Eis que chegamos ao nosso segundo show.
Às nossas segundas expectativas.
À nossa segunda estréia.
Ao nosso segundo momento.
Ao nosso segundo.
Bicicletas de Atalaia no Studio SP (rua Augusta/ São Paulo)), Quarta-Feira, dia 14 de Outubro às 21h.
terça-feira, 13 de outubro de 2009
quarta-feira, 24 de junho de 2009
Conto das bicicletas coloridas
Subiu em sua bicicleta como quem conquista um sonho.
A cada pedalada sua excitação crescia, então pedalava, mais e mais. Dobrou na Rua dos Anseios, tinha que convidá-los para a aventura, todos eles. Sua turma. Disparou todas as campainhas ao longo da calçada, sem parar em nenhuma delas. Os garotos também dispensavam formalidades e, sem questionamentos, já pedalavam ao seu lado em expectativa breve sobre o que o arrancara tão cedo da cama em tamanho entusiasmo. Primeiro saiu o garoto da bicicleta verde seguido de seu irmão, cuja bicicleta era azul, em seguida chegou o guri da bicicleta prateada. O quarteto arrodeou o quarteirão para dar tempo àqueles que, por vacilo ou miséria de sorte, ainda não sentiam o vento estalando no rosto sob o jazz constante que ecoava das correias e pedais pouco enferrujados das bicicletas.
Logo eram A Turma. Pouco mais de 10 bicicletas magneticamente coloridas varavam a Rua dos Anseios e o seguiam sem ponderações. Ele sempre transmitiu segurança e poesia para seus companheiros, mesmo quando seu amigo da bicicleta verde o viu chorar escondido sob sombra da árvore de leituras na Praça das Perguntas. A árvore; era uma velha amiga, aconchegava-os quando queriam descobrir novas leituras e contar velhas histórias. O choro; talvez fosse por aquele perfume doce da menina da bicicleta vermelha. O amigo nunca soube ao certo. Não era fácil ser seguro, só ele sabia que a segurança não era de fato uma existência, era uma interpretação. Mas achava que se a segurança existia era somente pela boa interpretação de tal papel pelos seguros, e estes, só eram vistos assim por saberem interpretar. Sendo assim, era justo que coubesse a ele tal personagem, pois sabia interpretar muito bem.
O entusiasmo aos poucos dava sinais de insegurança e alguns garotos já se questionavam sobre o quão válido seria prosseguir. Já estavam longe de casa e o suor tornara-se constante. Como estava quente. E que sede. O Telefone sem Fio, de fato, funcionara durante as pedaladas. O menino da bicicleta verde, enquanto exibia-se para o bando mostrando que poderia andar com os braços cruzados, contou para o seu irmão e para o menino da bicicleta preta que por sua vez, contou para o da prateada que buscava uma desculpa qualquer para ter com a menina da bicicleta lilás que logo tratou de repassar para sua melhor amiga, a menina da bicicleta amarela. Em menos de um quarto de hora todos já tinham ouvido falar do tal lugar idílico ao qual ele os levava.
(Continua...)
A cada pedalada sua excitação crescia, então pedalava, mais e mais. Dobrou na Rua dos Anseios, tinha que convidá-los para a aventura, todos eles. Sua turma. Disparou todas as campainhas ao longo da calçada, sem parar em nenhuma delas. Os garotos também dispensavam formalidades e, sem questionamentos, já pedalavam ao seu lado em expectativa breve sobre o que o arrancara tão cedo da cama em tamanho entusiasmo. Primeiro saiu o garoto da bicicleta verde seguido de seu irmão, cuja bicicleta era azul, em seguida chegou o guri da bicicleta prateada. O quarteto arrodeou o quarteirão para dar tempo àqueles que, por vacilo ou miséria de sorte, ainda não sentiam o vento estalando no rosto sob o jazz constante que ecoava das correias e pedais pouco enferrujados das bicicletas.
