So weird to listen Bill Crosby and Ella Fizgerald in the middle of nowhere as i used to.

by Caio Fernandes
2010.

I was at the side walk geting into the cafe... didn't have any money, I had to wait for someone there inside.
When I heard this suburbian gay teenager at the other side of the street saying:" I am your fan, can you give me your autograph, I've seen everything you've made ... all the soup operas you worked on and movies. When you kissed that actor on the last episode...."
On a chair near the window I kept looking at the scene, the waitresses came and I said was waiting a person and would order later.
At the other side of the street has a theatre and that blonde old fat actress didn't hear one word of the kid, gave the autograph and came to the cafe. On a table next to mine orders a black coffe...
I know nothing about tv actresses and never heard about this one but I knew she is past now , forgoten, I see on her eyes... her shoes... and looking for love.
I like afternoons at down town, the way the orange sun lays on the walls of the grey buildings and evokes a silence that exists in a dimension over the car's engines, voices and machines.
She was there with her legs towards me being such an easy target...
Large flacid tanned breasts... So cheap that i could get anything I wanted.
This is all so sad... a decadent goddess showing herself to a vagabound nobody at the dusty Sao Paulo's down town. And I needing even so much sex, attention, money turning the face and looking to the sick pigeons on the street or the coffee machine as wasn't understand or realising nothing.
Now I put my head down looking to my feet, old jeans pants, and grey coat, incredible old black shoes...
I remembered sitting in my empty dark living room among solitude and cat's hair listening an album of Bill Crosby and Ella Fizgerald singing tradictional Christimas songs, remembering sitting in the woods and being very young, waiting the wind and bird's songs return fron the leafes feeling the presence of a big predator. Calm I looked to my black boots and the grains of brow mud under it. The smells of the trees and the humidity transformed the air in a herbal tea that I could drink the silence of it as a prayer. The durt on my wrist and hands telling me I was lost even knowing very well what part of the forest I was.
I didn't want to be there, I wanted to be somewhere else, I had dreans and nothing around could offer me a door to it, the same in my living room , the same at the cafe.
Weird , too many action and adventure in a life where nothing happened. And that decadent actress staring at me. She had everything and lost it or are losing yet. What could one offer to the other? Only depression as two vampires sucking the partners vacuum. I am not going to wait for anybody anymore, I get up and go to the street. Walking among peole that is leaving their jobs and going to their homes, I try to think about a place to go. I wish I could sit down in front a tv watching commedy and eating popcorn. I feel the smell of warm fresh bread coming fron the bakery and look to the woman's ass walking right in front of me . Red sign for pedestrians , I stop. The side walk looks like an isolated island where i get stoked for my entire life with no directions.
So weird to listen Bill Crosby and Ella Fizgerald Christimas songs in the middle of nowhere as i used to.


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Maren's scent : Loving Green's dimension smells like NordenVind

Maren's scent : Loving Green's dimension smells like NordenVind

IF YOU WANT TO SEE THIS POST WITH IMAGES VISIT MEIN WELT



For 2 weeks i have thought to post those pictures , but with a text together . i stil have no idea of what to write .
Sinse i visited her blog for the first time i got involved by her life that seens very simple but has hiden corners , fissures leading you to a magic breath . the time passed and i was introduced to those photographys between teas , petals and touchs of cats .
It made me remember of 2 paintings i made after Saskia passed away . I was searching things that at the time i believed was impossible to find in my life . i had no model for to paint my feelings or dreans . Then Maren comes fron this fog of my hopes and visions , extends her bright hand and introduces me to this very particular beauty .
I looked for it , went to so many places of the this planet . But nothing was unveiled , i feel i was always at the wrong place at the wrong time . I don't know what is harder : to never find and believe that it doesn't exist ; or after all your hope is gone and you are exausted , to see that it is possible but you have failed and the gates didn't want to open for you when you was there .
Other sensation i had made me remember the King Kong movie ( that i don't like and never had patience to watch till the end ) . I felt like a primitive half wild cat - half man in a forgotten place , face to face with a delicate beauty fron a distant world . It is very disturbing for me .
These last days i have bilt a tiny cathedral made of crystal . I am going to put Maren , her garden with all the flowers , her cats , her lake , all her green love on the palm of my hand and raise the cathedral 's walls all around it . She will be protected for ever and allow me to do not let this dream to scape again . At dawn i will lift up the Mare's world over the clouds and it will shine as a day's star . At night , when starts to get cold i will give a last glance under the moon light , pic it up , bring to my shelter , watch her singing the last song before she goes to bed , and keep the cathedral , this " Loving Green World " into my jacket's pocket . Keeping warm and safe , repeating this ritual every day , for ever and ever .
So see her blogs before i reach , capture her " High Elves " female scent and hide fron the rest of the civilization deep into my montain's rainforest . AMEN .
http://www.nordenvind.blogspot.com/
http://www.marenshus.blogspot.com/

