Friday, August 24, 2018

pistas para a SIMBIOSE referida no texto



 EXPO ESCULTURA | ... da essência humana

Ângelo Ribeiro | Castelo de Lamego

19 ago a 30 set 2018

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pistas para a SIMBIOSE referida no texto
















(fotos Jorge Cardoso)


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ABERTURA

ABERTURA OFICIAL | EXPO ESCULTURA
... da essência humana
Ângelo Ribeiro | Castelo de Lamego | 19 ago a 30 set 2018

...|...
















(fotos Jorge Cardoso)




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If You Want to be a Writer, You Need to be Fearless




WRITING

If You Want to be a Writer, You Need to be Fearless: Here’s Why

Be Fearless/Photo by Evan Kirby on Unsplash

EDITOR'S NOTE:

Christina Dalcher earned her doctorate in theoretical linguistics from Georgetown University. She specializes in the phonetics of sound change in Italian and British dialects and has taught at several universities. Her short stories and flash fiction appear in more than one hundred journals worldwide. Recognition includes the Bath Flash Award short list, nominations for the Pushcart Prize, and multiple other awards. She lives in Norfolk, Virginia, with her husband.
A quick Google search for ‘writing advice’ tells me there can’t be much left that hasn’t already been said. Nobel Prize winners offer tips. Forty experts tell beginners what to do. Bestselling authors give us insight into their creative processes. And so on, ad infinitum. Then there’s that perfect book, half craft, half writer’s memoir: Stephen King’s On Writing. If I could only have one how-to manual on my shelf, it would be that one.

BUY THE BOOK

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Where does this leave us, then? What guidance can I, a debut novelist and writer of flash fiction, possibly offer the world, or the emerging writer? I’ve thought about it over and over, and finally came up with two words:
Be fearless.
We know writing takes work, and skill, and talent, and perseverance. There’s the old ‘Butt-in-the-chair, honey!’ mandate (with its cute acronym) — a writer’s corollary to the athlete’s ‘Just Do It’ mantra. You want to run? Run. You want to write? Write. There’s something so plainly tautological about it all. And there can be beauty in tautologies."I think fearlessness is the single quality we as writers need to cultivate, and I mean this in multiple ways."TWEET THIS QUOTE
But I think fearlessness is the single quality we as writers need to cultivate, and I mean this in multiple ways. We need the bravery to pour our emotions out, spilling ink onto paper with a little of our own blood mixed in. That’s no small trick. We need the courage to send our words into the world, knowing that once we do, a part of us is gone, floating in the public sphere, no longer under our control. If one accepts Roland Barthes’ notion that the author is dead, we authors must embrace the concept that we’re killing some portion of ourselves the minute our work leaves us. And, of course, we need the self-esteem and thick, carapace-like skin to hang on and persist when the inevitable rejections hit our inboxes. Believe me, they will hit — hard. A bland form rejection from an agent or editor can carry all the pain of bludgeon to the face, a direct smack to our very soul. Everyone who writes, or who wants to write, requires a ring fighter’s determination, a Rocky-esque willingness to go the distance, and to keep going.
Being fearless also takes us in new directions, allowing us to experiment with previously unknown forms, new characters, and diverse points of view. One of my favorite things about writing flash fiction — tightly condensed stories often under 500 words — is exactly this: Within the space of a day, I can be a cranky old man on a front porch in Mississippi, a young housewife, or a sneaky feline. Fearlessness is a gift, a license to try something different and liberate ourselves from any habitual ruts. And it need not be limited to our writing lives. We can extend it to our whole lives: to our relationships with ourselves and others, to our careers (and the changing thereof), and to how we interact with the world.
Finally, we need to forge some armor of another sort — the kind that protects us from dissatisfied readers. It’s useful to remember that old John Lydgate saying about not being able to please everyone all of the time. Every once in a while, our words may not even reach the point of unpleasing, instead inspiring far less positive reactions. Still, they’re our words and our thoughts, and we have to steel ourselves against ugly feedback. (Hint: read your reviews, or not. Then go back to doing what you do.)
When I teach writing classes, the very first thing I tell my students is to prepare for rejection and failure. Both are going to happen, sometimes much more frequently than we’d wish. The rejection and failure aren’t the focus, though; it’s what we do afterwards that counts. And what we, as creators, should do afterwards is simple: get up and do it all over again.
Would I call myself fearless? Would I use that label? I don’t know; I haven’t walked through the world with a superhero cape on my back. I do know that others have said this about me, starting with my first professor in graduate school twenty years ago. That man is gone now, and I can’t pick up the phone and say, “Hey, guess what? I believe you.” So instead, I write, a little or a lot every day, and try to live up to the descriptor. I try to fear nothing, even when that seems impossible.
Maybe you were expecting a writer’s user manual. A list of do’s and don’ts full of perennial tips like ‘show, don’t tell’ and ‘avoid adverbs.’ Something along those lines. But the best advice I can give, and — in my mind — the only advice worth its salt, is encapsulated in two words.
Be fearless.
Then sit back and watch what happens. I have a feeling what happens will be good.

