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Waiting rooms used to be true oases for reading. Arranged on coffee tables or piled on baskets in the corner of the room, it was always possible to find some type of reading offered to the patient. The choice was vast: from old magazines, information leaflets and even, in some cases, comic books. I have used all of these items at some point of my life, but my favorite way to wait for my turn at a doctor or dentist appointment has always been to use a book brought from home.

At the moment, I am reading the fourth volume of In Search of Lost Time, by Marcel Proust in a big, heavy edition and every time I leave the house I think about whether or not it is really worth carrying it in my bag. That day I had an appointment with a doctor who usually has a full office, so I thought it would be worth carrying the extra weight to catch up on my reading. It did not take long for me to realize I was wrong

Firstly, I reached into my bag to pick up the heavy volume. The weight of it was somehow comforting – a physical reminder of the vast, intricate world that awaited me within its pages, but I soon realized that the serene reading experience I craved could no longer be replicated and the reason was quite simple:smartphones. They turned reading in the waiting room into a journey of its own, amidst people frantically sending and receiving text messages (without bothering to turn off the sound of the keys first) and audio messages. Headphones? Of course not! Afteral, why bother?

The naturalization of the lack of education represented by the neurotic way in which people interact with their smartphones seems to me to be a gigantic loss of civilization and this is also reflected in the way common spaces (such as office waiting rooms) are divided. It often feels as though individuals are making a concerted effort to ignore one another, further emphasizing the disconnection and alienation that permeate modern social interactions.

In the fast-paced and technologically driven world we live in, it is becoming increasingly common to observe individuals engrossed in their own digital worlds, often at the expense of meaningful face-to-face interactions. The pervasiveness of technology in our daily lives has undoubtedly revolutionized the way we communicate and connect, yet it has also led to a noticeable shift in how we interact with one another.

The allure of constant connectivity through social media, messaging apps, and digital entertainment has created a paradoxical situation where we are simultaneously more connected and yet more disconnected than ever before. This begs the question: How can we bridge the gap between the virtual and the real, fostering genuine human connections while navigating the influence of technology on our shared spaces?

The overuse of technology in everyday life has indeed sparked a debate that often draws parallels to nostalgia, portrayed as an idyllic yearning for an “analogous paradise” of the past. While it is undeniable that technology has brought about numerous positive impacts, it is equally undeniable that it has led to the loss of certain elements, including the decline of small reading retreats.

This shift in our lifestyles has prompted reflections on the trade-offs involved in our increasing reliance on technology and the potential consequences for facets of life that were once cherished, such as quality, silent time.

By disregarding the importance of silence in our lives, we avoid experiencing moments of introspection, which are fundamental to the human psyche. For those who work with the arts, the loss is even greater, as every creation goes through a moment of introspective observation and needs silence to flourish.

Silence provides a sanctuary for the mind to wander freely, making room for creative thoughts to germinate and grow. It is within the tranquil embrace of silence that artists find the inspiration to breathe life into their creations, crafting symphonies, paintings, and prose with unparalleled depth and emotion.

In the absence of silence, the frantic noise of the world drowns out the delicate whispers of creativity, stifling its evolution and robbing it of its true potential. Therefore, embracing silence is not merely a choice, but a necessity for those who seek to nurture the boundless expanse of their artistic expression.

For the human spirit, silence serves as a haven amidst the bustling cacophony of life, offering a moment of respite, reflection, and restoration. It is in these silent interludes that we decipher the intricate complexities of our existence, finding solace in the tranquil whispers of our innermost thoughts.

In essence, silence is not the absence of sound, but rather the presence of infinite possibilities waiting to be explored and unraveled. It is the canvas upon which the human soul paints its most profound revelations and unveils the truth that lies at the core of our being, paving the way for self-discovery. An experience that no app can provide.

Be seeing you!

G.F.

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Three years ago I started the Red Flower Press. Back then, I did not really know what I wanted to do with this space and, to be, as usual, very honest with you, this is always an issue for me, when I start writing.

“What do you want?”, I keep asking myself. Blogs are so ove! Noboby read them anymore, says the voice in my head. And yet., I keep writing my weekly music-related experiences. Why? Basically, because I want to tell you something, but have I really? Ever?

