17 April 2016

Scars


«He also failed. He contemplated the ruins of his failures, but always found the strength to look ahead to what was yet to come.» 
                                                 By Raquel R. in Short Story number 13

«There is something in the human spirit that will survive and prevail, there is a tiny and brilliant light burning in the heart of man that will not go out no matter how dark the world becomes.» 
                                                                                                   Leo Tolstoy  

  

28 December 2015

Fragments


«Small fragments of his life began to flash before him like an old black and white movie. Except that, in this movie he was the leading actor. The memories ran gently like a stream in the spring and overflew his heart with joy and tenderness. He lived his life to the fullest, fought every war and ran every race.»   
                                                 By Raquel R. in Short Story number 13

«We die containing a richness of lovers and tribes, tastes we have swallowed, bodies we have plunged into and swum up as if rivers of wisdom, characters we have climbed into as if trees, fears we have hidden in as if caves. I wish for all this to be marked on by body when I am dead. I believe in such cartography - to be marked by nature, not just to label ourselves on a map like the names of rich men and women on buildings. We are communal histories, communal books. We are not owned or monogamous in our taste or experience.» 
                                                                                         Michael Ondaatje 


       
                                          Sum from Studiocanoe on Vimeo.

21 December 2015

The same eyes


«He could no longer recognize himself. He saw an old man, whose body had given up, lying in bed. But one thing still remained the same, though. He had the same expression in his eyes, he had seen in old photos of when he was just a child.» 
                                                  By Raquel R. in Short Story number 13

«A man sets out to draw the world. As the years go by, he peoples a space with images of provinces, kingdoms, mountains, bays, ships, islands, fishes, rooms, instruments, stars, horses, and individuals. A short time before he dies, he discovers that the patient labyrinth of lines traces the lineaments of his own face.» 
                                                                                      Jorge Luís Borges 


Photo Tom Hussey

5 October 2015

Short Story number 13

Short Story number 13: Inspired by the song «Races» by Glen Hansard from the solo album Rhythm and Repose. 





      He slowly opened his eyes. His head was facing the window. As he gradually adjusted his eyes to the luminosity of the room he was able to clearly distinguish the blue skies out there. He turned his head around. He saw himself reflected in the mirror on the wall. He could no longer recognize himself. He saw an old man, whose body had given up, lying in bed. But one thing still remained the same, though. He had the same expression in his eyes, he had seen in old photos of when he was just a child.
He turned his head again to the window. It was the only connection to the world outside, of which, he once was part of. He felt that the end was near. Small fragments of his life began to flash before him like an old black and white movie. Except that, in this movie he was the leading actor. The memories ran gently like a stream in the spring and overflew his heart with joy and tenderness. He lived his life to the fullest, fought every war and ran every race. Never denied to fight for his dreams, although, sometimes he doubted himself and allowed weaknesses paralyze him. He also failed. He contemplated the ruins of his failures, but always found the strength to look ahead to what was yet to come.
That strength he possessed to overcome all the hurdles in live came from the absolute knowledge that the most important things in live are not visible. They can only be felt. And for that reason he always found within his heart the meaning of live.
He closed his eyes, and in the profound silence of his bedroom, he clearly heard the beating of his heart. Yes, it was there, that he stored and concentrated his most precious possession: love. In every inch of the tired and old muscle was imprinted an intricate web of feelings that connected him to those he ever loved and were once part of his life. Because of them he knew that live did not just pass by him. He lived it well.
He knew that even the stars stop shinning and die. But he also knew, that its light would endure forever, as it travels the universe for years to come, leaving behind a trace of immortality.
He felt peace inside him and let himself go. 

By Raquel R.

20 July 2015

Lifeline


«To catch her of guard was the best way to throw her a lifeline that would pull her back to him and away from the dark places that sometimes lured her.» 
                                                 By Raquel R. in Short Story number 12

«We die to each other daily. What we know of other people is only our memory of the moments during which we knew them. And they have changed since then. To pretend that they and we are the same is a useful and convenient social convention which must sometimes be broken. We must also remember that at every meeting we are meeting a stranger.» 
                                                                                                        T.S.Eliot 



Photos by Raquel R.

24 June 2015

Unsaid


«Ultimately, throughout the course of their relationship, they both became specialists in each other’s non-verbal language, which they carefully learned to interpret, to the point of consider it to be much more assertive and reliable, in conveying a message, than, actually, words.» 
                                                 By Raquel R. in Short Story number 12

«You're so calm and quiet, you never say. But there are things inside you. I see them sometimes, hiding in your eyes.» 
                                                                                           Tracy Chevalier 



       
                                                HEAD OVER HEELS from Timothy Reckart on Vimeo.

