Tag: blogging

Fresh “The Dancing Bug”! From Orble to WordPress

On By taniacreationsIn The Dancing BugLeave a comment

Back in 2008 I created a blog at the the Australian Orble Community called THE DANCING BUG.

It was dedicated to writing about dancing and the Dancing scene in Sydney.

The Orble community disappeared suddenly a few years after taking all the posts without notice.

One day it simply went offline.

I decided to move everything across to WordPress.

I was able to transfer the text, finding the images (or as close as I could) inside my old files, noting how many votes I had in Orble, the date and time they were published. I wanted to keep as close as I could from the original for historical data.

I’m keeping the new archive inside the category “The Dancing Bug” in my Taniacreations.com website.

This is the new blog, ready to receive my new writing thoughts on dancing as well…

Twice the blog was among the most voted in the whole community, once in 9th place for the day, once in 3rd place for the day:

04 Apr 2013 – 3rd Place – Directly from the Bachata Me Dance Floor

06 Apr 2013 – 9th Place – Directly from the Bachata Me Dance Floor

Here is a print-screen of the final statistics of the blog before it went awol:

46 Posts + 16 Comments +. 3,193 Votes

The Reason Today

On By taniacreationsIn creations, English Australia, whyLeave a comment

The reason I write today is because I need to write the narratives I want to read.
I need to make my own story and read my own power in my storyline and not let others determine what is available for me to read.
I need to create in the world the possibilities I see in my mind’s eye.
I’m tired of the same old story where everyone conforms to what is dictated by the same old tales and tired run-through formulas.
I want fresh, unused, strange, and unique; my voice deserves to be out there.
Today I am all powerful.

Why Australia?

On By taniacreationsIn where1 Comment

The other side of the world, really? My friends and family have difficulty to understand why, but once explained it gets easier to get.

After I came to the conclusion that I needed a good life in order to feel inspired to write (see the post called “when did I start writing?”) I started looking for ways to achieve that.

I know many people find inspiration and energy inside a depression to write. I knew then as I know now that people write no matter what if they feel the drive. Unfortunately I’m not one of those, I am not good with sadness, with being unhappy or tragedies, it is not my forte. Instead I spend my energy working hard and changing things, making life better and then writing about it when I am feeling energised and inspired, harvesting the work I put into earlier.

Of course I have to keep in perspective the fact that I am quite privileged as the worst that ever happened to me makes for the better that might have happened to a lot of people.

I was in Brazil and was able to find another job, better than the first, but it turned out it was a copy of the other. I worked 70k from home and shared my rides with a colleague who lived in the same area, who then became my good friend, my most avid reader, and eternal supporter of my writing. We talked endlessly about my writing ideas and tidbits I would write here and there. He was instrumental in my realisation that writing was my path and we still connect technologically to exchange news about our lives and our artistic inspirations.

The job was horrendous, the boss was atrocious, we worked long hours and the travelling was dangerous and tiring. On top of that the company was in a city with two smelly factories.

If I had to choose I would say that water is my element, it often features in my dreams in its many forms. Many times water influenced my life.

When I was about two years old I fell on a stream and the water carried me for some distance. In my memory I was carried away in a river for long metres but my parents barely remember the episode so I think my little child inside exaggerates it a lot.

I grew up spending most of my vacations at my grandfather’s ranch by a large fresh water dam and my parents constantly took us to the beach, even though we lived about 4 hours in-land.

I’m strongly attracted to the ocean and spent many vacations thinking deeply on what I could do to live near the sea.

I used to list in my mind all the cities in Brazil’s coast and wonder if I could find a job in any of them. Reminding the reader that this is way before 2003 and therefore there was no google or job listing website allowing me to search for work Brazil-wide.

The only economically viable option was Rio de Janeiro but I never felt a desire to live there due to the security issues. I investigated Fortaleza in the North and Florianópolis in the South but found it hard to believe I would find a reasonably paying job.

The day before I got married we suffered our first and smaller flood. It was my parent’s property with a river running at the far end of a sort of farm house. Six years later there was another flood, this time 2 meters of water inside the house and my then-husband had to be rescued from the top of the house, by a drunken strong man, on a boat, secured by a rope from the higher ground at the front of the property.

This time we lost everything and for me it was the best thing that could have happened. I had always desired to live abroad and that felt as if the Universe had just pushed me out.

