1. 9/ NYC

    How do you deal with your pressure?

    Sleep, eat, run, climb,read, masturbate, shower, walk, take the subway, what’s app, instagram, snapshot something, walk some more, people, lots of them, heat, air conditioning, heat again, noise, smells, smoke, horns, yellow cabs, “help a brother”, people, hot dog stands, cyclists, shops, an infinite sea of them, buy something, walk, walk some more, get lost, google maps, sit at some coffee shop, write, “do you have free wi-fi?”, class, photography, stone cold air conditioning, strange people, 10 o’clock already, streets still crowded, walk, catch the train again, walk again. 11th floor, meditate, read, be thankful, sleep again.

    -I’m probably not doing enough.
    This is a thought I constantly have on my mind.

    People I love that would really want to be here, can’t. To accomplish anything worthily in photography is an herculean feat. Especially in this town. Pressure. Thought. A trillion of them every second.

    If I think then it’s over. Feel, then?
    Do, but also feel. Do anyway, and do more. And there’s every other thing too, light, colors, music, friends, family, brilliant ideas, breath, serendipities, fun, laughter, beautiful women, kids, dogs, blue dogs, parks, beer, outstanding places, views, movies, art, nature, rooftops, people, love. According to Gandhi anything whatever we’ll do will be insignificant, but it’s still very important that we do it.

    So I’m doing it, probably not enough but I am.

    On the process of getting unstuck.

     

  2. 8 / NYC / Monday / Tuesday / Wednesday

    It’s wednesday. I haven’t written in a couple of days. I got a flu and am almost better from it, slept a whole lot, walked another, went climbing once since I’m not running, bought some stuff, and had two classes. My course finally started. Both of them. The one on mondays is called, Establishing your point of view- Photography as fine art, it’s taught by this tall guy call Mazzeo who used to be a photographer and now is a gallery owner and curator mostly. He has this Gandhi look with round glasses and everything, only he’s really tall and has large hands. Of course there’s his attitude which I firmly believe has very little resemblance to the real Gandhi. On the first class, when he got in class he had this look that gave me the feeling he’d rather be anywhere else. That was my impression of course. The people in the class are really strange, and I know it’s not gonna be easy to deal with him. I guess as a reflex of this whole fine art Universe, he brings this segregation to class, a form of approaching subjects that brings people apart perhaps, something that makes it hard for people to share and talk about their works. Also, from all the things he said in class I came out very unhopeful by the end of it I guess, with photography and this entire art world. What he did was more of a quick portfolio review focusing on every other thing but try to see us in the pictures, our strengths, our expression. He talked a lot of what has and hasn’t been done. Well - What hasn’t? Regardless of all that, just being here is being a big learning experience, from the way they do things and deal with matters. It’s gonna be hard but rewarding, I’m sure. I guess there’s also the fact that there’s just so much stuff out here, I’m still adapting. On the other hand, the class with Frank Fournier was completely different, an entirely lighter and inviting way of dealing with people and photography, Frank is indeed a brilliant old man, just like my friend Daniel said, he actually reminded me a lot of Daniel and his way of being. Fournier is interested in our work, in who we are, where we come from, in our story, on how we approach life and pushing us to be better, to enhance our own strengths. After presenting ourselves he asked everyone to write down on a piece of paper our obituary message, as if we had died, and to answer the question - why do I photograph? - brilliant and interesting exercise. Simple but definitely not an easy thing to do, I never imagined my own obituary before, I guess very few people have. I have no idea what he expected but I wrote anyway. After that he shown us a series of short videos talking not just about photography but also literature for example, to give us the idea of what he wants to bring about on us, on how he wants us to look at things, giving us new perspectives. I especially like the video on which this nigerian writer called Chimamanda Adiche talks about what she calls “the danger of a single story” and how much we can be influenced singular ideas that may reduce our ability to full perceive the world and other people. After this we all showed our works. I have to say I must improve on this, I’m terrible speaking of my own work. It is a fact that I’m also really insecure about it. Pretty much all I’ve shown was the latest “somewhere, everywhere” mostly to get an idea on how people see it. It’s been curious and interesting. Both Mazzeo and Frank can’t really say much about it other than it’s random, and definitely strange. -a dog just got into the ICP! How cool is that? - some people said they see me in the pictures, which I guess I like and think it’s positive, right? I’ve done that for my self, as my own form of seeing my city, the spaces perhaps. And it talks a lot about me and how I relate to the world, my own story in a way. Well, to sum up, it was a good class, Frank gave me some hope back. Also the people in class are much more easy going and open I’d say, which makes everything lighter. I saw some great works, especially form this which is about my age from Denmark. He photographs his own life, but the pictures remind me of Nan Goldin in many ways. Some really beautiful ones. There’s only one thing, one particularity I noticed about Frank, that it’s. He likes photographs about stories, people, mostly people. And that is my a real difficulty to me. All this is giving me a lot to think on photography, the future, of what is it that really matters. I still have no answers other than to just keep doing, producing, working. I’ve been hearing a lot here about what’s been done and what hasn’t and to me these questions push us away from ourselves and what we really want to do maybe, in order to be accepted by a market…I don’t know, but that can’t be the focus.