Giny , Araucaria , and the Montain . - by Caio Fernandes . 2009 .

Giny , Araucaria , and the Montain . - by Caio Fernandes . 2009 .
Photo by Gunter Roesler 1968.


The dogs and cats are with my mother . It is friday night and has been some thing around 7 hours that i left home , feeling so free and light alread ; just me and my faithful backpack that has followed me for so many years around the world . I had no machines , just a jack-knife and a longer knife almost the size of a sword and cloths , a bag of soy pizza flavor and a gallon of water .
I was climbing the montain at dark , there under the trees has absolut no light , the forest is too closed and intence , i am just able to walk because it is a litle path i know sinse i was a litle boy . It was some thing like 12 degrees in Sao Paulo , on the montain was below zero . I love this temperature ! After hours i arrived at the litle shack and opened its door , lighted a fire . Home .
I see that it is cleaner than i imagined , i prefer to believe that a very romantic couple found this place months ago . Everything is on its right place . As it has been for the last 30 years .
My family on the winter hollidays used to come to a house near this place , at this same montain . While they liked going to the town shopping and eating at the restaurants , i liked to stay alone , playing among the trees of the forest . But who showed me this hiden shack was a gay couple that had a house near here too , they didn't build it but used to come here before of to buy their house . These two mans were very polite with me and filled my mind with fantastic storys of their jouney around the world . I dont remember their names , sad . But the day i saw this litle house for the first time i told it would be my general headquarter ; they said it is ok for then .
The shack is so perfect ! Alvenary with details in wood . Small , just a bedroon and a tiny kitchen with an english wood oven made of iron fron the 19th centure . At the bedroom there is a couple bed . Nobody knows who constructed it , or why . but it is there , opened for every one . today it is exactly the same way , but i hanged a Jesus picture on the wall 17 years ago and wrote under it :" this house is opened for you , be welcome " .
This friday night I was feeling a green light of glory around my exausted body when i went to bed . Listening the loud sinfony of the forest . Here never had silence , all the animals that you never saw and will never see make the most weird sounds after sunset . Sometimes you are sure that spirits of evil women are calling your name . Sometimes you have the feeling that some kind of unknow being are walking around the walls of the house , smeling you and cursing your blood . Don't worry , those are just some sounds of the tropical jungle at night . I slept and dreamed with colorfull shines that got into my bed and danced all over my skin . Puting me on the roof where i could see stars singing futures and dimentions .
Morning . Misty montain calling me , holding my hand while i re-discovered every single specime of plant , while the squirrels climbeb the trees for to get the tiny red coconuts , same size of a cherry . And the monkeys gave the first screems . By the colour of the air and position of the few sun i can see among the leafs it is 5 o'clock . I went to the creek near here and took some water . Freezing . The cold air on my face and hands make me feel alive and brand new . The smell of the fog over the plants gets into the skin feeding my breath ....
I do nothing , just try to walk , for who doesn't know this kind of wood , the plants here do not allow you to get into the forest and go further . It is too dense for human body and the chances of be found by a snake or spider are strong . But with this weather the snakes must to be far way in rocky places looking for the sunshines . I try to find the monkeys . I know they are the size of a Lhasa Apso , but it is too rare to see then . They are over me , i listen then , see the branchs moving , but all the plants hide then fron my sight . They are making a huge noise now , they always did . And it is going to be for the whole day . They argue and fight all the time . It is a hell , but what can i do ? this is their territory , they have had this behaviour for thousands of years . I pretend don't care .
After a couple of hours i decided to climb down the montain i litle bit and go to visit "the farm" . The old path was totaly invaded by the plants . But the trees and rocks are the same , there is no way i get lost , it seens that i was there one week before . Started to collect on the way petals , herbs and leafs for prepare tea , and pinhao for eat . Pinhao is a kind of nut fron a very particular kind of pine that just exist on this part of the world named Araucaria . There are other kinds of Araucaria here that we don't eat the pinhao . But this kind of nut can't be eaten raw , must to be coocked before . I got kilos of it and put into my backpack . the sound of the blue birds and the cicadas around invited me to get further and i forgot the monkeys noise fastly .
