Thursday, August 27, 2009
“We walked down the path to the well-house, attracted by the fragrance of the honey-suckle with which it was covered. Someone was drawing water and my teacher placed my hand under the spout. As the cool stream gushed over one hand she spelled into the other the word water, first slowly, then rapidly. I stood still, my whole attention fixed upon the motions of her fingers. Suddenly I felt a misty consciousness as of something forgotten, a thrill of returning thought, and somehow the mystery of language was revealed to me.”
Helen immediately asked Anne for the name of the pump to be spelt on her hand and then the name of the trellis. All the way back to the house Helen learned the name of everything she touched and also asked for Anne’s name. Anne spelled the name “Teacher” on Helen’s hand. And that's what she would also become: A Master of her own destiny! She died on June, the first, 1968, peacefully, while she was sleeping. "No pessimist ever discovered the secret of the stars, or sailed an uncharted land, or opened a new doorway for the human spirit." Helen Keller
Eyes that love live not solitary!
No matter if a block was put,
She saw beyond the ordinary.
She could see with her eyes shut.
Monday, August 3, 2009
by Ana Antunes
"Geometry Of Designs"
Christy went from a normal to a paranormal life until the day she lost herself to become a victim of her shadows. As she steps in the deepest labyrinths of her own mind in a paralleled life, she becomes so obsessed with the things that orbitates around her daily events, that she deviates more and more from her own heart. That would cost her a price she never thought she would have to pay.
A Voyage into Another Dimension (A Science Faction)
If you make a point in the core of the cube, you create nine vertices from two pyramids that kiss each other: one looks up and sustains the other pointing south. They are in perfect balance for they both have their own basis but are joined by a common center. And that's the point I share with the readers who watch "The Nine Journeys in America" as if remembering a dream flight. A metaphor based upon human relationships and the search for the equilibrium inside the soul. It is about the shift of reality, when the life of the protagonist took a new dimension from being 3D and jumped to the Ninth Dimension, as if a cube inserted inside a cube inside another cube. If you add the numbers of vortices you arrive to 25 points which in turn adding 2 and 5 it arrives to seven (a sacred number.) The plot is based upon the reality of a life filled with exciting adventures. Nonetheless it has a touch of fiction and fantasy around the whole scenario (much for the purpose of leaving an open door for the reader's mind to wonder if this has all really happened...and then it all look so fantastic? But isn't life a dream more real than the dream we have awaken??)
It starts as a test and it ends up as an entire journey accomplished with much success, even though it was aborted, for the real mission was not to complete the journey but to absorb the quintessence impregnated in the whole process.
You can find this book Here
Flat Feet: An Autobiography of a Cosmic Dancer
This is a collection of Stories well distributed into Nine Parts, each containing an average of 15 pages, which I particularly developed by relating the stories with flying birds. In this book I write about Past Lives and about my Near Death Experience. In a variety of essays I tell how it all happened to me, and how it changed my life and transformed my entire being. Things that used to be so important got so less attention, and things that I didn't pay attention before now have essential values for me. I share some points of view while searching for a higher understanding of the Universe. The researches are so vast that they seem infinitesimal, every subject leading us to a much wider variety of endless subjects. Perhaps this is due to the vastness and complexity of our whole existence.
I dare to mix many beliefs, theories and experiences, in both a scientific and religious approach. Through a composition of dissertations, I do the best I can to make it readable, varying it from relaxing and rational to emotional, yet exciting explanatory principles. This book is about my own search for the truth, and a voyage to my self-discovery. I go to the light of it, to return to my own heart, my Home.
"Flat Feet" invites us to fly with this collection of memoirs and look upon a metaphysical way of living, with an entertaining and exotic travel throughout the feedbacks and many insights the book offers to us. My intent is to reunify Science and Religion, which I believe was once only One Truth, until the Medieval Age (The Age of Darkness) started to monopolize the truth to manipulate the masses. Then we passed through the Renascence and The Age of Enlightenment. Ideas started to pop up in our heads. Now, in our Modern Age (The Age of "Light" i.e. Electronics) we went from one extreme to another.
I look to my right, and I see Science. Some things I agree on, to what I say, Yes to other things, I would say. I'm not completely sceptical, neither am I an atheist. I want to believe. On the other hand, I am not a devotee. I look to my left, and I see a blind devotion, with no need to be explained. I need explanations. The way in the middle of both, the TAO, that's my Path. I look forward to what is ahead of me, examining the beauty of El Camino, but always making sure I'm not stepping into any other's shoes. I keep beholding the horizon in front, while directing my eyes to Eternity as I drink from the ethereal philosophy of Heaven from inside the wheel. In the middle of the turmoil, if you locate the eye of the hurricane and stay in the center you are safe. In the end you will see that life is no more no less than a dream made of pure poetry.
"I had a paralysis when I woke up. I wanted to move my body and it was entirely static. What a "fantastical" sensation! I couldn't move a finger. But this time I was not having a dream...
