Creative Writing #3

Sobre quando fui no Rogers Centre (estádio do Toronto Blue Jays) pra ver o meu primeiro jogo da NFL (Buffalo Bill's e Washington Redskins). 

"Every Torontonian knows that, on a game day, south of Front Street and Union Station is going to be filled with sports fans. Jays, Raptors or Leafs, it makes no matter, the lake comes crashing in and all you can see is a sea of blue people, wearing jerseys to support their teams. On that particular Sunday, though, the blue belonged to Buffalo as the Bills were playing the Washing Redskins on Rogers Centre for the National Football League. 'Want the NFL? Go to the NFL' said a banner hanging in one of the stadium's many gates. And that was precisely what we were doing. Canadians fans of American football. 

After a quick entrey on Rogers Centre, with no problems whatsoever, I was given a small blue towel with the Bills logo (a buffalo, of course) that said 'Lead the Charge', so I could spin it around as they scored. A couple of ramps later, I was at an outer ring of the stadium and started looking for guidance and pointing arrows. There were the usual food joints, lines everywhere, blue and red fans coming and going, families, friends and couples. It always makes me smile to see a couple wearing jerseys from rival teams. After some steps, I looked to my right and saw one of the hallways leading to the field and seats. I didn't bother to check if it was the right one because I was immediately draw to it. The end of it was barely visible yet it didn't seem possible.

Once through it, I stopped and let my eyes do their job. That was it. Thousands of seats everywhere, empty and occupied; to immediate sides, steep steps going all the way up. As my view followed the rings of seats, they reached the opposite side of where I was and people there were just so small that if I screamed something and the stadium was dead quiet I wonder if they'd be able to listen to my words. And, most important of all, right in front of me was the green field, both teams already practicing on opposite sides of it with several footballs. 

I took pictures but I feel I should just delete them because they don't make me experience the same feeling and extremely poor descriptions of that moment. How could I limit this to a computer screen when I feel my eyesight is failing me because there's just so much to see? This is it. This is the NFL. Game on."

Creative Writing #2

Sobre a minha visita à CN Tower.

"I chose a very peculiar day to go to the CN Tower. December 26th. A Monday. A blue, cloudless sky painted Toronto and I decided to walk there from Sherbourne and King. As I approached downtown I could already see the type of people I'd meet on the tower; people that walked downtown Toronto the day after Christmas: tourists. 

Once there, the line was bigger than expected. I decided to wait for it to get smaller, as I people-watched. It's the perfect place to play "guess where these guys are from." Saudi Arabia, Germany, France or Quebec. You can't really tell with Spanish people. One large group showed up; a dozen parents and twice as many teenage boys. They wore all the same red uniform, along with their light blond hair and the brightest blue eyes. I told myself they were the junior Swedish national hockey team. The whole group eventually joined the line and got in. Well, I should get in too. A short moment after that, I was already buying tickets, joining lines, walking towards where I was pointed to, seeing people entering souvenir stores and leaving with merchandise related to either bears, mooses or red leafs. Once on the surprisingly small elevator, the ride began.

We could see the bottom of the tower getting away through the partially glassed floor. We could tell the elevator was extremely fast because suddenly all surrounding high-rises were already beneath us. The first floor or main part of the CN Tower had restaurants, other elevators, stairs for the strong hearted and a great view. On the last inches of the wall, where it ended and the view began, you could see names written through time. Couples, mostly. Boy and girl, and then the year. Some dated 10, 15 years back. I wondered if some of them were still together. The inside walls of the building was filled with information about the tower and towers in general. It lead me to the glass floor. 

To that moment, I still wasn't sure either I was afraid of heights or not. I decided that I was. The glass was enforced in a way that even if elephants were on top of it, it wouldn't break. Some guy was lying on it as his wife took a picture of his head aside of the ground, miles and miles down. Yet when I stepped on the glass, I made sure to put some pressure on it to see if it really wouldn't break. No chance in hell I'm standing here with my two feet, I thought and then I went to the Skypod. Now there, the highest tourists could go, I was impressed.

A very small circular area was destined for people to walk, while everything around us was Toronto and the lake. Whoever is walking down the street is a dot to you on the Skypod. Even the tallest skyscrapers seemed small, as if you were on a helicopter watching over the city. Except instead of the deafening noise, there was only the wind. You could see the waves on the lake. thing, uneven lines starting on the shore and going on and on. You are so faraway that you don't notice they are moving. The sunset made the water dark blue, the color of the ocean. Eventually one plane landed on the airport island. And then another. And to my other side, the North, there laid Toronto.

It was a holiday so all those important and signature-of-the-city-skyline buildings were empty. How many hundreds would go there to work within the next 24h? They go up and down and back home and from here you didn't even see it. Home. Not only everyone worked somewhere my eyes could see, they also lived somewhere down there. This is Toronto and this is all there is to it. I'd say it's as big as my eyes could see but close to the horizon there were trees and no more streets or buildings. That's where North started. But this is all Canada."

say it.

"The very act of human contact (a smile, a hug, a poke) is just so exhilarating. It's a miracle in the isolated worlds people live in. I don't want to waste it alone. I want to share it with whoever you are, probably waiting like I am, maybe crying like I am, pouring over books and just living as best you can. 

One day, perhaps, I'll see your face shining and your hair blowing from a force I'd swear allegiance to for the sake of friendship. Just to be with someone who is like a never-ending book, four-dimensional and beautiful for every flaw and trait.

Give and experience raw, unalloyed, agendaless kindness."

Creative Writing #1.

Então que eu estou fazendo um curso na Universidade de Toronto sobre Freelance Writing. Mais especificamente, Travel Writing. E eu gosto dos meus textos e vou postá-los aqui. Em inglês porque não tenho saco pra traduzir.

O primeiro é sobre, em parte, sair da minha casa, andar uma quadra e ir até o Café Aquários pra escrever.

"I need to write but there's no coffee. 

As I walked out of the hotel, I could sense the heaviness of the air. They sky was grey and white, either from smoke or clouds. I was just out of a steaming hot shower but after a couple of steps I felt I could use another one. This is not a complaint; the city seemed to be a reflection of myself. I always felt trouble when I had to write. The streets were full with of life but it didn't feel right. Maybe it was the paleness of colors or lack of smiles. I was hurrying through the business of downtown and suddenly I was at the cafe. 

The ring of the door made her look at me and by an exchange of looks she knew what I wanted. As I sat, I opened my notepad and took the pen out of my pocket. Anxious, I looked to my right. Through the glass wall, I saw cars, old men chatting and smoking, jaywalkers, the bank across the street, a man shining another's shoes while he flipped the pages of a newspaper. 

My deadline was tomorrow and I need to write. The coffee. I could sense her smiling as she laid the cup on my table and said something nice to which I didn't gave much thought. I thanked her, she left and I took a deep breath. The smell calmed me. I looked at my hand on the notepad, pen in place. And then I started writing."

a melhor música de 2009.

A melhor de 2008 tá aqui.