The Farm : " Giny" , i am not sure , was a friend of a friend of my parents . One day i went there with my mother , at her farm for a dinner , i was 3 or 4 years old , and i remember . I am just sure that the first time i went alone into the woods was for trying to find her .
She breeds horses , arabian and english pure bloods for hipism ( i don't know the name of this sport in english when the horses have to jump obstacles , fences ... equestrianism ? something like that ) . I came to see the horses and even more for to see her : Giny is how i wrote her name sinse i was a kid . One of the first words i learned to write . But i don't know if the right way to write her name is Jeannie or Jenny ...and i have no idea of her last name . Is Giny for me , for ever . What I like to see is her colection of pines . She has pines fron all over the world , lots of specimes , fron the most comuns to the most exotics . And to arrive to her house i have to pass through these little pines forest . Their view and smell are like a gigantic green gate for me ; this "pine wood" divides the world behind fron Giny's lands .
Now the farm is old , the stables are empty , i saw just 3 old horses far way . After 15 minutes walking i am able to see the house . The house must to be painted . Giny must to be with 80 years old now or more .
She was beautiful , the kind of woman that is the every man's dream . Tall , blonde , thin , large breasts , huge legs , a face that makes you forget all the words ... you know what i am talking about . She never got married , i don't know her story , she never got friends too . But by all i saw of her very very strong personality , i prefer to think it was an option .
My first memory that comes to mind when i think of her , is when i was 7 years old . I had spent all the mornig far fron my parents losing myself into the forest . So i decided to visit Giny , she liked me and was the only one that talked with me as i was an adult and not a kid .
When i got there all the employees where hiding thenselfs and the horses screaming loud in panic . I was able to , behind the trees and bushs get closer of the house and see what was happening , there was a onça on the roof of the house ( onça here is the same than a cougar or puma ) . I was near it , behind a tree facing in silence the onça and it muscles . She was nervous , showing the fangs , loud angry noises with no name . Sundely i listen a car engine , and that silver Mercedes Bens stops in front of the house . Giny alone comes out of it . Magnificent , long black leather boots till the knees , black pants , a white polo t-shirt , her big breasts with no bra ...long blond hair , sun glasses . She stops few metros fron the onça . Takes out the classes . Looks at me ( she was the only human that saw me there , all the employes were hiden far far way fron there ) . she extends her left hand in my direction calling me with a smile . I runned fast to her arms . and hugged her thighs staring the animal . she faces it and say : " You can go now , go to your family " . The onça went to the ground in silence , calm , slowly , jumped in direction of the forest and went away .
I hugged Ginys thighs hard , my lips touched her belly under the t-shirt , i kissed her warm golden skin and looked up to those big breasts in white cotton canvases , her face shined . For seconds i felt her as a man must to feel a woman . She smiled to me passing the left hand on my hair and the right one on my back . Then the employes came runing making noises and eager to tell their impressions and versions of the fact . I hated then , and sinse then i decided that i would never hire people to work for me ...... she has 60 years old or someting at this time . But for a 7 years old kid , 60 and 30 makes no diference . It is all adult . Even so , she was reachable , she was mine for those secounds .
At the same hollidays , but other day , i was observing the horses , while she prepared her favorite dark english one and one of the arabians for me . I thought i would ride the short arabian one , as i was used to ride brazilian breeds as Manga Larga and Campolina , horses the same size of the arabians . But she told me to go to the english one . I got scared and exited : " Wow , really ?!! He is so tall and fast ?!! " , .... she looked at me seriously :" You must to . You have total control of the german shepherds of your house , you control the people that works for your father and mother , control of the cats ... you are gentle and good , even so make then obey your orders . If you dominate this horse today , nobody in your life will never be able to tell you what to do ."
This was the way her mind worked . I didn't know that the horse was a sweet one , so i decided to "climb " him , and spent all that afternoon riding him over the clifs and among the pines feeling as i was the most powerfull and free man on the world .