Logo eram A Turma. Pouco mais de 10 bicicletas magneticamente coloridas varavam a Rua dos Anseios e o seguiam sem ponderações. Ele sempre transmitiu segurança e poesia para seus companheiros, mesmo quando seu amigo da bicicleta verde o viu chorar escondido sob sombra da árvore de leituras na Praça das Perguntas. A árvore; era uma velha amiga, aconchegava-os quando queriam descobrir novas leituras e contar velhas histórias. O choro; talvez fosse por aquele perfume doce da menina da bicicleta vermelha. O amigo nunca soube ao certo. Não era fácil ser seguro, só ele sabia que a segurança não era de fato uma existência, era uma interpretação. Mas achava que se a segurança existia era somente pela boa interpretação de tal papel pelos seguros, e estes, só eram vistos assim por saberem interpretar. Sendo assim, era justo que coubesse a ele tal personagem, pois sabia interpretar muito bem.
O entusiasmo aos poucos dava sinais de insegurança e alguns garotos já se questionavam sobre o quão válido seria prosseguir. Já estavam longe de casa e o suor tornara-se constante. Como estava quente. E que sede. O Telefone sem Fio, de fato, funcionara durante as pedaladas. O menino da bicicleta verde, enquanto exibia-se para o bando mostrando que poderia andar com os braços cruzados, contou para o seu irmão e para o menino da bicicleta preta que por sua vez, contou para o da prateada que buscava uma desculpa qualquer para ter com a menina da bicicleta lilás que logo tratou de repassar para sua melhor amiga, a menina da bicicleta amarela. Em menos de um quarto de hora todos já tinham ouvido falar do tal lugar idílico ao qual ele os levava.
(Continua...)
quarta-feira, 27 de maio de 2009
Lovers & Toys (part III)
PART III
(The end)
Bastian has owned a very strong personality he always found a way to conquer his objectives. As a spark light he went back home. Arriving there, started to look around in his bedroom like looking for a box of treasure, in fact he would fight for one, he felt the doll itself a treasure, a treasure for the one he would do anything for.
Yeah, finally found! The sword which would guide him to majesty, the king now could fight for his treasure, and that sword was a gun, a nice pistol bought with his own money when he was twelve, all of his mates had one, it was a kind of status for joining the “club”, but as we know, Bastian do not give a damn for them or their “club” even so he bought the great gun, maybe to show himself that he also could have one and it would not be this that would make the boys better than him. Or maybe he just wanted to feel a “normal” kid who has a pistol at twelve.
Bastian took the gun and came back the store, it was not crowded but the ones who were there got panic when Bastian first took out his gun and told everyone to keep quiet. It was pretty simple he just wanted the doll, he would not hurt anyone, not even would take money from the store, “just the magic doll” repeated him for the audience. He had done a wonderful job. He was wearing a mask, a very simple one, this was a gift from his uncle on carnival, he rarely used to wear it but today, oh today, he glorifies his uncle for has given him that “safety” mask, he also disarmed the guards and broke some cameras in the store. Suddenly a snap of conscience popped in his mind and for almost three seconds he regretted for doing this, was it a good reason for being risking his fragile life? …the doll answered his question, yes it was.
Not many seconds after, a guard who was passing down the corner overheard the noisy disturbance which came from the green store across the street. He got scared. And even not realizing what was happening yet the officer ran straight to the store. Twenty seconds later he saw the problem but not the responsible for it. Despair. Now, the sweat starts to dominate all his body. 25 years old, first day of work, first day as a real officer and what is he in front of? How realize that in his first day on the streets, in such a deadly morning he could lose his life and all his dreams? He saw the masked “man”. Even worse, he carries a gun. Down the corridor, the masked “man” had not seen him yet. He was a fiancé and for a moment he thought about quitting this horrible job, but what kind of man was that who would run out from his obligations? He entered the store.
