Prontamente se prontificou aquele que já havia recebido um Giftome de Londres, Felipe Morozini. Quantas ondas batem entre nós. Marolas de encontros ativados por terceiros, há sempre algo em mim mesma que se desperta quando me encontro com ele. Pode ser algo novo ou o de sempre, mas é sempre uma vontade de mais de mim.

Corri para sua casa poucos dias antes de minha viagem, com uma garrafa de água de coco e muita curiosidade sobre o que esse corpo criativo iria me ensinar.  Pra mim, debater com ele como ultrapassar barreiras de mesmices profissionais sem comprometer seus desejos de expressão, num momento de reavaliação da minha trajetória, era como sentar numa cadeira de escola. Sua passagem pela Índia, suas ligações espirituais, seu passado casando com meu presente. Era meu presente-encontro.

Saí de sua casa com o presente embalado em papel com fitas escrito Fragile. Subi do centro até a Angélica de busão para a depilação. De lá, esperou encostado à parede minha última sessão de shirodhara na Vila Madalena. Presenciou o delicioso almoço no Alternativa Casa do Natural. Subiu no busão novamente até a Paulista. Desceu a Augusta, me acompanhou nas compras de artesanato indígena. Nos despedimos do Frank em última visita à sua casa na vilinha. Fez todo o trajeto SP-Miami-Montreal na cabine, passou por todos os raios-X sem fazer alarde, chegou a Val-David, passou por Val-Morin até chegar a Montreal, no dia da entrega.

Haviam poucos dias da minha chegada ao Canadá e fui a Montreal para o show de três grandiosos músicos brasileiros. Aproveitei a ocasião para encontrar a pessoa atrás do e-mail heydontworrybehappy. Karina, linda espécime da fauna brasileira, sua amiga de adolescência, deixou o Brasil há um bom tempo, também passou por Londres e há alguns anos reside no Canadá. Num bar, embaladas por uma boa sangria, aprendi que devo aprender francês se quiser trabalhar bem por aqui, que posso dirigir sem carteira de motorista canadense por 6 meses, que aquela era a região de boas lojas de artigos para o lar, que ganhei uma nova casa para me hospedar na cidade e que o mantra “o inverno daqui é babado” pode ajudar a me tirar daqui sem muitas delongas.

Foi a primeira vez que entreguei flores. E como era de se esperar, não era um buquê, mas a imagem de flores desenhadas sobre uma das regiões mais áridas de São Paulo, o minhocão, lar de acolhimento e expressão do Felipe. Tal pôster, embalado por fitas sinalizando frágil, concretizava o sentimento de permanência daquilo que em sua essência é a  mais instantânea das expressões de vida e amor no mundo, flores. No frágil e no concreto, no chão e na parede, nas duas almas.

Uma então nova amiga italiana, a Paola, que conheci na casa do meu antigo amigo Breno, me sugeriu ir ao aniversário do até então desconhecido amigo de ambos, o Brunno. Nem a Paola, nem o Breno estariam, mas eu iria assim mesmo e ainda levaria minha amigona, a Carla.

Já havia se passado uma hora desde que o novo dia se iniciara. Achamos a casa amarela que, pelo silêncio que ecoava, nos fez ir ao bar da esquina comprar umas cervejas.

Tocamos a campainha e nos escondemos nas laterais. Por uma janelinha na porta, daquelas em que o rosto que se mostra consegue proteger o que se tem ao mesmo tempo em que parece indagar com curiosidade, surgiu o tal amigo do amigo.

Fui obrigada a me pronunciar:

-       É da casa do Breno?

-       Não.

-       Oops, do Bruno?

-       Sim.

-       É ele?

-       É.

-       Prazer, sou a Thais amiga do Breno, e da Paola, e essa é a Carla, minha amiga.

Era 1 da manhã, a festa havia começado ao meio-dia e os últimos dois realmente convidados recém haviam partido. Foi nesse e sobre esse contexto que entramos em cena. Só nos restava então… organizar a bagunça, recolher o lixo, lavar a louça varrer o chão e tomar as cervejas que estavam abertas e as que ainda iríamos abrir.

