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TRADUCAO DO INICIO EM INGLES MY INDEPENDENCE DAY: Everything to Declare – it’s a long goodbye New York- Dearest ones: I’ve come to a crucial point in my life. Actually, ‘THE’ most crucial to date. A pedestrian crossing without the white stripes, an “Empty Space” cluttered with junk, an asterisk. I’ve been in it for a while and have realized that moaning and groaning from the cradle to the grave simply doesn’t help. So, I made a decision.

This was worth staying overnight in a dodgy truckers' motel for, with dope-smoking stoners sitting outside on patio seats, then trains shunting in the background. Hi Russ, sorry for delay. All my CD's are buried amongst other stuff / junk non accessible at present. I spent 3 months ripping over a 1000 cd's.something I never want to do again. They where all ripped using EAC @ 44.100 kHz,16 Bit, Stereo. PCM converter. High Quality (slow) The CD was a Jap paper sleeve import purchased from Dustygroove.

“Transform the world: Wake up every morning and change the world”, a soft voice used to whisper into my ear. It was that of Julian Beck, whom I directed in his final show and from whom I learned so much. Yes,I used to have a vague idea or notion of things. Yet, I can’t find them anymore. Don’t seem capable of even knowing of where they are any longer. All I can see, eyes open or shut, is that self portrait by Rembrandt, hanging in Amsterdam, staring right at me; he at the age of 55 and I at the same age.

Him on one side of a timezone/era as if trying to tell me, or as if WE are trying to tell one another that my Renaiscence is over, finished, and that I’m dead. I can’t go on. And I won’t go on. Beckett, the one whose universe I’m so very close to, would have said: “but I will go on”. Yes, I do realize the necessity of a continuance, continuity, progression, of a forward movement. However, I look around and ask myself (in less than a subtle way.”continue what?” if I haven’t really started anything!!!! There isn’t – on my turf (or terminology) that much to be continued.

My life on stage, as such, is finished. And it is so because I have determined that it has perished. I do not believe that our times reflect theater as a whole (or vice versa) and I certainly don’t have the patience to create the iTheatre, as if it were the extention of the iPhone or the iPod and so on. These miniatures and gadgets of self satisfaction do, indeed, fit extremely well the decadent present days of, well, self satisfaction. Pardon me for writing in loops but this is a reflection of the times.

But art and creativity? If one were to analize, say, this or that person’s last movie or CD or choreography we’ll only come to realize that it has all become a mere and smaller repetition of what once had the taste of the new and of the, say, “good”.