rafaela drummond

A brain called Rafaela




Sunday, july 12, 2004

I woke up early thinking about what to write in a new blog, this new page I’ve just created. I thought in pleasing many, in destroying a few; all in vain.

Before that, I had a hard time to sleep, I got dizzy and even fell to the bed.

I made a bitter tea, those you drink to remove all kind of evils, even the ones in the soul. I light up a cigarette that I haven’t smoke in a long time due to the recent principle of pneumonia. “This is not right and neither is healthy”, I thought. I looked those ashes being swallowed in the wind at the same time I was belching its black smoke …  And I could see faces through those polluted mists.

I started doodling. I scribbled in everything. I drew in the walls of my yard, the floor near the washing machine, my empty mattress, and as I no longer had what to stain, I started drawing on my body and when I realized, it was early morning, I got dressed and went to my morning walk.

There I found the leaves dancing and that delicious smell of nature. I started running. I ran so, so hard… Actually I was running from me.


Text published in “O diário idiota de Rafaela” – Gabriella Lima, 2011.


iHeart Clarice Lispector

A light rain falls outside. But thanks to air conditioning to keep cool this room. This city is incredibly hot, with light, strong or angry rain.
First post of the year I dedicate to Clarice Lispector, Beth Goulart and Rafaela Drummond (my character in O diário idiota de Rafaela).
As you know, my first book is going to be sold in the first semester of 2011. I am excited. Rafaela began to tell her story when I could not stand the screaming fights of the two vampire characters of my future novel (Reencarnação vampírica).
My connection with Lispector is curious, because I started to read her work after receiving a commentary in which they spoke the way I write reminds Clarice. Actually my characters are eccentric and still common. They have this questioning soul that fight together into a battle of right and wrong thoughts, but what about the world outside? How is it? It’s funny that so few people appreciate the details and I think this is where I agree I can write like Clarice. We can make a simple fact, a simple object, turn into poetry.
Clarice Lispector was born in Ukraine in December 10th, but she came to Brazil when she was two years old. She grew up in northeastern Brazil, where her mother died when she was nine. The family moved to Rio de Janeiro when she was a teenager. While in law school in Rio she began publishing her first journalistic work and short stories. Her first book is Near to the Wild Heart (Perto do Coração Selvagem), written as an interior monologue in a style and language that was considered revolutionary in Brazil.
She left Brazil in 1944, following her husband which was a Brazilian diplomat, and spent the next decade and a half in Europe and the United States. The fact she knew many kinds of society it helped her a lot to create those characters with honest point of view about the world and the people, and the most important: she cared about the little details and she used those things to turn her thoughts into art!
I’ll be honest with you confessing that it’s not all her writing that I like and understand well, but Clarice knew how to use her magic to become eternal, unique, and that’s what makes her works be studied in several countries.
Today, Clarice is a reference for many young people who have their own thoughts, who are not afraid to show their emotions and think beautiful the cloudy sunrise. I bet Lispector was affected by watching advertising! Clarice is love, simplicity, innocence, beauty and ugliness. Clarice is the inspiration for poets who think they have forgotten how to write!

Source: wikipedia.com