Writing for an Audience or Something Like That

Writing gives you the illusion of control, and then you realize it's just an illusion, that people are going to bring their own stuff into it. -- David Sedarus

This has been an interesting week for communication and failure to communicate. I have shared my writing with several individuals and found that where I was going with a piece or a scene was not necessarily where my reader found themselves.

One wonders, I wonder, how much of my stories are going to be transmitted as they are in my brain and how much will just be fodder for the fantasies and mindscape of a reader. For instance, I told three people the same story with four parts. I was clear that the writing was true but not accurate. This literary genre being variously called: non-fiction fiction, nearly fiction, or the old artistic license. As Mark Twain is said to have said:

The difference between fiction and non-fiction is that fiction must be absolutely believable.

So I told the four part story to the three people and each found some part believable as fact or at least non-fiction. However, each listener found different combinations of fiction versus non-fiction in the elements of my tale. Apparently we decide which is right and which is an illusion.

Which leads me to another strange discovery on the subject of the written word. Being back in a stable environment, meaning I am going to be here for a time measured in months not days, perhaps even years not months. Being in such a place, I have launched myself onto an internet dating site or two. On one of these I use "Poker Shrink" as my screen name. One member of the female variety actually found a way to make Poker Shrink obscene. Yes, there actually is an X-rated interpretation of that moniker. A large dill pickle if you get it; don't try too hard she was a really inventive ....... character.

So the moral of this pondering -- Don't be careful what you write, it's all going to be interpreted completely differently by whomever reads it anyway. Speaking of which, you know a good plastic surgeon could fix that.

Pinturas de Renato Sette, São Paulo

Conheça alguns desenhos e pinturas do tatuador Renato Sette. 

Tatuagens de Renato, Studio Sette Tattoo

Sempre gostei de desenhar, mas foi em 94 que tive meu primeiro contato com a arte através do graffiti, ano também que fiz minha primeira tattoo. Com o tempo fui me interessando por outros tipos de artes, como pintura em tela, aerografia em camisetas e também a própria tatuagem. Em 2000 comecei a tatuar e montei meu studio, o Sette Tattoo, localizado no bairro da Penha. Tive alguns trabalhos publicados em revistas como Word Fashion (revista especializada de moda), FIZ, Rap Brasil (revistas de graffiti), Tattoo Brazil Magazine, Tatuadores e Almanaque Brasileiro de Tatuagem.

Participei de alguns eventos como a El Distúrbio na qual os expositores eram artistas do graffiti e da tatuagem; 1º Fórum de Artes Visuais de Barueri - Exposição coletiva de artistas convidados; Mundiart – mostra internacional de arte contemporânea em Niterói, RJ; Exposição individual na Subprefeitura de São Miguel Paulista.

Desde já agradeço pela atenção e parabéns pelo trabalho!

Abraço


Sette Tattoo

Tatuador: Renato

Endereço: Rua Antonio Lobo 26, sala 1 , Penha , SP ( ao lado do Shopping Penha )

Telefone: (11) 2097-5484

E-mail: renato_f2@hotmail.com

Fotolog: sette_tattoo

Almanaque Digital de Tatuagem - Vol. 1 a 6

Que tal uma revista virtual de tatuagem totalmente gratuita?

Esta é a proposta da produção independente da Pixel Art. A revista foi criada pelos mesmos editores do Almanaque Brasileiro de Tatuagem, versão impressa veículada pela Editora Escala. Além de visualizar a revista é possivel também fazer o download no Issuu, livraria virtual onde a revista é hospedada.

Atualmente em sua 6ª edição o Almanaque Digital de Tatuagem tem um visual atrativo, conteúdo apropriado, abordando o universo da tattoo e comportamento urbano.

Nomes como Sergio Sancast, Sidney Jacobina, André Rodrigues, Aleks Punk e Léo Neguin já preencheram as páginas virtuais do Almanaque Digital de Tatuagem.

Confira as primeiras seis edições.

Almanaque 1 Almanaque 2 Almanaque 3 Almanaque 4 Almanaque 5 Almanaque 6

A Different Sunday

While today is Super Sunday for many of you, for myself and a small gathering of my close friends here in San Francisco, the celebration will be of a different nature. Thank all you facebookers and calendar keepers for noticing and particular thanks to Sir Paul for the wishes.

A Cleat in Time

There comes a time in every man's life and I've had many of them.