25 May 2015

Leave the world behind you


«He could not remember of a better way to pull oneself together and to restore one’s faith in life, than to indulge one’s sense of freedom by having an open road right in front of us, along with the illusory sensation of leaving everything behind.» 
                                                 By Raquel R. in Short Story number 12 

«People often ask me questions that I cannot very well answer in words, and it makes me sad to think they are unable to hear the voice of my silence.» 
                                                                                            Inayat H. Khan 



15 April 2015

Quest


«So, every time he felt on the verge of being swept away by anxiety and his thoughts were dangerously becoming an incoherent mush, he would get on his car and drive without a specific destination.» 
                                                  By Raquel R. in Short Story number 12

«I came to a point where I needed solitude and just stop the machine of ‘thinking’ and ‘enjoying’ what they call ‘living’, I just wanted to lie in the grass and look at the clouds.» 
                                                                                              Jack Kerouac 



       
                                    a story for tomorrow. from gnarly bay on Vimeo.

7 April 2015

Quietude


«Having confirmed her suspicions she directed again her attention to what was happening outside. This was one of the typical diverting maneuvers, that were part of a complex strategy, created and refined by her, in order to avoid or try to postpone, for as long as she could, the inevitability of having to deal with every kind of painful situations that came her way.» 
                                                 By Raquel R. in Short Story number 12

«The body shuts down when it has too much to bear; goes its own way quietly inside, waiting for a better time, leaving you numb and half alive.» 
                                                                                    Jeanette Winterson 


Image Raquel R.

20 March 2015

No words


«She was sure that if she looked directly at him she would see two deeply carved wrinkles on his forehead, right between the eyebrows, shaping an odd frown, which was one of the most reliable indicators of the state of his mood.» 
                                                  By Raquel R. in Short Story number 12

«I think communication starts when words are not present at all … I think we put so much emphasis on language, actually silence is so much more important.» 
                                                                                       Marina Abramovic  



                                              Image by Raquel Rosário

22 February 2015

Divinely aware


«Comfortably seated on the passenger’s seat, and although feeling a bit weary from the long drive, she still managed to maintain her senses on alert mode to absorb all the changes, like a curious and enthusiastic spectator.» 
                                                 By Raquel R. in Short Story number 12 

 «The aim of life is to live, and to live means to be aware, joyously, drunkenly, serenely, divinely aware.» 
                                                                                                   Henry Miller 


   Image by Raquel R.

11 February 2015

Infinite beauty


«Through the slightly smudged car windows, the sifting peculiarities of the landscape, flashed before her attentive eyes, like the picture frames of an old motion picture. As the car rapidly progressed on the road, those changes became gradually more visible and easily recognizable.» 
                                                 By Raquel R. in Short Story number 12

«Nature is painting for us, day after day, pictures of infinite beauty if only we have the eyes to see them.» 
                                                                                                 John Ruskin 


                                                 Image by Raquel R.

19 December 2014

Short Story number 12

Short Story number 12: Inspired by the song «What are we gonna do» by Glen Hansard from the solo album Rhythm and Repose. 