So this saturday now i got into the house . Called her name , she came fron the attic , loked at me and gave that perfect smile . She recognized me at first glance and huged me making me feel confortable . She is shorter than i am now . And the last years haven't being kind with her . Last time we met was few years ago .
On the table i put the pinhoes , asked her to cook then . It would be ready in 1 day . Not for lunch . She was preparing lunch alred , the kitchen had a sutil aroma of food . We talked about the farm , then she told me about the newest object , a computer . Till begining of 90's the house didn't even have eletric energy , telephone or gas , she dispited modern things but cars , and still does , but because of the age , she decided to have some of then . She fired all the employes ( YES!! well done !! ) , sold the horses and just kept 3 very old females with her . She says are easy to take care . I told her i had a blog , and showed it . She didn't know i've been a painter for the last 10 years !! I didn't know i have never told her about this . What makes me feel good . In front of her i was just myself , anything else . She saw the blog and laughed .
The meal was just integral rise , coocked vegetables and honey-mostard . She isn't vegan like me , but eats few meet , as always did . The only meat i saw on her table all those years was the bunnys she used to breed . Once she killed a white one of then in front of me , i was 6 years old or less . She was very gentle , respectfull , kissed the poor animal and killed him with just one moviment , no pain , no fear . But even so i don't like to remember that .
After lunch we laid on the lawn with the view to the valley as we used to do sinse the first times i started to visit her . There are no flowers on the sides anymore . Used to have red -purple flowers dividing the lawn to the forest . At afternoon , litle foxes used to put their head among the flowers for to observe us . chating chating chating .........we love to do this , we chat about nothing , Giny doesn't talk with anybody , she doesn't like anyone , just me . it makes me feel important and previleged .
The view of the valley is splendid , but i know that when Giny dies , the farm that is huge , will be sold by the family to companys that are going to construct condonms , golf fields .... streets ...hell , just the ork's hell .
After sunset i went back to the forest and to the shack . There , i slept fast . Next day i spent all the time drinking tea of petals , herbs and leafs i found , praying for God , Jesus , walking around the area , geting courage to wash myself with the freezing water of the creek .... at the afternoon i started to fix the old doors and windows of the "home" . Nothing complicated , this shack is really a blessed place , never needs to rebuilding nothing , nobody takes care of it , anyone comes here to maintain , and it never gets old . a mistery , a miracle .
At night i started to throw up . It is great . When i was a kid and came with my family , for the first 2 days i felt normal , but at tird and forth days i got in bed , just throwing up... it was the organism expeling the Sao Paulo's poluition . At 5th day i was brand new again . Ready for more adventures . It hapens with less intencity now but still does . What is very very good .
Monday , today , i went back to the farm , Giny had prepared pinhao , we ate and laughed , then walked among the pine colection . She gave me a car ride to the town , i took the bus . Giny doesn't have photografs of her face , didn't have kids , didn't painted nothing , never wrote a poem , never composed a song , never built a house ....nothing never , when she dies her existence will just vanish fron the world . i like to imagine this . It is pure freedon . Courage . She is a pure spirit .
Ciau Giny , Ciau Misty Montain ... hope to see you both before the orks find you with their progress .
3 hours later arrived to Sao Paulo City , took the subway , walked a lot , crossed the avenues ... back to this house , hugged the dogs and cats , we rolled on the floor and jumped among the furnitures .
New life . Let's start now .