-- Casey Stengel

I am not a big resolution person. I don't make dramatic changes in my life or lifestyle. 'A line in the sand' always seemed a fairly impermanent metaphor for taking any sort of critical moral stand. Minor tweaks or slight course corrections seem to work better for my phlegmatic demeanor.

However, I have had friends argue that the above analysis flies in the face of certain realities, not the least of which are my fairly frequent employment changes and my fluid homestead history. Add to that I have just added a six month undomiciled meander to my life record.

Pondering this last evening while meditating in a damp San Francisco garden, I was reminded of a dream I had during what passes for a life crisis in my world. This was back in the mid 90's. The dream involved a sailing metaphor. For the sailors in the audience, I am not one. I am not a boater of any sort, so I do not know from whence this imagery arose, but it did.

I felt at that time that I had spent a number of years a bit adrift. I had a job and several serial relationships but there really was no direction in my life. I wasn't headed anywhere in particular. In the dream I was alone on a single masted sailboat with the large sail untrimmed and lolling in the wind. I caste a single line out to a cleat. I felt as if I got just a bit of trim into the sail I could or would begin to navigate the course of my life, instead of skimming around the surface at the behest of whatever wind might blow. Now mind you, these "winds" were providing me with a fairly interesting life at that time but a bit too directionless.

So, feeling directionless again are we? Well, no. I have learned how to use those life lines and cosmic cleats to bring some dynamic tension into my life. The sense of purpose that I consciously laid aside during the last year, while I traveled about the country is slowing rising. I am already lining up both the mundane and the creative endeavors for the next several months. The lanyard is in hand and thankfully the youthful desire to grip and tug mightily is well suppressed.

Watch your head, we're coming about.

Many Thanks Along the Way

I have just spent eight months on the road and most of that time I was not staying in hotels or motels but in the homes of many good friends. I want to sincerely thank every one of you for opening your doors, yours hearts and your homes to my vagabond ways. I enjoyed the variety of experiences at each and every stop and would not hesitate to encumber you with my presence again in the future.

Particular thanks to Randy, Gary and Cyndy, Bill and Kathy, Dan and Sue for not only inviting me to stay but also having the extreme good manners to pack up and leave. The only thing better than good friends would be good friends who offer you the shelter of their home and then go away.

Celebratory thanks are also in order to Pat, Bob and Holly, Jim and Mary Grace for timing their parties to coincide with my visits. The many meals at all stops were just too scruptious to mention but Bill, Pat, Mary Grace and Eric will be remembered for their culinary skills. Also the caterers in Virginia, the grill in Weed and the barbeque at Salt Lick in Austin.

To those who opened their homes for weeks at a stretch, I am gratefully indebited. To those I was only able to share a meal and a conversation, you too. The briefest of stops in the strangest of locations were like beacons into our past.

I learned the intricacies of the DVR at many different stops along the way. I became a fair to average Wii disc golf player and I observed various examples of Ipod, Bluetooth and other new techno devices both enthralling and frustrating their new owners. I even acquired my very first GPS to find my way from doorstep to doorstep. In all cases, I can honestly say to every one including myself: RTFM!

Thanks to David and Kim for opening their spare room on short notice. To all my old college friends in Kalamazoo, was great to see you, wish we had more time to talk. To the several dozen 'friends of friends' I met on my travels, twas nice to make your acquaintance, except for that one crazy woman in Florida. To those I saw but did not homestead with, was good to catch up and to those I missed along the way - I am not done traveling just yet.

Special thanks to the PokerBoyz for all the laughs in Biloxi, when are we doing that again? I would point out for the Boyz that I remain the only member to have met Becky, Rachel and Eric or to have seen and visited all but one of the PokerBoyz home turfs.

I would be remiss without sending cyber scritches to Midnight, Rascal, Matisse, Tigerr, Cat, Duffy, Jerome, Abra, Edmund, Crattchet, Blackie, Java and nuzzlin' my keyboard as I write this - Vlad.

What did I learn on this adventure? Well part of it I hope you will be reading in the book/story I am writing roughly based on the geography, if not the actuality, of the trip. Second, I came to realize on a much deeper level why people refer to me as their friend. I want each and every one of you to know that I value whatever interaction we had, I am humbled that you consider me that type of friend and you have more than repaid me with your friendship and camaraderie. Each and every one.