Creative Writing for the Creator

É evidente que 2020 trouxe muitas mudanças e dificuldades para todo o mundo. E parece que 2021 pode trazer mais incertezas do que esperança. Como navegar no ANO NOVO ? Lembro-me de uma frase que aprendi na aula de Literatura: INUTILIA TRUNCAT . Inutilia truncat (latim) significa "corte o que é inútil", como cortar folhas e galhos inúteis. Mas por que devemos fazer isso e como isso se aplica à nossa vida diária no ano novo? Por quê? Porque o essencial é o que traz e mantém a vida. E o que não é essencial é um obstáculo à vida. Mas, primeiro, é preciso determinar o que é 'útil' e o que é 'inútil'! (Devemos ter a habilidade de discernir um do outro). Assim, essas perguntas permanecem: O que é essencial? (E o que não é?) Ilustrarei minha resposta com duas fotos da minha "Euphorbia Pulcherrima", também conhecida como Poinsétia:    Figura 1: Corte (poda) dos ramos e folhas em excesso que prejudicam a alimentação (seiva) dos caules

It is evident that 2020 has brought many changes and hardships to the whole world.  And it looks like 2021 may bring more uncertainty than hope. How can we navigate into the NEW YEAR? I am reminded of a phrase I learned in Literature class: INUTILIA TRUNCAT. Inutilia truncat (Latin) means "cut that which is useless," as in cutting off useless leaves and branches. But why should we do it, and how does that apply to our daily lives in the New Year?   Why? Because the essential is what brings and keeps life. And the unessential stands in the way of life. But first, we must determine what is 'useful' and what is 'useless'! (We must have the ability to discern one from the other). Thus, these questions remain:  What is essential? (And what is not?) I will illustrate my answer with two pictures of my "Euphorbia Pulcherrima," aka Poinsettia: Picture 1: Cutting off (pruning) the excessive branches and leaves that detract nourishment (sap) from the main stem

Christmas season + beautiful warm colors = a heart-warming combination! And our heart-warming, vivid-red Euphorbia Pulcherrima, which we have had since last Christmas,   is still alive!  (Yes, the  Euphorbia Pulcherrima is   also known as Poinsettia ¹ !)  Knowing that poinsettias require temperatures above 60  F (15.5  C) to survive (as they are originally from the regions of Mexico and Central America), we have given our poinsettia wheels! Poinsettia-on-wheels! What? On wheels?  — you might ask. Yes! Look at the pictures! And now that our poinsettia is on wheels, we can quickly and effortlessly move it to wherever the sun is shining. As poinsettias, we also need sunlight and warm hearts to survive and thrive. Thus, have a heart-warming, sunshine-filled Christmas! ¹   https://www.britannica.com/plant/poinsettia

Mirror, Mirror, on the wall: Who is the best of all? I, ME, MINE. Narcissistic, albeit non-realistic, I rather feel majestic. Look at me: I am ecstatic! I will lie, distort, and scheme. Manipulation is my cunning game. Your unsuspecting heart is my aim. Woe to you if you stand up to me,  For I am conniving, cunningly able  To blame, accuse, and call you 'unstable.' Empathy is gibberish I do not know how to care Discord makes me feverish I love to be your nightmare! They say love is patient, love is kind Yet, I possess or oppress your mind Till you succumb to your own fleshly pride   I am Narcissus*, a plotter of grandiose heists Ironically, unbeknownst to me, I am merely an underling Of the antichrist!  ......................... 2 Timothy 3 King James Version 3 This know also, that in the last days perilous times shall come. 2 For men shall be lovers of their own selves, covetous, boasters, proud, blasphemers, disobedient to parents, unthankful, unholy, 3 Without natural affect

  Today, Jews celebrate Rosh Hashanah But I, in Jesus, celebrate Hannah: My granddaughter from Atlanta! Autumn is about to begin Yet, a year ago, time stood still: There arrived Hannah Madelyn! Grandma loves your happy blue eyes  Your giggly laughs and smiles You are such a cuddly little pumpkin My sweet and cute Hannah Madelyn! May you and your big sister Emilia Grace Always be best friends  And be close, come what may  For pure love surpasses any distance Though Grandma may be physically absent Jesus can make miracles come true: He helps Grandma’s love reach you So, in spirit, she is always present! Have a Happy, Happy Birthday, My adorable and loving  Hannah Madelyn!