Through the slightly smudged car windows, the sifting peculiarities of the landscape, flashed before her attentive eyes, like the picture frames of an old motion picture. As the car rapidly progressed on the road, those changes became gradually more visible and easily recognizable. Comfortably seated on the passenger’s seat, and although feeling a bit weary from the long drive, she still managed to maintain her senses on alert mode to absorb all the changes, like a curious and enthusiastic spectator.
Clearly the focus of her attention was outside. Yet, on one occasion, when she temporarily leant back on her seat, to relieve the back discomfort caused by the long seating hours, she was able to furtively observe, by the corner of her eye, her road trip companion. Against the bright light of the day, only the outline of his face could be perceived, but as someone who profoundly understood his body language, she could guess, by the way he curved his shoulders and clenched the steering wheel, that he was tense. She was sure that if she looked directly at him she would see two deeply carved wrinkles on his forehead, right between the eyebrows, shaping an odd frown, which was one of the most reliable indicators of the state of his mood.
Having confirmed her suspicions she directed again her attention to what was happening outside. This was one of the typical diverting maneuvers, that were part of a complex strategy, created and refined by her, in order to avoid or try to postpone, for as long as she could, the inevitability of having to deal with every kind of painful situations that came her way.  But no matter as bad as she wanted to ignore the tension lingering in the air, her intuition could not be so easily fooled, so she instinctively adjusted her body language to the present situation and assumed a protecting position by crossing her arms in front of her.
Ever since he got his driving license, he discovered that driving for long periods of time always had a relaxing and soothing effect upon him. So, every time he felt on the verge of being swept away by anxiety and his thoughts were dangerously becoming an incoherent mush, he would get on his car and drive without a specific destination. He considered that, there was nothing as therapeutic as being on the road, driving, with the car windows opened all the way down, just for the pleasure of feeling the wind on his face until his eyes eventually started to tear. He could not remember of a better way to pull oneself together and to restore one’s faith in life, than to indulge one’s sense of freedom by having an open road right in front of us, along with the illusory sensation of leaving everything behind.
He raised his hand to readjust the rearview mirror, but before he returned to his initial position, he noticed, by the corner of his eye, that she had crossed her arms in front of her. He knew her too well to understand that such a controlled posture, like that one, was unnatural, to someone as extroverted and straightforward as her. The only occasion, that he saw her bearing such a withdrawn behavior, was when she was feeling vulnerable and insecure.  Although her long hair was covering most of her face, not allowing him a clear observation of her face, he was certain, that if he was able to see it, she would probably have her left eyebrow slightly raised above its natural angle, forming a distinctive and perfect arch.
Ultimately, throughout the course of their relationship, they both became specialists in each other’s non-verbal language, which they carefully learned to interpret, to the point of consider it to be much more assertive and reliable, in conveying a message, than, actually, words. However, lately, most of those unspoken messages had been sending them some mixed signals and warning signs, indicating that things were not the same between them, and that the natural complicity that they used to share had been slowly eroding, leaving them exposed and vulnerable. Still, following this initial stage of trying to deny the facts by hiding behind an elaborate plan of excuses and fallacies, it was now time for them to face reality as it was and not as it should be.
He concentrated his attention on the road again. Suddenly, to her surprise, he unexpectedly broke the motionless pattern, in which he had been immersed for the last couple of hours, and opened the car windows all the way down, allowing the wind gusts play with their hair.
He looked at her surprised face and realized that she had abandoned the protective posture and uncrossed her arms. To catch her of guard was the best way to throw her a lifeline that would pull her back to him and away from the dark places that sometimes lured her.
She was now rearranging her messy hair and trying to regain her composure.
She was smiling. He was smiling.
A smile is always a good starting point for everything, she thought. 

 By Raquel R.

30 June 2014

Harmony


«Looking around him, he spotted the glorious full moon silhouette, peeking among the tree’s branches. The sight of that unique, yet familiar vision was like bumping into an old friend in a foreign city. Its discrete glow was just enough to allow him a satisfactory perception of the surroundings. Not that he needed for he was pretty sure where he was going.» 
                                                 By Raquel R. in Short Story number 11 

 «It would be better for me … that multitudes of men should disagree with me rather than that I, being one, should be out of harmony with myself.» 
                                                                                                        Socrates  

20 June 2014

Sense of wonder


«Like a sudden rush of energy in a lifeless being, that contagious and familiar sound, immediately re-established the connection with the sometimes forgotten and often neglected part of him that still preserved that childlike ability, to believe in what is considered impossible, in the light of the rational standards. 
                                                  By Raquel R. in Short Story number 11

«Don’t walk too far away from the child within you, and never abandon the sense of wonder that magnifies the smallest of things into mountains of joy — for one day, when you lose sight of happiness, that child within can guide you back to the things that once nourished your heart.» 
                                                                                                       Dodinsky 


       
                          Oliver Jeffers Author Film 2013 from Oliver Jeffers on Vimeo.

13 June 2014

Extraordinary thing


«He felt that his senses gradually grew sharper making him sensible to all manifestations of life that were simultaneously happening around him, even the tiniest and imperceptible ones.» 
                                                 By Raquel R. in Short Story number 11 

«How terribly sad it was that people are made in such a way that they get used to something as extraordinary as living.» 
                                                                                          Jostein Gaarder 


6 June 2014

Silence


«The profound silence of the nocturnal hours has always been one of the factors that impressed him the most in those lone night incursions, but in order to fully benefit from that experience, he needed to empty his head from all the gibberish talk that had been overpowering his thoughts and allow this peaceful state, resulting from the absence of noise, to impregnate his mind, like a sponge gladly welcomes the liquid element which will transform its barren matter into a fertile receptacle of life.» 
                                                  By Raquel R. in Short Story number 11

«A few times in my life I’ve had moments of absolute clarity. When for a few brief seconds the silence drowns out the noise and I can feel rather than think, and things seem so sharp and the world seems so fresh. It’s as though it had all just come into existence. I can never make these moments last. I cling to them, but like everything, they fade. I have lived my life on these moments. They pull me back to the present, and I realize that everything is exactly the way it was meant to be.» 
                                                                             Christopher Isherwood 


Photo Raquel R.

Creative Commons License
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.