Life is Life

Oh, Life is life and it entails pleasure and pain no matter where or what! I remember, years ago, inside of a bus in Rio de Janeiro, in my 20's, a hot summer day, I was simply melting inside of the bus, eyes half closed, trying to preserve energy by moving as little as possible as if any little tremor of a finger could stir the fires of the Summer Burning Hell around us... my forehead was leaning against the window, we were passing by "The aterro do Flamengo" and between the street and the busy traffic and the sea there was a big park, mainly grass with a tiny little elevation mocking of a hill. Before I even continue I have to say that this was a period in my life where I thought I would never meet someone to love nor be loved by someone. I was Young, handsome, romantic (and would like to think that I still am with the exception of the young part) and there was no reason to feel the way I did but I did nonetheless... through the window of the bus, on the top of this elevation in the grass there were 2 beggars... a man and a woman... the breeze was blowing outside, they were facing each other, she was laughing, he was looking at her with awe and joy, they embraced, her hair flew all around her face and they kissed... My heart skipped a beat, I am sure of it... It was simply beautiful, the freedom they seemed to have, the lack of self-criticism, the abandonment of being on top of a little hill, in the middle of heavy traffic around, throwing their heads back, allowing the wind to blow it away... I know, I know, I know, don't anybody give me a lesson on how privileged I am/was, having a house, money, all and all that represents success in the world we live in... the truth is that at that very moment, for a minute or so, inside of that bus, i envied them!

So, in a "blog-prayer" moment I ask to whatever is deep enough in me not to allow me to forget or even lose "that loving feeling..."

Having said it all I want to post beautiful images of a beautiful Autumn day in Copenhagen and the little island of Ven, in Sweden...

Leaving Copenhagen to go on this short trip to Ven in Sweden, this is Nyhavn...

One of my favorite towers in Christianshavn...

As I once wrote in an article to a Brazilian Magazine about Copenhagen: Look up!!! But don't miss what is going down either cause there are inspiring things to look up to while walking around

An abandoned swimming facility in Ven, Sweden...

Are these Raspberries??? I don't know. Framboesa is the name in Portuguese. So delicious...

This is Christian on a bike, right in front of me. Ven, sweden. Such a beautiful place, only 1:30 min by boat from Copenhagen

Arriving back to Copenhagen...

And then we came back home...

Marcello and the Sun, Part I

Ok.. being born in the Northeast of Brazil in the 70's meant that the only protection "against" the Sun was no protection at all cause there was no awareness of the damaging effects of the Sun. The only annoying thing that could happen during Summer Holidays by the beach would be serious Sunburns that beyond the acute pain and sleepless nights only meant that for 1 or maximum 2 days we would not be allowed to be outside and do you have any idea of what a torture it was not to be allowed to go outside, jump in the waters, build sun castles, catch an "alligator" (Brazilian expression for body surfing) and etc etc etc??? So, still purple (red would have been a couple of days before), still feeling that the skin would bleed at any point, after 2 days we would be allowed to be out in the sun again... Yes, no protection at all but the recipes for achieving the perfect tan abounded: Some Olive oil mixed with Coca Cola, urucum seeds and some drops of lime would be a ticket to achieve a Michael Jackson coloring process in reverse! And the fun, oh the fun of peeling off the skin when the water bubbles burst (usually 5 days after the Holidays), It was a meticulous process that was taken seriously for the ultimate goal was to peel the largest area without breaking the shed skin... carefully, carefully, as if treating a patient with severe burn, I would pull, gently pull skin from the shoulders, nose, arms and legs revealing the new, pinkish brand new skin underneath the old, dry and brown one. This lasted my whole life until I became 15... than it was all about The Cure, Siouxie and the Banshees... the Smiths... it was more than music, it was a life style where everybody was pale and Nostalgic and I wanted to be like them. Nowadays it is all known as Gothic but in the 80's, at least in Brazil, this movement was known as "Dark"... it took me a little while to lose the healthy sun "tongue kissed" look but eventually I got there and believe me it really took a while. Now I understand how easy it was for the British singers to stay pale (since it doesn't take any effort to scape from the Sun in England) but in the Northeast of Brazil? You did not need any heavy make up, gigantic crosses around your neck nor long capes. To catch every body's attention you just had to NOT TO BE burnt by the sun. To be honest I was not consciously trying to become anything, I just had a sudden identification with the depressed, nostalgic and pale life style and it was there, outside of the ONLY trendy bar in town, seated on a cement wall (feeling nostalgic, depressed and pale) that my new identity was splashed all over my face when I heard a comment coming from a group of young and golden colored surfers passing by: look, look, a "dark"...

OK, now I can totally confess, now I am old enough not to fear loosing the cool I had to show, there and then, while my heart was almost exploding out of contentment: A Dark! Finally I had an Identity!!! A Dark!!! I belonged to a group and it was a group that instilled respect and admiration by people around, after all you had to respect somebody, anybody, that managed to avoid the sun for long enough to become relatively pale (to Northeasters standards in Brazil)... I totally became a dark after this incident, it was my initiation into a group that had an identity that I so longed for, for so many years, growing up. It also protected my REAL identity that I feared would bring so many problems being myself in the society I lived in. I was not Marcello anymore, I was "a dark" and it was such a relief to belong to a group that would carry me around wherever I went... there were places like: "Crepúsculo de Cubatão" in Rio, "Madame Satã" in São Paulo, "Misty" in Recife, wherever I went, from now on, I would have a "family" other darks that, probably, just like myself were craving for some protection, for a group identity, that would keep people from looking within us and seeing who we really were...

I was very happy being Dark (contradictory to the movement's highest principles) until the day I went to see my personal Oracle, Dona Carminha, who had been "guiding" my whole life through her Gypsy card readings and she told me the words that I would not forget in many years to come: You should not wear black anymore! That's what she said. And I took everything she said very seriously since the day she was spot on telling me I was going to get the job I wanted and I did! I beg your pardon? I asked her, hoping she had said something like: You should not wear bags anymore... but no, I had heard it right: NO BLACK clothes for me anymore since it was attracting a lot of negative vibes to my life. For the first time in years I doubted her capacity as a divine instrument for telling me about my Future! I went home and suffered in silence cause although I loved being "Dark" I was not ready to sacrifice my happiness to the movement itself... well well well... I thought, before putting my black pajamas away and bringing back my fluorescent green T-shirt out of the drawers cause after all it was the 80's, and if "The boy with the thorn in his side" was no longer to be the soundtrack of my life there was still the B52's, the GoGos, and a lot of other bubbly, colorful and happy bands to whom I could listen while basking back in the sun, nurturing the skin cancer that would come knocking at my door, some good 20 years later... but this will be part II on the "Marcello and the Sun" trilogy or whatever many "ilogies" will take to get it out of me!