To understand what forgiveness truly means, it is necessary to understand what truth is. Some people claim their truth is the truth. How do they know? They just choose to claim their perception of the facts as their truth , and,  therefore, they swear by it.  To wear the banner of truth as one perceives it is a dangerous path. It can cause misunderstanding, conflict, and, ultimately, chaos. It is a path permeated with false perceptions, misconceptions, and unforgiveness. Why should Christians forgive? Because God has forgiven them first. So, is there still unforgiveness in your heart? If there is, examine yourself. Are you seeing the truth about the facts or just what you believe to be your truth ? Are you choosing to hold on to unforgiveness to justify your self-pity and remain stuck in the victim/orphan mentality? Are you still blaming others for your failures or lack of discipline? Wallowing in envy and jealousy but doing nothing to fulfill the dreams God wants you to fulfill?

Poesia é ventania: Bate de repente Sacode, surpreende N ã o se anuncia...   E logo se desmancha em brisa leve (T ã o leve que n ã o se escreve)

Será poss í vel interagirmos natural e espontaneamente com o universo?  Em verdade, temos medo da realidade que, de forma  ú nica, percebemos. Não a compreendemos. De repente, um estalo, um estremecimento absurdo, uma mistura única nos toma por inteiro. Algo de dentro e algo de fora se combinam e derretemos; fundimo-nos em inexorável alquimia: forma-se uma pedra bruta, sem lapidação.  Para a maioria, a pedra permanece no mesmo lugar, indigesta, indissolúvel, exigente — crisálida que não conhecerá metamorfose.  Para alguns, essa pedra é tão impossivelmente dolorosa e indigerível que buscam, na agonia do escrever, a sua expressão. Se, afinal, esses poucos sofredores deliciar-se-ão ante os parcos signos e símbolos impressos que houverem produzido, pouco lhes importa: ao menos sentirão o alívio de terem expelido o cálculo!

Eu relutava em remover esta linda rosa vermelha do meu jardim, onde ela realmente pertence. Infelizmente, minha primeira rosa a florescer desde a última   primavera estava toda curvada, incapaz de suportar o próprio peso após a tempestade da noite passada. Maltratada, não receberia alimento suficiente das raízes e acabaria murchando e morrendo. Tesoura na mão, cortei-a, levei-a para dentro de casa e improvisei um colar cervical com uma vara de grelhar e arame flexível. Mergulhei suavemente sua haste em um frasco de conservas com água fresca. Agora está descansando no parapeito da janela acima da pia da cozinha. Posso vigiá-la de perto, sentir o perfume maravilhoso que suas pétalas rubras ainda oferecem, apesar de sua frágil  condição. Minha rosa imperial vermelha rubi ... precisava de um colar cervical ... precisava de carinho e amor ... efêmera  existência! Existe alguém cuja vida carece de um amoroso e vigilante olhar e de um terno abraço (embora virtual). V

I was reluctant about removing this beautiful red rose from my garden, where it truly belongs. Sadly, my first rose to bloom since last Spring was all hunched over, unable to support its own weight after the previous night’s storm. Battered, it would not receive enough nourishment from its roots and would eventually wither and die. Scissors in hand, I cut it, took it into the house, and improvised a neck brace with a wood grilling stick and twist tie. Then, I gently immersed its stem in a fresh-water-filled canning jar. It is now resting on the windowsill above my kitchen sink. I can closely watch over it, take in the beautiful scent its ruby petals still offer, notwithstanding its frail condition. My ruby red imperial rose… it needed a neck brace… it needed tender loving care… ephemeral existence! There is someone whose life lacks a watchful, loving eye and a tender (albeit virtual) embrace. Could you offer it to someone?  Thus, behold a picture of my e