Right at that time my cousin, who was living in Sydney, went for a visit and her accounts of the city made it figure in my mind’s map for the first time. Through her I discovered this city, by the ocean, beautiful, first world, English speaking, and with a migration program, which could be the solution to my problems.

I persuaded the then-husband to consider the option and he ended up agreeing and I came in first to have a look. On the second day I decided I never wanted to live, it was home, it was where I found a piece of my soul I didn’t know was missing. It took some months to arrange a visa for me and for him to join me. Four years later, with a lot of hard work and a pastry chef diploma with 900 hours in the kitchen later, I got our permanent residency, and we got divorced shortly after.

To finalise, the reason I moved here was to write and have a good life, and that I am daily achieving.

Austrália Porque?

On By taniacreationsIn onde1 Comment

Precisava ser do outro lado do mundo, jura? Minha família e meus amigos acham difícil de entender porque mas depois que eu explicar o processo fica mais fácil de entender.

Depois que eu cheguei à conclusão que eu precisava de uma boa qualidade de vida para me sentir inspirada para escrever (veja o texto chamado “quando comecei a escrever?”) eu comecei a procurar maneiras de fazer exatamente isso.

Eu sei que muitas pessoas se sente inspiradas e até energizadas para escrever quando deprimidas. Eu sabia naquela época, como sei agora, que não importa como você se sente você pode escrever. Lamentavelmente, eu não consigo, eu sou péssima com tristeza com tragédias e infelicidade. Eu prefiro investir minha energia e trabalhar duro em mudar minha condição, fazer a vida melhor para mim e aí escrever. Quando estou me sentindo energizada e inspirada, ai sim posso colher o resultado do meu trabalho.

É claro que sou privilegiada e tive muitos benefícios na vida o que fazem que o pior que já aconteceu comigo ser de baixo nível dramático para muita gente.

Quando estava no Brasil, consegui um trabalho melhor do que meu primeiro emprego, mas mesmo assim este se mostrou quase que uma cópia do outro que era bem ruim. Eu trabalhava há 70 km de casa e revezava dirigir com um colega de trabalho que vivia na mesma cidade, Campinas. Esse moço se tornou um grande amigo e meu leitor mais ávido e eterno suporte em minha escrita. A gente conversava as várias horas de viagem sobre meus textos e personagens, minhas idéias e os pedaços escritos aqui e ali. Ele foi instrumental em me fazer chegar à conclusão de que meu caminho era a escrita. Nós ainda somos amigos nos conectando de vez em quando tecnologicamente para trocar notícias das nossas vidas e nossas inspirações e aspirações artísticas.

O emprego era horrível, o chefe era um troglodita, trabalhávamos muitas horas extras e a viagem era perigosa e muito cansativa, além de que, a empresa ficava numa cidade vizinha com duas fábricas fedorentas.

Se me dissessem que eu tenho que definir qual é o meu elemento, eu diria que é a água. Esse elemento sempre aparece nos meus sonhos em todas as suas formas, várias vezes a água influenciou minha vida.

Quando tinha dois anos de idade eu me lembro de cair num riachinho e ser carregada pela água por alguns segundos. Na minha memória o riacho era um rio volumoso que me arrastou por muitos metros mas como meus pais mal se lembram desse episódio eu diria que a criancinha dentro de mim exagera um bocado a proporção do evento.

Eu cresci passando a maior parte das minhas férias no rancho do meu avô que ficava à beira da represa de Rifaina, uma das represas do Rio Grande em São Paulo, divisa com Minas-Gerais. Além disso, meus pais sempre nos levavam para a praia, mesmo que morássemos em Campinas, há mais ou menos quatro horas de distância do mar.

Eu sinto imensa fascinação pelo oceano e passei muitas horas de minhas férias pensando como eu poderia morar perto do mar.

Eu costumava listar todas as cidades da costa brasileira mentalmente e imaginar se havia uma maneira de conseguir morar e trabalhar em uma delas. Lembrando ao leitor que isso era bem antes de 2003 e portanto não existia google e pouquíssimos websites para se procurar emprego ao redor do Brasil.

A única opção economicamente viável era o Rio de Janeiro, mas nunca quiz morar lá por causa da violência. Eu considerei Fortaleza, CE e Florianópolis, SC mas achei que a probabilidade de conseguir bons empregos nessas cidades era pequena.

