- Originalmente publicado em Dezembro de 2017 noutro blog.
- English translation bellow
Após anos de perguntas, ou melhor, de ouvir a mesma pergunta, eis a melhor frase que encontrei para os descrever.
Estes textos servirão, para alem de descrever o meu trajecto, para eu própria conseguir ligar todos estes fragmentos da memória e me perceber melhor.
Na escola primária, ainda num dos primeiros dias do 1º ou 2º ano, foi-nos pedido para fazer um desenho. Lembro-me de pensar que não queria desenhar algo existente, mas não dos pensamentos específicos da minha eu de 6 ou 7 anos. Fiz umas bolas amarelas e cor de rosa, alternadas entre linhas onduladas. Gostei de o fazer, mas apesar de tudo, nas restantes aulas, continuei a desenhar bonecos de palito como as outras crianças. Curiosamente, o combo de amarelo / rosa é dos que mais repugno agora.
Por volta dessa altura, estive internada algum tempo no Hospital de Estefânia. Já não me lembro o porquê, mas andava com dores horrendas nos ouvidos. Antes de ser operada a alguma coisa, ou a fazer algum exame, puseram-me algo na mão, e mandaram-me mexer os dedos para fazer desenhos. Não eram desenhos. Eram umas linhas que apareciam numa máquina qualquer. Não sei os termos médicos. Percebi que aquelas linhas, fossem o que fossem, representavam algo que se passava no meu corpo, e achei interessante. De inicio, tentei desenhar árvores. Falhei, obviamente. Eram antes montanhas angulosas.
Foi ainda na escola primária, após a mudança para o Alentejo, que comecei a desenvolver este estilo de desenho, ou como lhes chamava, rabiscos, por assim o serem. No 3º ou 4º ano, foi-nos pedido que escrevêssemos os números romanos de I a M (1 a 1000). Como era competitiva, comecei a levar o meu caderno comigo para o refeitório na hora de almoço, e lá escrevia. Tornou-se num hábito. Um dia, talvez após terminar, tive a ideia de usar o meu lápis, para rabiscar num guardanapo. Não me lembro se estava lá o caderno ou não para antes desenhar nele. Não guardei desenho, mas mostrei-o aos meus colegas e professores. Era nada mas via algo naquilo. Não eram bonequinhos e árvoresinhas que costumávamos desenhar na sala de aula, nem colorido como as canetas escolares baratas. Era um rabisco, num guardanapo, feito com o mais comum lápis de grafite, que na altura achava chamar-se “de carvão”. No entanto, até ao resto da primária, usava mais as canetas de feltro, de qualquer cor.
Comecei a desenhar mais intensivamente a partir do 2º ciclo, a altura negra da minha vida. Comecei a usar mais a grafite. Começaram-me a perguntar o porquê de não usar cor. Na altura ficava confusa. Não conseguia ver o Branco, Preto e o espectro de cinzentos como algo diferente de “cor”. O meu gosto por esta monocromia talvez venha da mãe. Ela sempre adorou fotografia a preto e branco, e tem várias espalhadas pela casa. Tenho uma vaga memória do professor de Educação Física me perguntar porque é que não fazia desenhos normais. Sinceramente, nunca percebi o significado dessa palavra.
Apesar de desenhar todos os dias na escola, no fim do o 6º ano, deitei-os todos fora, nem os mostrei a ninguém. Lembro-me bem da noite em que deitei tudo para os sacos pretos do lixo. Foi uma época má, e se dela guardei alguma coisa, foi sem querer. Por isso é difícil falar do que fazia na altura. Não os tenho, e são agora pó, como será tudo.
English translation.
“Abstract Art as my Expression – Text 1″*
- Originally published December 2017 on another blog. Translation notes at the end.
- This text is the start of a series on the development of my art process. I tried to be as faithful to the original meaning as possible. Corrections on grammar or vocabulary are welcomed, as well as to the translation itself.
After years of questions, or better yet, of being asked the same question, here is the best phrase I thought of to describe them.* (Translation note: This refers to the original portuguese of this series title which in a not at all professional translation would be something like “My Abstract Drawings are a way to vent” – venting as in expressing inner thoughts and feelings.
These texts will have the purpose of not only describe my art path but also for me to be able to better deal with all these memory fragments and to understand myself better.
Once, in primary school, in one of the first days of the first or 2nd grade, we were asked do make a drawing. I don’t remember the specific thoughts of 6 and 7 year old me but I do remember thinking I didn’t want to draw something that existed. I did some yellow and pink colored circles, alternating between wavy lines. Even though I liked doing it, the following classes I kept drawing stick figures like the other children. Curiously, I do not like the combination of yellow and pink now, and it’s one of my least favourites.
Around that time, I was hospitalized at Queen Stephanie’s Hospital (Lisbon). I actually don’t remember why, but I was suffering some really horrendous ears pain. Before I was operated for whatever that was or while doing an exam, they put something on my hand and told me to move my fingers to make drawings. They weren’t drawings, but some lines that showed up on a machine. I don’t know the medical terms. I understood that those lines, whatever they were, were a representation of something that was happening on my body and thought it was interesting, although in the beginning I tried to draw trees (I failed, obviously – they were instead mountains).
It was still during primary, after moving to Alentejo, that I started developing this drawing style, or, as I called them, doodles (as they were). During 3rd or 4th grade we were asked to write the roman numbers from I to M (1 to 1000). I was a competitive child so I started bringing my notebook with me to lunch time, and I’d too write there. It became an habit. One day, maybe after finishing, I had the idea of using my pencil to draw on a napkin. I don’t remember if I had my notebook there or not to draw on it instead. I didn’t keep the drawing, but I showed it to my classmates and teachers. It was kind of nothing but I saw something on it. They weren’t stick figures or the little trees we used to draw in class and it wasn’t colored either like the cheap school pens we had. It was a doodle, on a napkin, made with the most common graphite pencil that I thought was called “charcoal”**. Until the end of primary school, I’d more commonly doodle with felt tip pens, of any color.
I started drawing more intensively starting 5th grade, the dark era of my life. I started using graphite more. People started asking me why I didn’t use color. This question used to got me confused. I could not see White, Black, or any spectrum of Greys as anything different from “color”. My taste for this monochromy might come from my mother. She always loved black and white photography, and has many of it around the house. I have the fragment of a memory of then the physical education teacher asked me why I didn’t do normal drawings. Quite sincerely, I never understood the meaning of that word.
Even thought I’d draw every day on school, at the end of 6th grade, I threw them away, and didn’t show them anyone. I still remember the night I threw everything in black trash bags. It was a bad time for me, and if of it I kept anything it wasn’t intentional. This is why it’s hard to talk about what I used to do back then. I don’t have them and they are now dust, as everything shall become.
[Translation notes:
* The title translation is not as faithful as it could be. I am unsure on how to translate “desabafo” as I’ve used “vent” in the definition of “to give often vigorous or emotional expression to” (merriam-webster) but the general use of the word as referring to ventilation makes me unsure if this is as directly comprehensible as the original. I said “My Abstract drawings are ‘Desabafos'”. “Desabafo” (with an “s” when plural) is a noun and is not necessarily vigorous and can be simply translated as “The act of saying what we feel” while usually to relieve ourselves of an emotional burden.
** In Portugal, outside art and education circles, it’s very common to hear people say “Charcoal pencil” when referring to a “Graphite pencil” even though they are different materials. The word “graphite” seems to be less known and used by the general population]
Lua Eva Blue 