Se eu pudesse, se Deus me permitisse,  Curaria a todos, corpo e alma: Solidão, tristeza, enfermidades, mágoas! Abraçaria c om esta vibrante emoção  Cada criatura que sofre   E implora a Deus por intercessão Voaria, vertiginosa, acima das nuvens, E alcançaria cada remoto recanto, como os anjos: Curando, bendizendo, sussurrando cantos! De onde vens, emoção? De onde vens, compaixão? Que, tocando-me a alma tão profundamente, Fazem-me desejar o bem dos outros mais do que o meu? Esse desejo benfazejo, essa emoção, é de Deus! Meu coração dói e transborda de amor Meus olhos são rios desse bálsamo divino Pai, Filho, Espírito Santo, Deus Triuno,  Ouvi minhas humildes preces: Tende piedade da Vossa criação Tende misericórdia daqueles que choram E imploram em despedaçada voz Tomai seus corações Ao vento! Soprai! E arrebatai-os vertiginosamente até Vós! .................................... "Louvarei ao Senhor em todo o tempo;

What beautiful words in this hymn by Getty/Townend! To God be the glory for the hope it brings... In Christ Alone  In Christ alone, my hope is found, He is my light, my strength, my song This Cornerstone, this solid Ground Firm through the fiercest drought and storm. What heights of love, what depths of peace When fears are stilled, when strivings cease My Comforter, my All in All Here in the love of Christ, I stand. In Christ alone! - who took on flesh, The fullness of God in helpless babe. This gift of love and righteousness, Scorned by the ones He came to save Till on that cross as Jesus died, The wrath of God was satisfied For every sin on Him was laid Here in the death of Christ, I live. There in the ground, His body lay, Light of the world by darkness slain: Then bursting forth in glorious day Up from the grave, He rose again And as He stands in victory Sin's curse has lost its grip on me, For I am His and He is mine

My dearest Emilia Grace Springtime starts today, On your second birthday: What a lovely day! You are my first granddaughter Born of my first-born daughter This heart-math is clear: I love you twice more! I miss your embrace, your smile, Your face, your happy countenance I celebrate your birthday Even from a distance... I pray in Jesus' Name That one day We will see each other again Until that time Vovó loves you Very very much!

All right, here we go again ... Back to my childhood.  And a little about my first school years. Now it's time to register some memories of my childhood after Daddy's death. Kindergarten had not worked for me: it had been a nightmare to be in a strange place, in the presence of strangers, away from home, and, most of all, away from Mom.  My aunt had also lost her husband to a car wreck about three years before Daddy's fatal accident.  My uncle had been a crazy, cheerful man! He was a doctor. I remember when he brought living crabs to his house (they used to live in a house then) to make a crab boil; he let the kids (me and his three daughters) play with the crabs, which were tied to a long stick. It was a terrifying and exciting experience. I loved being around my uncle. But that was pretty much all a three-year-old (me) could remember. After my uncle passed away, my aunt, three cousins, and maternal grandmother moved  to the same apartment building close to us. T

Continuing on my early childhood memories, I will start with the two people who played significant roles in my story: Mom & Daddy. Daddy was a Frigate Commander in the Brazilian Navy.  I remember the day Mom and I went for a visit to his ship. Daddy came out to meet us on the dock. He picked me up, held Mom's arm, and we walked on a narrow bridge over the water, connecting the pier and the ship. The railings were made of rope, and it felt wobbly. I experienced a mix of fear and excitement but being carried by Daddy's strong arms made me feel completely safe. He was my hero. Daddy's ship: NT Marajó (G-27), an oil tanker.   I remember Mom's voice singing:  "Viva o Sol do céu da nossa terra,  vem surgindo atrás da linda serra!" "Hooray to the sun in the sky of our land,  rising behind the beautiful mountain!"  What a joyful start to a new sunny day! Mom was the epitome of the 50's musical scene era: a song  for e

I will start with this thought: CHANGE IS INEVITABLE. I need to trace my life back to my origins   (just a little history here, so please bear with me). And I will try to go as far back as I can. What do I remember? So, yes, there I was, in the state of Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. (That's where I was born and raised until my early 30's. You may look it up on the map if you can't visualize it in your mind) My earliest childhood memories bring me back to preschool age.  My first birthday party - 1965 (I so wanted to touch those bunnies on the cake!) My dad was an officer in the Brazilian Navy.               Daddy (far left) - Naval Academy Graduation - 1952    Mom was a teacher.                       Mom's Graduation                         Mom and Dad's Wedding Day   (Dad, Mom, and me - 1968) We lived in an apartment, and I was the only child. Daddy traveled most of the time. When he came home, I was always so thrill