No dia anterior ao meu casamento sofremos uma enchente, não muito grande. Morávamos numa chácara dos meus pais pelo fundo da qual o Rio Anhumas passa. Seis anos depois uma outra e maior enchente aconteceu e dessa vez, dois metros de água entraram na casa e meu marido (na época) teve que ser resgatado do teto, por um homem bêbado mas forte que realizou o feito com um barco de alumínio, guiado por uma corda que nós segurávamos da rua, que estava num nível elevado em relação à casa.

Dessa vez perdemos tudo e, para mim, foi a melhor coisa que poderia ter acontecido. Eu sempre quiz morar no exterior e senti como se o Universo tivesse colocado os dois pés na minha bunda e empurrado.

Justamente nessa época, minha prima que morava na Austrália foi visitar a família. Ela colocou Sydney no meu mapa mental pela primeira vez. Através dela descobri essa cidade, à beira mar, maravilhosa, primeiro mundo, com a língua que eu já falava, o Inglês, e ainda com um programa de imigração e que só podia ser a solução para meus problemas.

Eu persuadi o marido a considerar a opção e ele acabou concordando. Acabei vindo primeiro para dar uma espiada. No segundo decidi que esse era meu lar e que aqui havia encontrado uma parte de mim que eu não sabia que estava faltando. Levou alguns meses para que pudéssemos organizar um visto para que ele pudesse se juntar a mim. Quatro anos depois com um trabalho muito árduo, depois de um curso de Confeitaria e 900 horas de trabalho na cozinha, consegui nossa residência permanente e nos divorciamos pouco depois.

Concluindo, o motivo pelo qual me mudei para Sydney, foi mesmo para escrever e ter uma boa vida, duas coisas que estou conseguindo dia a dia.

When did I Start Writing?

On By taniacreationsIn when1 Comment

At a certain point in my life I came to the conclusion that I wanted to be a writer. I find  it hard to remember how or when exactly I got to that point. Probably, a turning point happened when I was about 25 years old and I wrote a short-story that was selected as a finalist for an anthology book. By then I had decided that being a ballet dancer wasn’t for me after all. At 17 I had dropped out of my dance uni degree and moved to advertisement and marketing. At 25 I had been working at a large multinational corporation that was draining my blood.

One day I was driving alone to work, from the car radio I heard a voice saying:

“Writing is your major gift”. I’m aware the phrase is a bit strange but I cannot change the voice from beyond just to fit the English grammar, so I will leave it as is, the closest translation.

That moment I made a decision (based on a voice I imagined because I was delirious of boredom, most probably, but who cares, right?). I had been trying to write more and more and I realised I had to find a way to have a good quality of life to have energy left for writing. If you check the post “why Australia?” you will see how that brought me to Sydney’s beautiful shores.

Although, the decision was made when I was an adult, the more I search for when I started actually writing, the further back I go.

My best friend pointed out to me that none of her childhood friends wrote a story about the time they caught the maid making out with the security guard. I was telling my friend how terrified I was of this maid because she found my story and was very upset at me. Lost in my anguish cause by the upset maid I didn’t realise that most kids don’t write about stuff like I did all the time.

When I first learnt what poetry was, I also sold some poetry to my grandfather which I never delivered because I was then as I am now: hopeless at poetry. I did try though, ended up writing a few lines without an end. I ate my payment in candy and that was that.

I remember the look in the face of my fourth grade teacher when instead of delivering a writing assignment with one page, as I was supposed to do, I delivered twelve pages. Just because I couldn’t cut the story short, stop it in the middle, I had to take the character walking all the way from school to work… Poor teacher, she was a mean one but I’m not sure she deserved that punishment.

A few years later my beautifully-bummed high-school teacher published a book with short-stories, I had a story there. (Beautifully-bummed because as a Brazilian teenager, like all other Brazilian teenagers, I was obsessed with the roundness of people’s behinds around me and such youngish teacher had very nice buttocks that would shake firmly when he wrote on the blackboard.) [Two more notes: I’m still obsessed with round buttocks and at the time it was an actual back board, where you make all that effort to write with chalk.]