George Orwell’s Six Rules for Writing Clear and Tight Prose




George Orwell’s Six Rules for Writing Clear and Tight Prose

orwell writing rules
Most everyone who knows the work of George Orwell knows his 1946 essay “Politics and the English Language” (published here), in which he rails against careless, confusing, and unclear prose. “Our civilization is decadent,” he argues, “and our language… must inevitably share in the general collapse.” The examples Orwell quotes are all guilty in various ways of “staleness of imagery” and “lack of precision.”


Ultimately, Orwell claims, bad writing results from corrupt thinking, and often attempts to make palatable corrupt acts: “Political speech and writing are largely the defense of the indefensible.” His examples of colonialism, forced deportations, and bombing campaigns find ready analogues in our own time. Pay attention to how the next article, interview, or book you read uses language “favorable to political conformity” to soften terrible things.
Orwell’s analysis identifies several culprits that obscure meaning and lead to whole paragraphs of bombastic, empty prose:
Dying metaphors: essentially clichés, which “have lost all evocative power and are merely used because they save people the trouble of inventing phrases for themselves.”
Operators or verbal false limbs: these are the wordy, awkward constructions in place of a single, simple word. Some examples he gives include “exhibit a tendency to,” “serve the purpose of,” "play a leading part in,” “have the effect of.” (One particular peeve of mine when I taught English composition was the phrase “due to the fact that” for the far simpler “because.”)
Pretentious diction: Orwell identifies a number of words he says “are used to dress up a simple statement and give an air of scientific impartiality to biased judgments.” He also includes in this category “jargon peculiar to Marxist writing” (“petty bourgeois,” “lackey,” “flunkey,” “hyena”).
Meaningless words: Abstractions, such as “romantic,” “plastic,” “values,” “human,” “sentimental,” etc. used “in the sense that they not only do not point to any discoverable object, but are hardly ever expected to do so by the reader.” Orwell also damns such political buzzwords as “democracy,” “socialism,” “freedom,” “patriotic,” “justice,” and “fascism," since they each have “several different meanings which cannot be reconciled with one another.”
Most readers of Orwell’s essay inevitably point out that Orwell himself has committed some of the faults he finds in others, but will also, with some introspection, find those same faults in their own writing. Anyone who writes in an institutional context—be it academia, journalism, or the corporate world—acquires all sorts of bad habits that must be broken with deliberate intent. “The process” of learning bad writing habits “is reversible” Orwell promises, “if one is willing to take the necessary trouble.” How should we proceed? These are the rules Orwell suggests:
(i) Never use a metaphor, simile, or other figure of speech which you are used to seeing in print.
(ii) Never use a long word where a short one will do.
(iii) If it is possible to cut a word out, always cut it out.
(iv) Never use the passive where you can use the active.
(v) Never use a foreign phrase, a scientific word, or a jargon word if you can think of an everyday English equivalent.
(vi) Break any of these rules sooner than say anything outright barbarous.
What constitutes “outright barbarous” wording he does not say, exactly. As the internet cliché has it: Your Mileage May Vary. You may find creative ways to break these rules without thereby being obscure or justifying mass murder.
But Orwell does preface his guidelines with some very sound advice: “Probably it is better to put off using words as long as possible and get one’s meaning as clear as one can through pictures and sensations. Afterward one can choose—not simply accept—the phrases that will best cover the meaning.” Not only does this practice get us closer to using clear, specific, concrete language, but it results in writing that grounds our readers in the sensory world we all share to some degree, rather than the airy word of abstract thought and belief that we don’t.
These “elementary” rules do not cover “the literary use of language,” writes Orwell, “but merely language as an instrument for expressing and not for concealing or preventing thought.” In the seventy years since his essay, the quality of English prose has likely not improved, but our ready access to writing guides of all kinds has. Those who care about clarity of thought and responsible use of rhetoric would do well to consult them often, and to read, or re-read, Orwell’s essay.
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Josh Jones is a writer and musician based in Durham, NC. Follow him at @jdmagness

What is Europe? Views from Asia




The First Art Newspaper on the Net Established in 1996Friday, August 24, 2018
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British Museum opens new display What is Europe? Views from Asia

Prince Arthur of Connaught offering the Order of the Garter to the Meiji Emperor . Japan 1906. © the Trustees of the British Museum.