Bastian heard the noise coming from the front door, walked and saw the inexperienced guard, there was no time to argue, the guard would never understand his feelings, nobody never did. Maybe threatening the guard he would think twice or maybe Bastian had to do something more. But he really needed that doll. Two shots. Many screams. The guard was faster.
People were scared but curious too, everyone was rounding the body, the guard took the mask off and all them looked shocked and terrified for the 16 year-old boy dead, carrying a water revolver in a hand and the other pressing a little doll against his chest.
Bastian seemed to emit a plain smile in his face.
(The end)
Bastian has owned a very strong personality he always found a way to conquer his objectives. As a spark light he went back home. Arriving there, started to look around in his bedroom like looking for a box of treasure, in fact he would fight for one, he felt the doll itself a treasure, a treasure for the one he would do anything for.
Yeah, finally found! The sword which would guide him to majesty, the king now could fight for his treasure, and that sword was a gun, a nice pistol bought with his own money when he was twelve, all of his mates had one, it was a kind of status for joining the “club”, but as we know, Bastian do not give a damn for them or their “club” even so he bought the great gun, maybe to show himself that he also could have one and it would not be this that would make the boys better than him. Or maybe he just wanted to feel a “normal” kid who has a pistol at twelve.
Bastian took the gun and came back the store, it was not crowded but the ones who were there got panic when Bastian first took out his gun and told everyone to keep quiet. It was pretty simple he just wanted the doll, he would not hurt anyone, not even would take money from the store, “just the magic doll” repeated him for the audience. He had done a wonderful job. He was wearing a mask, a very simple one, this was a gift from his uncle on carnival, he rarely used to wear it but today, oh today, he glorifies his uncle for has given him that “safety” mask, he also disarmed the guards and broke some cameras in the store. Suddenly a snap of conscience popped in his mind and for almost three seconds he regretted for doing this, was it a good reason for being risking his fragile life? …the doll answered his question, yes it was.
Not many seconds after, a guard who was passing down the corner overheard the noisy disturbance which came from the green store across the street. He got scared. And even not realizing what was happening yet the officer ran straight to the store. Twenty seconds later he saw the problem but not the responsible for it. Despair. Now, the sweat starts to dominate all his body. 25 years old, first day of work, first day as a real officer and what is he in front of? How realize that in his first day on the streets, in such a deadly morning he could lose his life and all his dreams? He saw the masked “man”. Even worse, he carries a gun. Down the corridor, the masked “man” had not seen him yet. He was a fiancé and for a moment he thought about quitting this horrible job, but what kind of man was that who would run out from his obligations? He entered the store.
Bastian heard the noise coming from the front door, walked and saw the inexperienced guard, there was no time to argue, the guard would never understand his feelings, nobody never did. Maybe threatening the guard he would think twice or maybe Bastian had to do something more. But he really needed that doll. Two shots. Many screams. The guard was faster.
People were scared but curious too, everyone was rounding the body, the guard took the mask off and all them looked shocked and terrified for the 16 year-old boy dead, carrying a water revolver in a hand and the other pressing a little doll against his chest.
Bastian seemed to emit a plain smile in his face.
quarta-feira, 20 de maio de 2009
Lovers & Toys (Part II)
PART II
(The Obsession)
Half past four a.m., Bastian had already woken up. The brightness in his eyes reveals in a very special way his anxiousness in that morning. Actually he did not know for sure the reason for being so apprehensive. But not now! He will not think about it now! He is too happy for that.
He washes his face, in a very clever way, brushes his teeth; now the trousers, t-shirt and his best pair of sneakers it is very dirty and old but it is the one he most appreciates. The breakfast was wonderful, he always ate the same thing, some coffee, milk, toasts…however in that morning everything seemed to be different like if it was the first time he had eaten that food, each taste had a particular feeling in his heart, he never noticed how good that repeated food was.
There is no special reason for being up so early, it was Sunday, no classes today. Bastian decides to go out for a walk.