While I was on my dancing career path I only thought I would write a book when I retired, I wasn’t really thinking, probably from lack of food, the brain didn’t work very well. I’m grateful to say that I added things up before starving to death and changed my mind. This is my reasoning:

I am not flexible enough to be a prima ballerina + I live in a third world country quite worried about food and health, not art + I can never eat + I am always fat = bad idea.

Once I stopped dancing professionally — I still dance for pleasure — I started writing more, I’ve always had ideas, many, many ideas for being so, even if I had to give up writing about the maid’s kisses.

Quando Comecei a Escrever?

On By taniacreationsIn quando1 Comment

Em certo ponto da minha vida concluí que eu queria ser uma escritora. Acho difícil me recordar exatamente como ou quando cheguei à essa conclusão. Provavelmente um dos momentos decisivos aconteceu quando tinha uns 25 anos de idade e escrevi um conto para os Anjos de Prata, um concurso do Escritor Mário Prata, onde me coloquei em quarto lugar e participei do livro lançado com os melhores do concurso. Àquela altura eu já tinha decidido que ser uma bailarina clássica não era para mim, aos 17 anos eu tinha deixado minha faculdade de dança e mudado para um curso de publicidade e marketing. Aos 25 eu vinha trabalhando em uma grande multinacional que estava drenando minha energia.

Um dia, eu estava dirigindo sozinha para o trabalho, e ouvi a voz do Fernando Morais me dizendo pelo rádio: “escrever é o seu dom maior”. Uma frase um pouco estranha, eu sei, mas não dá para mudar uma voz do além só para fazer o fraseado mais elegante.

Eu costumava ouvir o Fernando Morais falar no rádio então foi a voz dele que imaginei falando comigo, e foi essa frágil loucura que usei para tomar uma decisão. Eu vinha tentando escrever mais e mais e me dei conta que eu tinha que descobrir um jeito de ter uma boa qualidade de vida, para ter energia sobrando para escrever. Se você olhar o texto chamado “Austrália Porque?” vai ver o que me trouxe para a linda cidade Sydney.

Embora a decisão tenha sido feita quando já era adulta, quando mais procuro o momento que comecei a escrever, mais distante no passado eu vou.

Minha melhor amiga me disse que não é todo mundo que escreve histórias de como eles presenciaram a empregada beijando o segurança. Eu estava contando para minha amiga o quanto fiquei com medo da funcionária doméstica porque ela achou minha história e ficou muito brava comigo. Perdida em minha angústia infantil eu nem parei para perceber o quando é incomum, uma criança pequena, escrever sobre sua vida o tempo todo como eu fazia.

Quando eu aprendi o que era poesia eu vendi uma para o meu avô. O coitado nunca recebeu a poesia comprada, porque como poeta eu sou uma excelente novelista. Eu bem que tentei, escrevi algumas linhas sem final. Comi o meu pagamento em balas e foi isso.

Me lembro da cara da minha professora de português da quarta série quando entreguei a ela uma redação de doze páginas ao invés de uma. Eu não poderia parar a história no meio, certo? É claro que a personagem tinha que andar o caminho todo de casa até a escola.  Pobre professora ela era bem chata mas não acho que merecia tamanha punição.

Alguns anos depois meu professor mais lindamente bundado do colegial publicou um livro de contos, e um deles era meu. (Lindamente bundado porque como boa adolescente brasileira eu era obcecada com a beleza das redondezas posteriores ao meu redor, e esse professorzinho novinho tinha um par de redondezas muito belas que chacoalhavam firmemente quando ele escrevia no quadro-negro.) [Dois outros comentários: Eu ainda sou obcecada por belas bundas e naquela época era mesmo um quadro-negro, daqueles que dá um trabalho danado de escrever com giz.]

Enquanto eu ainda progredia na minha carreira de bailarina eu pensava em escrever um livro quando me aposentasse. Acho que não pensava muito claramente, devia ser por falta de alimento. Sou bastante grata de poder dizer que eu calculei as coisas melhor antes de morrer de fome e mudei de idéia. Esse foi meu raciocínio:

Eu não tenho muita flexibilidade muscular para ser uma prima bailarina + eu moro num país de terceiro mundo que se preocupa muito mais com comida e saúde do que com arte + eu nunca posso comer o que quero + eu sempre acho que estou gorda = péssima idéia.