I dreamed of being in a place that pretty much resembled what we picture as Heaven. Actually it looked more like a faraway city in Mexico(although I had never been there in my physical state. Well, not at this lifetime, at least!) It also looked very familiar to me as if I lived there my whole being. There was a pyramid and I felt secure, as if I was home. People were so nice and the sunshine touched me in a very delicate way. I felt such peace!
(...)What about the Out-of-Body Experiment from sweet Clara at The Nutcracker?
Even Mickey Mouse had an Out-of-Body Experience. When he flies away from his body at the original Fantasia as the witch's pupil from the brilliant mind of Walt Disney. Before "Fantasia", in 1934's cartoon Gulliver Mickey, in a dream state leaves his sleeping body and takes flight. Of course, it is much easier for a cartoon, to make a paper drawing fly. He surely felt even lighter than he already was! It is a very common episode. Only that some just don't realize that we spend half of our lives in that state."
You can view more of this book Here
True Holy & Odd Story
"True Holy & Odd Story"- in a relaxed, funny account, this tale can captivate your eye reminding you of what it matters most when unexpected situations call for urgency: Love, Live and Heave!
This book is available Here
Fate or Faith?
A compiling of experiences in a compelling Memoir, a confession over troubled waters, and a reflection in English, Portuguese and Spanish upon a peregrination of thirteen days between Portugal and Spain. An invitation to join in a journey of a lifetime, a fair compound of an inspirational glare.
You can view the whole piece in the book "Fate or Faith?" Here
Cindy Laughter was a pretty sixteen-year-old girl who loved to sing and compose her own songs. Each time someone got closer to her she would start to sing as loud as she could.
But that was not only pretty annoying but also what seemed to be a case for a psychiatric treatment. At least, that was what her parents thought she needed, and what her younger brother felt she was: a nut case.
Everybody who knew her would just say about her: “She’s so unusual!!” And her response was usually, “I drove all night, I am just too tired for that.” Or she simply justified her own attitudes saying, “It’s hard to be me. I have enough of me to want to have you…I love to hate.” And sometimes when people tried really hard to be next to her she would just reply to them: “I don’t want to be your friend, that’s all.”
At school, Cindy was always ahead of her class. She had pretty good marks all of her years, and because she did so well with all her studies, and she was pretty good with all that she did, the teachers told her that she could be dismissed from the last tests which Cindy took as a gift for she felt very blessed to be able to dedicate most of her time into what seemed to be a promising career as a singer and composer.
“Oh, girls just wanna have fun!!” And she just laughed, making whoopee. All that she wanted was just to walk in the sun, to just have fun, sing and dance all day long and all along. She smiled all the way back home and even had one or two ideas to compose a happy song from rap music. She knew that some day she would fall into her dreams.
* * * * *
Is our destiny written in the stars? Are our lives a drawing of a major picture? Or do we play a major rule onto that? Are the changes and decisions that we make in life cosmically underlined in a U-turn? Are there invisible hands charting a map of our hearts? There are just too many questions to ask for our rescue. Is there a way to know it all?
You can view the whole piece in a book under the title "Cheat Chart" Preview Here
Divinations that can c®ook up your mind!
S-Key Use Me!
But I one Two Three Myself.
Fo(u)r Fiver Seizes on a Shelf,
S-even Ate Nin's elf
And tain't ill even Two elve(S)!
X-K-U S But(t) We One-T(w)o-Free Ourselves T(w)o X-Press On(e) Dancing!
This is neither Latin nor Greek, but a lot of freaky break-in-puzzlers that
I e-labor-ate (yummy!) to make you exercise your brain and make you crack
Would you MIND another exercise in this segment, for your brain cellules, to
keep them active? For a flexible mind don?t bend out of shape... So just
try to find the solution to diseng-age this problem cusS getting too o(l)dd:
1-The n(o)un and vi(er)b are about same age.
2-The vi(er)b is much older than the n(o)un.
3-The n(o)un is much older than the vi(er)b.
4-The vi(er)b is a little bit older than the n(o)un.
You can find more exercises to your body/mind/spirit on my book ?Dummy?s
DOW WorkIn&Out? I know time is a rare artefact in our busy scheduled lives. I
just want to ANA-ounce a peculiar pheno-moon-on:
A corroborant eminent event is imminent...Light the candles for Love surely IS in the Air... Go catch IT UP! If you cant, letting the gravity take you down, just relax then in a hammock with a Divination poem in your hands. For the "Divin' Action& Book of Poems, with One Hundred One Play-On-Words and Divinations hope(s) on the way of makin' you build a ham-mock of your lips and open a big smile over your cheeks:
She is a cool neat woman, so bright!
She is always ready to get into a fight.
She sings as one takes her clothes out right
And dances when she's ready to take a flight.
Just click on the cover of the book "Dive-In-Action" displayed above to get the answer... Or don't wait! Time is a precious gift. Pick-a-book from my desk on the link below and... Peek-a-Boo! Just read it... 'n get (a) real re(la)x... Rex!
The solution for the puzzler from ?Dummy?s DOW WorkIn&Out? shown
N(o)un of the alter-n actives.
Cheers! (No tears!)
And please, don't forget: There is always Time Enough...Just Play With (W)IT.