LONDON.- This focussed exhibition explores perceptions of Europe through specially chosen objects from Japan, China and South Asia. The new Asahi Shimbun Display, What is Europe? Views from Asia features objects that illustrate encounters between Europe and Asia from the 18th to the 20th century. Each of the thirteen objects on show has a unique story and reveals that this engagement was far more nuanced than has often been presented. Western perspective was adopted by many Asian painters and printmakers, and techniques such as etching were learned from printed European manuals in Japan. This display demonstrates the influence of European art through the display of a work by German expressionist Käthe Kollwitz. This print shows two men pulling a plough and clearly inspired the woodblock print on display by Chinese artist Li Hua that depicts the same theme. Kollwitz’s prints were introduced in China through a work by leading literary figure Lu Xun. Only 50 copies of this insightful and rare ... More



British Museum opens new display What is Europe? Views from Asia
Käthe Kollwitz (1867 – 1945). Plough-pullers and a Woman. 1902. © the Trustees of the British Museum.


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LONDON.- This focussed exhibition explores perceptions of Europe through specially chosen objects from Japan, China and South Asia. The new Asahi Shimbun Display, What is Europe? Views from Asia features objects that illustrate encounters between Europe and Asia from the 18th to the 20th century. Each of the thirteen objects on show has a unique story and reveals that this engagement was far more nuanced than has often been presented.

Western perspective was adopted by many Asian painters and printmakers, and techniques such as etching were learned from printed European manuals in Japan. This display demonstrates the influence of European art through the display of a work by German expressionist Käthe Kollwitz. This print shows two men pulling a plough and clearly inspired the woodblock print on display by Chinese artist Li Hua that depicts the same theme. Kollwitz’s prints were introduced in China through a work by leading literary figure Lu Xun. Only 50 copies of this insightful and rare volume were published, and the British Museum holds a copy in its collection.

Other objects reveal a more dissenting adoption of European styles to communicate ideas and agendas that were specific to the local regions. For hundreds of years porcelain figures of Guanyin (Kannon) and child were made for Buddhist devotion in China and Japan. Between the 18th and 21st centuries, these Blanc de Chine figures transformed Guanyin into a Madonna, under the guise of appealing to European markets. However, these figures served another purpose as Christianity was forbidden in Japan between 1587 to 1859, and so ‘hidden’ Christians were able to worship ‘Maria Kannon’ sculptures such as these.
Sponsored by Connatix


This show also presents objects that reveal resentment and fear inspired by European political and religious incursions. Several works of popular culture mocked European powers outright, such as a 1943 wartime manga magazine representing Winston Churchill. An earlier print by Kobayashi Kiyochika (1847–1915) ridicules the Russian Navy during the Russo-Japanese War of 1904-5, describing them as ‘aimless boats’. Japan’s victory in the Battle of Tsushima was the first major instance in the modern era of an Asian country defeating a European one. This triumph stimulated nationalist movements across Asia, where colonial powers still controlled large territories.

At the heart of this display stands the striking Nicobar hentakoi board that was deemed to possess protective and healing powers. The Nicobar Islands were colonised by the Danes in 1756 who then sold them to the British in 1869. After India became independent from British rule in 1947, the Islands became a union territory of India. This highly detailed object sheds light on the complex response to European trade and power relations, as demonstrated by the selective adoption of European symbols and images. This includes both local and European objects, deemed valuable and symbolically powerful. The central deity in the top register is accompanied by a compass, watch and chronometer. On a lower register, a Nicobarese boat is joined by a European vessel as well as a Chinese sailing ship. Nearby the hentakoi stands a kareau—a protective figure-- wearing a European pith helmet.

The transnational focus of this show harnesses objects to reveal diverse worldviews, recognising that, as today, Europe was viewed from many backgrounds and sight lines. Visitor responses will also be central to this Asahi Shimbun Display. When they enter the space visitors will be invited to answer the following question: ‘What does Europe mean to you?’ A selection of answers, in multiple languages, will be projected onto the walls of the gallery space each week, their voices forming part of the collage of perspectives on display.