Paving future's slopes with spray paint

After a short bushwalk in Bold Park with my older son, I crossed ways with these young spray-paint artists, who were redecorating the slopes of the Perry Lakes skate facilities. While enjoying the last few summer-like days of Perth’s Autumn, they were following some general sketches from a few pieces of paper here and there, but pretty much pushing each other towards improvising most of the colorful images that sprouted up and down the slopes of the skate bowl.

In a constructive initiative sponsored by the Cambridge Youth Centre, these young, creative people were literally paving the way for dozens of other youngsters, from all younger and older age groups, who would be criss-crossing the skate bowl throughout the next few months to come. Fueled by something that sounded like The Kills, shouting off a portable hi-fi, and by the pleasant warmth of a quiet Tuesday morning, they were creating a mosaic of images and ideas that would certainly keep future users of the facility motivated, and more than likely in a positive state of mind that will unfold the fun these young artists were having this morning, into the near future.

Photos (C) JH Alves.

I Pick up my guitar and play, just like yesterday

I've spent the last couple of years trying to find my way back into music, after a voluntary leave, consequence of deciding to bring together, and set the foundations of a family. The effort paid off, in the sense that now my younger one, who turns three in two months, has decided he wants to pick up an ukelele I bought on a recent trip to Hawaii, every time I get my guitar or bass to practice a little. Also, our older son, who is autistic, also quiets down or comes and sits beside me, plucking interestedly some strings, particularly when I plug in the bass for a practice session. (I don't really want more proof of a healthy/happy family than a three-year old so enthusiastic about music, and an autistic boy that interacts so nicely when music is in the air!)

The fact is that, despite some rather random but fulfilling episodes of practice, the stream of musicianship, which seemed to flow so easily in past years of my life, had apparently left me. The mental image that I usually cultivated, to cheer up whenever I felt lost the musical flow from sight, was that of some Dr. Evil commanding Fat Bastard to extract the mojo from a frozen Austin Powers. I eventually decided that my Dr. Evil, mojo sucker, was the lack of a local community of amateur musicians in Perth that I could join in a musical journey, like I so pleasantly had done before, a few years back, in Washington, DC.

A change of airs suddenly happened, as serendipity kicked in, a few weeks back. A few friends invited me and my wife to a concert where a new Brazilian jazz band would be playing, featuring a singer from Sao Paulo who had recently moved to Perth with her family. At the gig, we met the singer, and spoke a little. A week later, she came to our house with the whole family for lunch, and while the kids engaged quickly in a bi-lingual play in the backyard, I picked up my nylon-string guitar, and we had a go at a few songs. The connection was all there, and I suddenly felt things were flowing again.

A few phone calls and we decided we would try to set up a repertoire for a duo, with an eye at later bringing into scene a percussionist as well. So far we've arranged some 30 songs, and found out the shared pleasure of mixing Brazilian rhythms and songs with pop hits, as we did last night in a medley conecting The Police's "Every breath you take" with Jorge Benjor's "Ive Brussel". Maybe soon I'll post a recording to intensify and spread this new, liberating flow of music that we have discovered in Perth.

For the last two weeks, I've been reliving the same liberating feelings I had when, at 13, I was taught how to play the guitar in military school by a friend, now bassist of Rio de Janeiro's Farofa Carioca. The flow has suddenly risen from the undergrounds of my soul, to reach higher peaks of creativity. Perhaps this is a consequence of still another dimension of music's connecting power, as I now feel I am once more a small, but intense, part of a stream of musicians, present and past, who have lived and sung the liberating and reassuring powers of playing the acoustic guitar, which I rediscovered, is one of man's best friend.

While thinking about writing this post last night, serendipity once again made me bump into a video that translates much of the feelings I describe above, of how liberating and pleasant an instrument as simple/humble as an acoustic guitar can be. In the video, young and unbelievably energetic Brazilian singer Ana Cañas playfully sings while Liminha, the great Brazilian producer and one of my favorite and inspiring musicians of all times, gets loose on the guitar, liberating a lot of interesting creatures and micro universes via his live interactivity with Ana (check, at the end of the video, a great version for Gilberto Gil's "Chuckberry fields forever").

Thoughts lead to a multitude of other thoughts and memories. Here are some other things that came to mind, connecting my rediscovering the guitar with other musicians and their instruments, and to the flow out there:

• A guitar outsourcing reassurance and power to a shy man.
• BB King's Lucille.
• I pick up my guitar and play, just like yesterday.
  
• Geraldo Vandre harnessing the powers of the masses with his guitar.
• Sergio Ricardo using his guitar to liberate his frustration.
• Jimmy's kiss, then sacrifice.