“Sure”, you will say, but I cannot trust you. Why? Because you are too kind, that is why! I need some unbiased evaluation made by the most unparcial judge: time. So, let us celebrate the third anniversary of The Red Flower Press by taking a look to what we have done so far.

Since Januay 15th, 2021 I have delivered over one hundred and forty chronicles. From the name of the page (reference to an episode of The Simpsons) to the farewell catchphrase (borrowed from the series The Prisoner), this space has always been my playground, the place where I spread my toys, so to speak.

Once a week I visit my playground. It is my place, my little house in the immense forest of the world wide web, my backyard. Here I talk freely about all the areas to which I can add something, such as literature, visual arts and, of course, music, which acts as a glue that holds these universes together.

Glue? Um… no, glue might not be the right term. Allow me to rephrase it: music is the thread that unites the different patterns. The final result? A patchwork quilt called Red Flower Press. Make yourself cozy and enjoy the reading!

I have carefully selected a very personal top-ten list. It includes some of the most interesting patterns created over these three years:

  1. The normal, the weird and the grand: Embracing uniqueness can be rewarding. Who needs normal when you can have grand? Expression is key.
  2. Perseverance will take you everywhere: The landing of the Perseverance on Mars landing evokes pride in human achievements, yet prompts questioning of human behavior during the pandemic.
  3. Made of gold: Do you have in your life someone, who is so important that is worth her/his weight in gold? Time for a family story.
  4. More intelligence? Ask me how: When was the last time you learned something new?
  5. Big mouth and the time machine: Hop on the time machine! (A reminder of authenticity and self-recognition.)
  6. Ugly Duckling and Superman: Family matters and other complex stuff
  7. Resumes, popcorn and champagne: What does your resume tell about you?
  8. Changing of the guard?: Pressure to work, scarce leisure, and the illusion of democratized fame challenge our digital reality.
  9. Not impressed: Reflections on the modern obsession with dazzling concert presentations. Has music been degraded to mere entertainment and overshadowed by visual spectacles in the age of social media?
  10. A Christmas present from the past: My dad, the unlikely hero

Last but not least, I would like to thank you immensily for your company. It is the nurture that keeps our beloved Red Flower always thriving. Long live you! Long live the Red Flower Press!

Be seeing you!

G.F.

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I just had the experience of spending almost two days completely without electricity and internet access, plus three hours under a very unstable power supply, the kind that its great for your household appliances, if your intention is to burn them.

As you can imagine, this is an unpleasant situation. At any temperature. Now, let your imagination soar and dream yourself experiencing it in the middle of a heat wave. How hot? We are talking about temperatures around thirty-five degrees Celsius, twenty-four hours a day. Yes, even in the early hours of the morning.

And if you sweat just thinking about this degree of heat, know that you are on the right path to have a vague idea of what I went through. No fan, no air conditioning, no garden. However, just like any extreme situation, trying not to lose your head (and, if possible also your mind) is at the same time, the biggest challenge and your only way out.

Establishing a minimum comfort zone is essential to gather strength. And how to do this? For me, first of all, it involves determining whether the basics for immediate survival (can I breathe, despite the heat? do I have enough cold, fresh water to drink? Opening the refrigerator door and not letting the hot outside air in should always be the last option.

Once this minimum zone of confort is assured, you have to look for something positive (or the least worst), something that allows you to say “but” (everything seems to be going wrong, but…). In my case, this small comfort is the silence in which the street seems to immerse, when there is no electricity.

The soundless world that can erupt from even the noisiest neighborhoods when people are deprived of electricity is simply fascinating. One could say that it is comparable to the calm of rainy days, during which the sound of drops seems to drown out everything so that we can better appreciate the orchestra of nature, but nights without electricity in the city offer an even deeper immersion in silence.

After some time in the dark, the voices and noises become more sparse, weaker, until they stop completely. It is as if, deprived of the light, we went back in time and shared the same fears that the first of us felt. Perhaps silence reminds us that we are, each and every one of us, very weak little creatures and we feel afraid, when we do not have fire, lights and all the other shiny objects we surround ourselves with to entertain us from the anguish at the nothingness that we are. It can be pretty hard to face that you are just a human being.

As for myself, I tried to overcome the problem by reconnecting with my natural biological cycle: I slept as soon as it got dark and got up when the sun rose, in order to make the most of the daylight. And when the computer battery ran out, I cooked, organized the wardrobe, separated clothes for donation and read for hours. It was detoxifying and quite calming.