And then go and get it:
Dive In' Action
A On(e) Hun(t)re(a)d On(e) Play-On-Words, Poems and Divinations:
This is an original book
With a surprising hook.
Take it home or share with friends
From the beginning until the end.
Here are t(w)o brie(ea)f(th) quotations for pronunciation
practice and "fun'e-thiks" entertainment from the "Dummy's
DOW Work'In&Out Illustrated" Workbook.
This is a One-in-Two Action (on Intuition):
A (b) lad (e) has no strai (e) n (ght) if it's not pa (^t^)-em-pai(e)red
by a gree(a)t(n) f(l)ame.
Read More Here
Thank you so much to allow me to show my words/worlds, and to share my own experiences. I do have my limitations. I wished I were an angel, but I am a mere(?) human being. Especially because I cannot handle English as well as if I were dancing on my tiptoes, but true, I do have value. I do believe as I began Ballet with my flat feet I also can write with my flat English.
I can accomplish much with little: If God gave me a lemon, I would not only
make a lemonade but keep the seeds and plant new lemon trees. Instead of
crying for the lack of opportunities I take what I have and make them grow.
I see potential in each small thing. So I assure you that from the mostly latin
vocabulary that I use I can make it a good thing if you look into another
perspective; I do not have any vicious of language and no rigid style, I can
be reshaped any way you direct me to. You see, I'm very flexible (thanks to
my years of Ballet) and I can dance any music you play! I will dip into my
words, and? find my own voice", as a Senior Editor once suggested me to
But how am I supposed to my own voice expose and find,
if there are just so many characters also playing inside my mind?
I should give them expression and voice as well.
And write the stories they are eager to tell.
But there is a way I can easily access to my core,
and make a chorus in poetic lines flowing from each pore
It is when I sing that I give voice to my soul.
May I sing high, may I sing low.
Just the poor neighbors,
Who have to listen to my labors...
I've always loved to sing. I'm not a professional singer; in spite of all, I do my best! Hope I sing for you, and dance in your stage, and paint a beautiful picture of us together making a remarkable composition soon!
When you bear a cross, you hold a sword
Where IT lives in union, your soul.
If you cannot find your voice, your word
Find yourself in the myriads of what you sow.
And from there you may grow!
Once I was at the Heathrow Airport in London and the woman at the Customs Service started to throw an avalanche of questions at me. In the end, she asked me what my father did, and after hours standing up there and quite tired, I felt squeezed and inquised, "He is a liar", I responded to her inquiring face. Then she looked at me, astonished. Just then I realized what I had just said, "No, I mean, a lawyer, a lawyer!" I corrected. She stamped the maximum of time permission Visa on my passport. "With that English, girl, you cannot go so far!" She must have thought...But no! I had my head down and I was about to leave after apologizing for my awful English with my quite too strong Brazilian accent."You did pretty well!?" That's what she replied to me, after I felt like a pliable puppet.
When I was at school, my colleagues used to write on each other's diaries with anything they could think about their friendship. Every time those kinds of memories and souvenirs would reach out into my hands, I would write poems into them. I couldn't find any better way to write about my feelings than through the rhythms of flowing words as in poetry. Then, they would all dispute to who could get the best poem Ana Claudia would write for them, for each and every one I would write something different for I had different feelings and outlooks for and from them.
Then, I would notice that some liked my poems so much that they would actually copy them into another diary, of course without saying that it was written by me.
I was flattered, although I realized also that maybe they wouldnt think that I wrote them by myself and they thought I had just copied from someone else's work. Then, I would really feel flattered. But I was indeed really the day I showed my first book of poems to my mother, and I saw tears in her eyes. It was the first time that I remember touching my mothers feelings so deeply like that. It filled my heart with so much proud and poured my soul in pure ecstasy!
My first three poetries that I drafted with a pencil when I was seven (and I
still have the diary where I scratched on and worte the words down) were
Rare, Innocence and Rhyme. Here I transcribe them from my memory for I still
remember them by heart (as much as FROM the heart):
Rare: Little word
In a huge world.
Rare is You
The precious jewel
That is so true.
But without love
Rare has no value
Everyone gets the distance
From those with no instance.
Run, jump, and give us a turn,
Roll and make the floor burn.
Is it the happiness from the girl?
She jumps with her hair in curls.
With her hands, and hair
In the air?
Or is it the rhyme
That it is so fine
That is in the tip of her tongue,
So that she can make us a song?
He who has innocence is loved.
He who has innocence is gay.
He, who has not, always complains.
Innocence is searched above.
Innocence is searched below.
But for the ones who lost it
There is no return to post it.
That is what they do not know.
Maybe the innocence lies on each small look from a petit child who naively
wishes to be happy. And the idealism inhabits the wistful thoughts of those
who desirably fight and will never cease striving to bring happiness and
freedom to all. It?s simple as that morning walking contemplation of a
matutinal stroll by the sun in a candent candor from the beginning of summer
days at the shores of a roboranting beach city in the name of all Saints.
(Check out my book "Many Lives to Love...and The Eternity to Live"
with plenty of stories, one of them passed in a fructuous city called
Copyright © 2009 Ana Claudia Antunes. All rights reserved.