Pretty normal morning, not too much sun for a beach, neither a cloudy day to stay home, nice day, nice day for a walk.
Bastian was some blocks away from his home when he passed by a children store, he decided to enter, the reason : unknown. He was not a kid anymore what could have attracted him to that store? Suddenly a little doll, a very delicate and well shaped one appears in front of him, it was in a beautiful package, there, so fragile, waiting for a hand to take it home. He realized that it was the last model in the store. That one had to owner him!
For some way he was completely fancy by the doll, it was so beautiful, so magnetic, he was wondering how he could have that incomparable gift. The doll was financially inaccessible. Bastian never had too much money at home. Such situations remind him how things were at his house, he had never been starving or even hungry in his all life but always comes to his mind the image of his mom telling to save money at home, sometimes the bills were extremely bigger than the budget. Even so, Bastian never had reasons to complain about anything at home, mom always told him very proudly that some of the things he would never feel the lack of would be food and love, and she has done everything for this cause.
Despite knowing the doll was too expensive he realized that it could cost any price, any price in life but he would do anything to catch the doll. As if it was his daughter.
(...continua...)
(The Obsession)
Half past four a.m., Bastian had already woken up. The brightness in his eyes reveals in a very special way his anxiousness in that morning. Actually he did not know for sure the reason for being so apprehensive. But not now! He will not think about it now! He is too happy for that.
He washes his face, in a very clever way, brushes his teeth; now the trousers, t-shirt and his best pair of sneakers it is very dirty and old but it is the one he most appreciates. The breakfast was wonderful, he always ate the same thing, some coffee, milk, toasts…however in that morning everything seemed to be different like if it was the first time he had eaten that food, each taste had a particular feeling in his heart, he never noticed how good that repeated food was.
There is no special reason for being up so early, it was Sunday, no classes today. Bastian decides to go out for a walk.
Pretty normal morning, not too much sun for a beach, neither a cloudy day to stay home, nice day, nice day for a walk.
Bastian was some blocks away from his home when he passed by a children store, he decided to enter, the reason : unknown. He was not a kid anymore what could have attracted him to that store? Suddenly a little doll, a very delicate and well shaped one appears in front of him, it was in a beautiful package, there, so fragile, waiting for a hand to take it home. He realized that it was the last model in the store. That one had to owner him!
For some way he was completely fancy by the doll, it was so beautiful, so magnetic, he was wondering how he could have that incomparable gift. The doll was financially inaccessible. Bastian never had too much money at home. Such situations remind him how things were at his house, he had never been starving or even hungry in his all life but always comes to his mind the image of his mom telling to save money at home, sometimes the bills were extremely bigger than the budget. Even so, Bastian never had reasons to complain about anything at home, mom always told him very proudly that some of the things he would never feel the lack of would be food and love, and she has done everything for this cause.
Despite knowing the doll was too expensive he realized that it could cost any price, any price in life but he would do anything to catch the doll. As if it was his daughter.
(...continua...)
terça-feira, 12 de maio de 2009
Lovers & Toys
(...o primeiro conto que escrevi.Publicado no livro resultado de um "Project" de conclusão de curso de Inglês. Em algum tempo perdido entre 2001/02...)
Part I
(The Bastian boy)
“People were scared but curious too, everyone was rounding the body...all them looked shocked and terrified for the 16 year-old boy…pressing a little doll against his chest…seemed to emit a plain smile in his face.”
Half past four a.m., Bastian had already woken up. The brightness in his eyes reveals in a very special way his anxiousness in that morning. Actually, he did not know for sure the reason for being so apprehensive however it was not a motive to be questioning himself all the time like once, when he was an eleven year-old boy and used to pass long and hard hours thinking how come he was a kid who did not like to play and enjoy himself with the other children. He could not be a normal boy. For the other kids he was a kind of stupid and funny freak which they could laugh at and throw little balls made of paper at the classroom. Of course his classmates now discriminate him but it was not like this in the beginning.