Embracing silence may be a way to cope when you yourself have to face soundless, fearful days.

Be seeing you!

G.F.

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Forget the stress of the end of the year, the hardest week of all is actually the first week of January. Why?, you ask yourself in surprise. Think about all the resolutions you have made in the last weeks, in the last days, until the vry last hours of the previous year. Do you realize your responsibility?

Yes, I know that many of them were linked to long-term action plans and naturally could not all be fulfilled in a single week, but the first week of the year will be decisive whether at least half of those long-term plans will ultimately be implemented or forgotten by, let us say, middle April. Do you realize the importance of the decisions you make in this decisive week? Well, now you do.

So, while writing this lines to you, I am also pretty much awaere and therefore worried about what I am saying to myself. How to convince me that all that hard work making lists, resolutions and sending wishes to the universe would not be in vain?

So sorry to alert you to another problem in your life that you were not even aware of until now. However, fear not, because I also have the solution! Actually, it came in the form of a message printed on a t-shirt and it said: Dream. Plan. Do.

The perfect protocol to make our year-end resolutions come true. Pure genious! Just three words, but look at their synthesis capacity:


1.Dream: The first step of the journey, where the magic happens. There are no limits here. What projects touch your soul? This is where they can rise and shine!

2.Plan: At this point, you might think: “Now is when the fun is gone, the hard work comes in and the resolutions fly out the window”, but I would rather say that now is the time when we take off the glitter of our dreams and put sneakers on them. The path can be long and exhausting, but it can also be a form of training, a reconnaissance of the terrain, a rite of passage, if you will. It is in the planning stage that many of our dreams come up against mundane limits, such as financing and accountability. Fragile dreams tend to succumb. Make sure your dreams are strong and mature enough to continue the journey.

3.Do: Show time! Bye-bye, sneakers and hello high heels! It is time to perform, taking the risks that any initiative implies. It is scary, it is stressful, there are butterflies in your stomach, but you know you are doing what you have to do, because you are doing your thing. Regardless of the results, you were true to the promises you made to yourself. You won, honey!

What happens next? Probably by that time you will be involved in new resolutions, and the game starts all over again. That is okay. It means you are not only living, you are also evolving.

Be seeing you!

G.F.

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Every year I go out to buy material to wrap Christmas presents: paper, bags, ribbons. I return home, open the drawer where the remains of what I bought the previous year are, and only then I remember that there were enough leftovers.

In a sort of déjà vu experience, I also remember that last year I had promised myself to check that drawer before buying anything. And the year before that. Some people call it the magic of Christmas. I believe the technical name is Christmas amnesia.

I know that reactions to the end of the year and the holiday season are diverse: some people love it, some people hate it, but the real difficult thing is to remain indifferent to all the turmoil around us. Ever tried? I try every year and fail. Miserably.

The commitments seem to multiply, and they may turn into a source of anxiety and stress, but sometimes they hold a truly “Christmas spirit”. This year, one of them brought me immense joy. My mother had insisted on having a pre-Christmas gathering at her house, so that she could show off the Christmas home decorations created by my sister. Despite the heat wave, it was a very pleasant afternoon.

Among the many subjects discussed and left along the way, one story stood out: we talked about the period of the military dictatorship in Brazil (1964-1984), a dark period that we have not yet overcome. At this point, my mother said that my father, at the time a high-ranking state civil servant, was given the task of denouncing possible opponents to the regime.

There was no way out: if he refused, he would himself be considered an opponent of the system (which at the time meant possible arrest, imprisonment, torture and death or, at best, exile); if he accepted, he would be forced to inform on colleagues. How to get out of this moral impasse?

With pride, my mother recounted the ingenious solution found by my father: in all cases he wrote after the nema of the employee: “to date, nothing has been found to be discreditable about this person”. The task was accomplished and, at the same time, no one was denounced. Including the term “to date” also saved him in case of any future problems.

My father died when I was nine years old, after a two-year long period of degenerative illness. As you can imagine, I did not have much time to hear his stories in person, but knowing that he was an unlikely hero in a period of terror was a great emotion. In fact, it was like being able to hug him again.

I know this is often the season of hoping for the future and exchanging presents, but sometimes the best gift is in the past. Feliz Natal!

Be seeing you!

G.F.