Quando parei de dançar profissionalmente — ainda danço por prazer — comecei a escrever mais, sempre tive milhares de idéias para escrever mesmo tendo que desistir de escrever sobre os beijos da moça que trabalhava lá em casa.

A Narrativa Positiva

On By taniacreationsIn porquêLeave a comment

Para descobrir porque escrever é tão importante quanto respirar para mim, eu comecei a olhar para as coisas que gosto de fazer.

Adoro narrativas, contos, personagens. Em livros ou filmes, procuro personagens bem construídos, histórias que eu possa seguir com profundidade de personalidades e longos enredos. Amo ler, e ver séries de TV e filmes, amo conversar com amigos e seguir suas vidas e meus assuntos preferidos são relacionamentos e discutir as minúcias de como o mundo funciona.

Seguindo essa lógica, descobri que escrevo para fazer parte da construção da aventura das pessoas, para influenciar, mesmo que um pouquinho, suas escolhas e destinos.

Um calor me invade quando ouço alguém rindo de algo que escrevi, or quando eles me dizem que foram influenciados pelas minhas palavras de algum jeito. Eu escrevo para criar uma influência positiva e aceito que, às vezes, minha escrita pode ser vista através de um prisma negativo.

Eu sei, por experiência, que mudar os caminhos das nossas vidas é difícil e espero que compartilhando minhas histórias eu possa ajudar a criar coragem nos meus leitores para mudar, quando necessário, e sempre progredir em suas vidas.

The Structure

On By taniacreationsIn howLeave a comment

How I structure my ideas is firstly by keeping notes in any way on my reach to put down ideas. In paper, on the phone, in voice notes and written bits and pieces. Early morning, middle of the night, and during the day.

Then I expand these notes to include the details that kept coming to me with or without my authorisation. The filling of these ideas assault me in dreams, in the shower, when I go to the toiled during my working day. But they come more when I am walking.

Next I start writing what needs to be put down, the parts that if I don’t make real will keep annoying me incessantly, these are the texts that won’t go away, that will fill my thoughts and ideas until they are resting in a physical form.

Following I have to organise where it all goes and write the other bits, the ones I had only the sketches for before.

Depending on the project it doesn’t have a pre-created structure. The book I have written in Portuguese, Simplesmente Gerva, has been created in a series of emails between my co-author and myself, and we never knew what the other was going to write.

I am now writing the continuation of this book and, although I am writing on my own, I am being faithful to the proposal. I don’t know much of what is going to happen to the character, I sit down to write and let him take me wherever he wants.

Sometimes a whole idea is born from one thought, one example is the one I mentioned in another post: what would a writer do if they didn’t have the means to write and which situation would that be.

To surmise, I impose no rules to myself. Whatever works, works.

The Technique

On By taniacreationsIn howLeave a comment

I write using the many parts of myself. I write using both my home language, Portuguese, and my adopted language, the one of my fantasies and dreams, English. One day I may write in French, who knows. I write using the young me that lives inside and the older one. The wise and the silly. I write using my South American style, some fantastic reality, chopping off sentences (see the one just before) while writing really long paragraphs in other times.

I write with my own sense of fun, my original abilities and I have upgraded my technique with a Masters degree in Arts – Creative Writing from UTS. I am far from a literary writer, (as far as I can, actually), I aim to write in a straightforward way in plain English (or plain Portuguese, from Brazil). This was not without challenges during my studies, it was difficult to separate what was valid feedback on my style and what was my own Brazilian flavour, or what was because of the simplicity in the style. I guess I am still searching for this distinction.

I write following mostly the inspiration and the voice I found when I was seventeen, but try to give it a bit more style and maturity. I keep honing the knowledge, keep reading, listening and viewing anything that will enrich and feed my writing.

What do you Write?

On By taniacreationsIn what1 Comment

Whenever I tell someone that writing is my passion they come up with the difficult question ‘what do you write?’.

‘I write letters in a blank page’ doesn’t really explain, does it?

What I do is creative writing, short stories, blogs or novels. No poetry, no journalistic pieces. I write fiction and non-fiction, although my non-fiction reads like fiction. I love writing with humour but I also get into deep depressing stories and tales, at times.

My main subjects are day-to-day adventures and relationships. I like romance.

I would probably say that there is an element of sensuality in my writing. I am an kinaesthetic person and movement of bodies attract me even in bi-dimensional black and white letters.

I write anything that inspires me.