#AFORISM 614/RUMINANTS OF GOLD AND LAUGH# - GRAÇA FONTIS: PAINTING/ILLUSTRATIVE ART/Manoel Ferreira Neto: AFORISMO

POST-SCRIPTUM:

Em 2002, o ator global Ângelo Antônio enviou-me os Contos de William Faulkner em Inglês, WILLIAM FAULKNER´S TALES. Na metade do livro, tive um desejo tresloucado de escrever em Inglês. Levaram-me três horas para escrevê-lo, porque o uso dos PHRASALS VERBS não é tarefa fácil, é complicadissimo. Nesta época tinha um programa na Rádio Comunitária de Diamantina, PÁGINAS DE UM SONHO. Li o texto em Inglês. O programa era radializado às 6:30 da tarde. A minha ex-segunda mulher quis saber de mim o porquê da ousadia: numa cidade do interior, 40.000 mil habitantes, ler um texto em Inglês num programa de rádio. Simplesmente respondi-lhe com a lingua em riste: "Se tenho o dom para escrever em Inglês, por que não?" No outro dia, nas ruas da cidade, olhavam-me de esguelha, e os comentários eram únicos: "Quê sujeitinho mais pernóstico!" Não dei a mínima.

Eis a minha primeira Prosa em Inglês.

The deep blue sky is stained here and there by dark grayish clouds deeper than the fundamental blue of an intense cobalt, and by other clouds, though smaller, of a lighter blue like the whiteness of children's skirts , the bluish whiteness of the milkways. On the blue background sparkle stars, greenish, yellow, white, roses garnished with gold and laughter, diamonds and precious stones, or perhaps more like our precious stones, opals, emeralds, sapphires.

The images follow each other at an extraordinary pace, a voluntary rigor in the sense of uniting them, without losing a very singular characteristic, its simplicity in seduction and conquest, the simplicity of forms not without discrete and exquisite harmonies. What scares us the most about contemplating all the situations and circumstances of life, recreating them, making them attitude and generosity, yet to say only of "sweets" and "chocolates" do not do the style of someone who seeks and works their reality in the sense of attaining Life, and not only the meaning of it. Pure hypocrisy is a doll that caresses itself every day, yes, and no one can deny this dimension, for it loses the poetry of following a quiet and serene mall with its attitudes.

Ruminating gold and laughter, I build with my hands, they are the object of the intellect, the life I want to live. It would seem that now there is in all old gold, bronze, copper, and this with the gray blue, excessively harmonious, with tones of reflexes.

If after forty years of dedication to my writing, even with few published works, I did not learn to deal with words, put them to the service of founding and realizing Life, I would certainly have stopped doing it, not only because I could not To survive, there is nothing that makes sense. I breathe fresh air at the top of my lungs and feel happy. Here I live free, I am not oppressed by disinterest and laziness and I hope it will be my last port. In fact, in Serra das Águias, what runs is the laziness and disinterest of people being sincere, authentic, one has the impression that one stands on the bleachers of a circus of the fifth category; at the end of the show, gold is ruminated and laughter. It is the life I write from memory in the very picture I paint.

What is the use of words, meanings, meanings? No use. Certainly. They serve to play - well, it is for me to play, to pass the time until soon, when I already imagine that there is nothing left to register, once I have acquired the wisdom that the last possibilities are now of time and of eternity.

My lady does not accept in any way to use this language, to symbolize it, to metaphorize it, but it is the destiny of all men, at the end there remains a tomb in the city cemetery, a cross with the name, date of birth, date of death, for some the refinement of the mausoleums, of the architectural constructions. Suddenly, my lady knows that she will leave for another time, but dressed in a greater refinement, in another sense, but yesterday she told her not to forget the pillow for eternal sleep.

I feel myself smiling with the corners of my mouth. The only thing that the clock symbolizes or means, filling with its presence the hours, is the curious and insipid sensation of filling the day and night with the presence of the hours. The whole porch clicks on an intense presence, someone else there, I feel it, I do not see anyone. A wave passes, invisible and great, as I balance my eyes on the horizon, I feel good, I experience a song that appears in my ears. Either way you feel the summer - unpleasant, because it is hot; bored, because it is tiresome, - so, because I feel it, it is my duty to feel it.

Spirit of sacrifice? Abnegation taken to the extreme: Or incurable naiveté of the one whose choice is fixed in the attitudes that he judges the simplest - if there is no coexistence with someone, it is no longer simple to be silent with the person, keeping the distance convenient and intelligible, respecting their rights and duties; I can not imagine another. Intelligent and convenient 'is not ruminating gold and laughter, "but the ruminant is the desire and the will of gold and laughter. This simplicity appears in the eyes of all as the intrepid, like the paradox, of a position and decision in life.

One must wish to be authentic in a struggle and that most show total indifference; when we dare to do so, we must feel the strength of being something in our time, we must be active, to dare to say if we do not bear it: I go where others have gone, those whom have dared.

(**RIO DE JANEIRO**, 05 DE MARÇO DE 2018**)