    Ps: today it makes a week I left home. For all I know, in these travels, everything seems to be happening the same way everywhere under different proportions and speed that’s all. It almost seems like there other “us” in these places and often we find ourselves from a different country.

    Ps: Seriously 7-1?! I’ve never seen anything like it. But it definitely shown al us Brazilians a lesson.

     

  3. 7 / day 4 NYC

    I woke up with a flu. Most unfortunately. So I stayed home for the most part of the day. Slept a lot. Took some medicines. At 5 I decided to go out to get something to eat. I was feeling a lot better, but now that I think about it I shouldn’t have gone to Times Square to eat. Too hot, too many people. But I did anyways. I stopped at this place called Roast Kitchen or something. It seemed nice and it was empty. I had a vegetable curry with lentils and rice. Not too bad, but not awesome either. I wanted to go to the movies, and that’s why I went to Times Square in first place but I ended up giving the idea up because my head felt like it weighted 50 kilos. So after a little walking I went back home to rest. I took only a few pictures as a reflex of feeling like shit maybe.

    Ps: I’ve started to notice something about New Yorkers especially on subways, most of them have this neutral face on. You will go by them and nothing, no expression, no interaction. Maybe as a form of dealing with so much informtation, I don’t know. Like a shield. Also, people here are really big, it’s impressive. Black people here are really big, much bigger than in Brazil. And style here is really a trip for the eyes for those curious about this kind of human expression.
    I’d like to live here. I’d just have to figure a way of doing it.

    Ps: I bought this really nice book, that comes with a dvd called “Slow is fast” really inspiring stuff on water sliding devices and alternative ways of living. Great images, nice stories.

     

  4. 6 / NYC day 3

    Saturday. Woke up at 10. Still felt tired. Casey left to Connecticut. Had brunch at Chobani this really nice place in Soho, spent a while there eating, writing and talking to the Costa Rican barista. There they give you your yogurts on actual glass bowls which you can take home after if you want. Before I left I hit my head really bad on a shelf or something, lost some skin for sure. I spent the rest of the day walking around SoHo. I’m still processing this place, it’s just too much stuff. Too much to see, to do. I’ve been trying to track my mind here. I’ve started to notice that here, because things are so accessible and there’s so much, you start to think your things (backpack, shoes, clothes) aren’t good enough anymore and you feel like getting new ones. This is what’s been happening to me so far. But I’m yet to find something I really want, plus there are so many choices of everything. I ate Pad Thai after so many years, I was really happy with it. Although the prawns weren’t properly cleaned, and ever since Anna on that mexican restaurant showed me that I can’t ignore their intestines any longer. The sun here sets around 9pm so it’s really easy to loose track of time. Once the sun was down I decided to go climbing. I started doing all the V5 and moving up from there. I think there’s one or two left. At 10:30 I left the climbing gym, stopped at a turkish groceries store on the corner of the street, they had every possible fruit, everything neatly organised. I had to do some breakfast shopping, the cashier knew one word in portuguese “filha da puta” haha. I don’t know why but usually what we learn from other languages first are swear words. I took a cab home, I had a lot to carry. I was really tired. At home I still watched the Machida fight, but it wasn’t all the good. For a moment there I even thought he might win. Weidman was lucky.

    Ps: Forgot to mention that earlier that day I stopped at a psychic, Soho Psychic, and as the sign said “ask for the 10$ deal” I did. Her name was Tina and the place had this theme decoration. She was actually eating something by the time I got in. Anyways she ask me for my full name, and date of birth. Then she started telling these stuff about me. Apparently I’m gonna have a long life, be the father of 3 children, there is a woman from my past thinking about me but I should let go of that, I’m gonna move, she said she saw many travels in a near future, also I’m gonna have some success in the creative industry, and later work with film. Now, wow! That sounds good, but I imagine - has she come up with that based on how I look and my profile? Does she have a rehearsed story for people that look like me? - I don’t know, never will probably. Unless it becomes true right? It was definitely interesting though, cause I didn’t tell her a thing.