He was a new student at the Acland junior high school. First day of class. The ring bells. When Bastian first came into his classroom the kids shot their eyes straight to him as if he was a different being coming from outer space, however, it was not a cruel eye shot; the kids were just curious about the new mate, in fact even some girls commented how cute he was, the boys immediately start to talk to him asking about his age, what did he like to do and if he had already watched the new series of cartoon which was being presented at channel 21.
After some weeks Bastian started to show everyone his introspectiveness. His friends no more want to talk to him or invite him to play football because every time they had done it Bastian had answered with haughtiness and many “nos” were listened by them. Even some more friendly mates had their faces punched when, for some while, touched Bastian` shoulders to invite him to play. These and many other reasons gave Bastian the title of the most hated mate among the classroom. Well, Bastian was for sure a bad boy at school but nobody, no teachers, no educators, nobody tried to understand or even to find what causes, maybe outside the school, gave birth to such a bad boy in Bastian.
(continua...)
Part I
(The Bastian boy)
“People were scared but curious too, everyone was rounding the body...all them looked shocked and terrified for the 16 year-old boy…pressing a little doll against his chest…seemed to emit a plain smile in his face.”
Half past four a.m., Bastian had already woken up. The brightness in his eyes reveals in a very special way his anxiousness in that morning. Actually, he did not know for sure the reason for being so apprehensive however it was not a motive to be questioning himself all the time like once, when he was an eleven year-old boy and used to pass long and hard hours thinking how come he was a kid who did not like to play and enjoy himself with the other children. He could not be a normal boy. For the other kids he was a kind of stupid and funny freak which they could laugh at and throw little balls made of paper at the classroom. Of course his classmates now discriminate him but it was not like this in the beginning.
He was a new student at the Acland junior high school. First day of class. The ring bells. When Bastian first came into his classroom the kids shot their eyes straight to him as if he was a different being coming from outer space, however, it was not a cruel eye shot; the kids were just curious about the new mate, in fact even some girls commented how cute he was, the boys immediately start to talk to him asking about his age, what did he like to do and if he had already watched the new series of cartoon which was being presented at channel 21.
After some weeks Bastian started to show everyone his introspectiveness. His friends no more want to talk to him or invite him to play football because every time they had done it Bastian had answered with haughtiness and many “nos” were listened by them. Even some more friendly mates had their faces punched when, for some while, touched Bastian` shoulders to invite him to play. These and many other reasons gave Bastian the title of the most hated mate among the classroom. Well, Bastian was for sure a bad boy at school but nobody, no teachers, no educators, nobody tried to understand or even to find what causes, maybe outside the school, gave birth to such a bad boy in Bastian.
(continua...)
sábado, 4 de abril de 2009
Hiato
Há tempos em que o Tempo
é que manda
que o Tempo dá banda
e debanda
que o Tempo demanda Tempo
e o Tempo, agora, diz que
é hora de dar Tempo
ao Tempo
diz ser o momento do vento
entre quatro paredes
entre quatro talentos
segunda-feira, 23 de fevereiro de 2009
O Café da Manhã
Ela já não está
seu cheiro sim
o Acordar
triste tragédia para o começo do fim
doces lembranças da Noite anterior
Esta sim,
cravou em meu peito os aromas e os anseios.
Ingênuo o meu peito então,
acreditou que ao despertar
sentiria o Verão
mas não!
sentiu o Inverno
pois ela já não está
mas seu cheiro sim
e o café na cama não veio
como também não veio
o Verão dos meus anseios
seu cheiro sim
o Acordar
triste tragédia para o começo do fim
doces lembranças da Noite anterior
Esta sim,
cravou em meu peito os aromas e os anseios.
Ingênuo o meu peito então,
acreditou que ao despertar
sentiria o Verão
mas não!
sentiu o Inverno
pois ela já não está
mas seu cheiro sim
e o café na cama não veio
como também não veio
o Verão dos meus anseios
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