IS IT ART?

Once I read a text that was about modern art and, honestly, I was surprised by the number of art pieces with absolutely nothing attractive or useful to it. Then, my teacher asked us to do the one thing I did not want to do: write about that pathetic text.
So, let´s talk art.
It is obvious that the concept of art is not the same that we had some years ago. Well, of course, years ago the world had genious, creative real artists. How come the beauty of this culture gets lost as days pass by, how come people judge so easily if our poor present can speak louder than our brilliant past?
Nowadays, everything you do, the basic and the complex, the black and white and the colorful, and even the way your hair falls during your bath making weird shapes that we cannot identify, can be considered art.
I´m sure this is sounding disrespectful and this is not my intention at all. Just like everything in life, modern art has decent and talented artists too, young people who think differently, who want to innovate the way art is done, and we all owe them a big and sincere "thank you" and an even bigger apology. Thanks for the dedication, the creativity and the love they put into painting, sculptures, photos, and so on. Sorry for the way we waste our time paying attention to meaningless representations of those who have nothing else to do and therefore decide to become artists.
Still, I believe people will always look up to the professionals we had in the past and that the world will not let pure art die in the middle of this so called "modern culture", that, as for innovations, seem to be even more old fashioned and than those princess and plebeian stories.
Rui Barbosa once said that is impossible to be inside the civilization and outside art. Anyway, I guess he was right...


Sophia Suh, who thinks Damien Hirst (the fella in the pic) and all his offspring should be doing something else with their lives, wrote this amazing piece. She is a CAE 2 student and she pretty much rocks.

AGAINST NARRATIVITY (A CHEEKY SIP)

We argue against two popular claims. The first is a descriptive, empirical thesis about the nature of ordinary human experience: 'each of us constructs and lives a "narrative" . . . this narrative is us, our identities'; 'self is a perpetually rewritten story . . . in the end, we become the autobiographical narratives by which we "tell about" our lives' 'we are all virtuoso novelists. . . . We try to make all of our material cohere into a single good story. And that story is our autobiography. The chief fictional character . . . of that autobiography is one's self'.

The second is a normative, ethical claim: we ought to live our lives narratively, or as a story; a 'basic condition of making sense of ourselves is that we grasp our lives in a narrative' and have an understanding of our lives 'as an unfolding story'.A person 'creates his identity [only] by forming an autobiographical narrative – a story of his life', and must be in possession of a full and 'explicit narrative [of his life] to develop fully as a person'.

But at times, a cohere single good story doesn´t necessarily means development. At times, we simply don´t cry for the trees. That´s when we become "Episodics", when we stop making sense of ourselves.

The following is just a sip of an Episodical dialogue we had with ourselves and our zillion different kinds of personalities.

-Yo dog! Long time no see, bitch! What happened to ya?

-You have to believe in God, son...daughter...it. Otherwise you are going to get so screwed.

-Don´t you dare going back into that lame meditation state of yours!

-Well, I have no choice. Plus, it reminds me of my daughter singing when she was young.

-That´s awesome! Was she any good?

-Yeah, hm... no, she wasn´t. I was four months pregnant, actually. And, you know, it wasn´t exactly what we would call a bed of roses. You see, at that time I was building myself a "I´ve-seen-Jesus-and-He-told-me-to-stop-with-the-dope" sorta crap, but it was really hard cuz...

-Wow! I don´t even wanna blink now! Cut me some slack, chum!

-That´s ok, kid, you can blink. That´s one of the demands I had previously approved and have recently taken back, becase I can, and because now my puppys can close their eyes everytime, everywhere, and so can our soldiers, as ther limbs burst and burn and fly away in the air, pretending to dance...

-Oh, dude! That´s hardcore! And... I wasn´t going to bring the subject up, but, you look kinda fat.KINDA. What´s up with that? Are you growing some kinda worm in there?

-You´re right, kid.There is no word dog backwards.There is no peace. You have to comprehend that the best things in life are health, FOOD, and less hopefully, love. It´s cold out there. It´s storming, it´s raining. But most sad, is the rain inside our hearts... I say seize the day. Pull the trigger. Drop the blade and watch the rolling hills...

-You son of a ...

-Sorry. For the first time in my whole life I guess I could have been polite.

-C´mon you skinny ecosexual freako! I´m here to argue about people being murdered in cold blood, about children being born with AIDS, and since you claim there´s no doG you wanna keep flowing, down on your knees, outshined and sleeping?

-Tsc, Tsc, Tsc... What a bad girl. You could have just said you are grateful. No bad words, no bitter feelings...

-Yeah, Yeah, sure... so, I´m gonna go now. Cuz you... this baloney... that´s lame and... anyways, you know where to find me. I´ve got some cows to milk. See you later, like, never.

-No, you suck.

This writing was done in one of the very first sessions of the club this semester, as an exercise. The brains behind it are those of Sophia Suh, Amanda Pertinhes and Luam Gabriel, the "Episodics" in question.

THE ULTIMATE WONDER OF OUR TOWN (A GUIDE ON HOW TO GET THERE)

1-Go to Uvaranas;

2-Go past Operário Club and walk along several Pizza Shops, Restaurants and one bus terminal;

3-Our place is not there. Go back!

4-Across downtown and go past the Mall;

5-Go along the avenue until you you see a huge piece of poop standing in the air (believe us, it´s impossible not to see that!).

6-Jump into the poop and have fun!

This useful piece was written by João Pedro, Marina, Thalita, Victor and Miguel, Action Three students and writers of the hour.

HOW TO GET TO HELL (A SHORT SHORT STORY)

First go past Xuxa´s house and turn left.

Walk down Gugu Road, go past Didi Square and turn right on Hello Kitty Avenue.

Go straight on, turn right on Bush Park, then go down til Lula Square.

Paulo Coelho lives there in the bird house. Ask him for the magic key. You must fight the three Apocalipse Dragons: Evo Morales, Preta Gil and Joelma.

If, I mean "IF" you survive, you need to cross the Hugo Chavez Bridge.

And there you are. At Hebe Camargo´s gates of hell!!!

This beatnik piece was written by João Pedro, Marina, Thalita, Victor and Miguel, Action Three students and writers of the hour.

ARMLESS TINA (A SHORT STORY)

At a quarter to seven she eats bread with cheese and drinks cat´s piss.

At seven twenty five goes to her far-west school and leaves her arm on the kitchen table.

At ten minutes to one she gets in her tower by the window.

At half-past one, in another dimension, she eats the grass of her horse, Suck-Sucker 2, at a wall-less kitchen.

At two forty she gets beaten the heck of by a HE-SHE worm shaped eyebrow person.

At a quarter past four she plays tennis in Mars and loses her chest.

At a quarter to seven she has pizza with her ass-cheek also armless four finger boyfriend.

At eight twenty she does her homework with white ink pens and some alien fleas come out of her hair.

At half past ten, she creeps towards her bed, once again, armless...

This beatnik piece was written by João Pedro, Marina, Thalita, Victor and Miguel, Action Three students and writers of the hour.