift and the talent of being a writer inside them.
Moreover, in spite of being wonderful and a true way of escaping to a different and kind of “personified” world, being a writer is not a bed of roses and every writer will tell you that there’s more to it than meets the eye. Indeed, a writer doesn’t have an easy life, because either we are lucky and become very succeeded, or we will be on the verge of becoming poor, watching our prospects as a writer go down the drain. That’s why, some writers see themselves obliged to find another job (which they can even hate), just to survive, this is, basically, if people don’t like your ideas or stories, you are done, because if they don’t like your books, they won’t buy them, so you won’t sell much.
Nevertheless, some writers don’t really mind and they try (as hard as they can) to live on writing. In my opinion, they do that, because they feel that they were made to write, so their love and passion for writing is so big and important for them, that they can’t fit other jobs. It’s like they were lying to themselves and as to me, someone who lives on selling stories, should never lie, neither to him/her, nor to his/her readers.
Quinta-feira, 20 de Outubro de 2011
A few words on "Jabberwocky"
Hello everyone!
As you can see, I've just posted a poem on our blog. It was written by Lewis Carrol and published for the first time in 1872 as a part of Alice Through the Looking-Glass and What Alice Found There, which is a really great piece of literature.
Therefore I'd like to challenge you to search the web for the referred story and send us your thoughts on possible interpretations for the poem. Also, you can watch Alice in Wonderland, a film released in 2010, featuring Johnny Depp, Helena Bonham Carter and Mia Wasikowska. If you do watch it, please pay attention to keywords like "Jabberwock", "Bandersnatch" and "Frabjous Day". I must tell you that this movie depicts many of Tim Burton's thoughts on the poem posted minutes ago.
Have fun in your research and at school :)
Patrícia Caixeirinho
As you can see, I've just posted a poem on our blog. It was written by Lewis Carrol and published for the first time in 1872 as a part of Alice Through the Looking-Glass and What Alice Found There, which is a really great piece of literature.
Therefore I'd like to challenge you to search the web for the referred story and send us your thoughts on possible interpretations for the poem. Also, you can watch Alice in Wonderland, a film released in 2010, featuring Johnny Depp, Helena Bonham Carter and Mia Wasikowska. If you do watch it, please pay attention to keywords like "Jabberwock", "Bandersnatch" and "Frabjous Day". I must tell you that this movie depicts many of Tim Burton's thoughts on the poem posted minutes ago.
Have fun in your research and at school :)
Patrícia Caixeirinho
"Jabberwocky", Lewis Carrol
'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
"Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!"
He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought-
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.
And as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!
One, two! One, two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.
"And, has thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!"
He chortled in his joy.
'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
"Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!"
He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought-
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.
And as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!
One, two! One, two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.
"And, has thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!"
He chortled in his joy.
'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
Quinta-feira, 24 de Março de 2011
Terça-feira, 22 de Março de 2011
Mankind
What will we turn into?
I believe Paradise existed once but now we remember it as in a Hyperouranos world. Paradise vanished when the Humankind rose.
Science, literature, arts and ways of thinking have been developed over the time times and all this development has changed us into what we are today. On account of all these changes, we are believed to be the most intelligent beings on earth.
But are we REALLY the most intelligent beings on the Earth’s surface?
If we look back at our past, we notice that the world has changed from the very first moment we started to breathe.
At the beginning, when we lived on hunting, fishing, farming and livestock in little communities, which helped each other , we were within the balance of nature, I mean, we took from the land just what we needed to survive but there was no human exploitation. At that time medicines hadn’t been invented and only some herbs were used to cure wounds and diseases. Thus, only the stronger survived and the weaker, the sick and the old were left behind.
With the development of science and medicine, we started living longer and the natural balance of the earth was shaken. Then, our society became a consumer society anxious to explore and wear out all natural resources bringing about serious damages.
Beyond welfare, science intervened in other branches such as Physics, Chemistry, Engineering and Mechanics, leading Man to the invention of loads of gadgets we can’t do without these days. We are blind with pride, vanity and greed and we are completely dependent on our awesome inventions. But, little by little, we are destroying ourselves as well as everything around us.
In my opinion, this great intelligence of ours has been drawing us into stupidity and we can no longer put an end to it.
Where is this going to lead us?
It is going to lead us to our end and who knows to the beginning of a new Paradise.
A text by Joana Hrotkó
I believe Paradise existed once but now we remember it as in a Hyperouranos world. Paradise vanished when the Humankind rose.
Science, literature, arts and ways of thinking have been developed over the time times and all this development has changed us into what we are today. On account of all these changes, we are believed to be the most intelligent beings on earth.
But are we REALLY the most intelligent beings on the Earth’s surface?
If we look back at our past, we notice that the world has changed from the very first moment we started to breathe.
At the beginning, when we lived on hunting, fishing, farming and livestock in little communities, which helped each other , we were within the balance of nature, I mean, we took from the land just what we needed to survive but there was no human exploitation. At that time medicines hadn’t been invented and only some herbs were used to cure wounds and diseases. Thus, only the stronger survived and the weaker, the sick and the old were left behind.
With the development of science and medicine, we started living longer and the natural balance of the earth was shaken. Then, our society became a consumer society anxious to explore and wear out all natural resources bringing about serious damages.
Beyond welfare, science intervened in other branches such as Physics, Chemistry, Engineering and Mechanics, leading Man to the invention of loads of gadgets we can’t do without these days. We are blind with pride, vanity and greed and we are completely dependent on our awesome inventions. But, little by little, we are destroying ourselves as well as everything around us.
In my opinion, this great intelligence of ours has been drawing us into stupidity and we can no longer put an end to it.
Where is this going to lead us?
It is going to lead us to our end and who knows to the beginning of a new Paradise.
A text by Joana Hrotkó
Sábado, 26 de Fevereiro de 2011
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