Daí para frente Brunno se tornou um dos novos horizontes que se formavam numa então para mim desgastada São Paulo. Quando estava pelos arredores, lhe fazia visitas surpresa. Com a Paola, passamos a criar meetings de botequins e lançamentos. Ao seu lado dividi um sofá na minha então primeira sessão de Ayuasca. E através do Facebook fui acompanhando sua ascensão como designer recém cegado e instalado no Brasil.

No dia das crianças mexicano, após sair de uma sessão de Alexander Kluge na Cinemateca e me sentar numa praça em frente à igreja ao som de um grupo de salsa para comer uma tentadora banana recheada, me deparei com uma tira de bandeirolas de plástico mexicanas pendendo até o chão. Recolhi um jogo multicores e parti.

Fui ao correio um tempo depois despachar uma bagagem e queria aproveitar para enviá-las a algum amigo. Pensei naqueles que gostavam de peças decorativas e populares, Guta Frank, Kekei, mas eles não se encaixavam. Guardei-as.

Foi então, durante uma longa caminhada ao cerro em Real de Catorce que me veio à mente assim, do nada, que era para o Brunno. É ele quem brinca com as cores, que pesquisa o popular, que pensa sobre objetos e usos, que está criando laços com a América Latina, que mistura ordenadamente em seu atelier.

Na necessidade, até eu criei um uso para a bandeirola em meu quarto temporão em Real, como está na foto. Ou seja, e mesmo que não seja o que for, ou se não for, de uma coisa ela será objeto, de recriar o mesmo olhar de susto e surpresa que Brunno lançou ao me ouvir bater à sua porta.

Na verdade eu desconfiava que a Barbara fosse brasileira, já que é amiga de minha amiga, tem esse nome e respondeu meu e-mail sem dúvidas. Como ela respondeu em inglês, eu seguia escrevendo em inglês, mas confesso que morria de vergonha cada vez que escrevia. Achava bizarro duas brasileiras ficarem se correspondendo em inglês…

Let’s come back from the beginning. I went to Mrs. Lia Bock’s house to get the present. And I met her son, unbelievably handsome and with this super male ´s face. Lia, that was part of my life while we shared the same friends (she was kind of a cupid for me at some point), we shared the yoga practice and I always admired her happiness and the fact that she lives and loves so intensively… I followed her building and re-building the most different and amazing castles with braveness and hope.

Fiquei curiosa em conhecer alguém que fez parte de algum desses reinados que a Lia certeiramente construiu durante sua morada em Londres. E não foi diferente. Barbara, como de esperado, voltou 10 anos atrás, lembrando da casa dos brasileiros sempre cheia de gente, que estudava mestrado com o marido e que a Lia fez parte da construção do que hoje não diria ser um castelo, mas a fortaleza na qual a Barbara vive com seus filhos e marido.

And for me, I can tell that it was a bizarre experience to ride a bike all this way, from my situation of being a squatter, of skipping food and doing some street-art-gifts-project to meet a BBC program director, busy woman, married, living outside London in a house + garden place. I ordered a glass of wine to celebrate that meeting. I was happy to have fulfilled that mission.

O verão já tinha passado e o presente era um clássico biquíni brasileiro! Como todo ano há verão, minha culpa não durou muito. E Barbara me explicou todo seu drama para encontrar um biquíni no Brasil que coubesse em sua marquinha européia de biquíni. E o tal biquíni que a Lia mandou era um desses…

And now, seis meses depois, I write this with sorrow, imaginando meu trajeto para a entrega, the skate grid that I passed through, os momentos de tensão ao passar pelo viaduto que quase deixa a cidade, remembering the cold weather that started to fall through London, a outra hora e meia da volta observando a cidade e suas construções e pessoas, and specially for feeling that the relationships, quaisquer que sejam eles, are the fuel for my life. E ao reescrever esse texto agora, I assume to not let the ordinary life blow this out.

We met at the tube station near to my adorable English everyday school, at Holborn. It’s a very common thing in London to meet people at some tube station, even not using it frequently… It was the third time I met someone to give a gift and all of them occurred in some underground station. Maybe if we instantly hated each other we could dash to the stairs and go somewhere else that is not where we were.

We went to this cafe in a charm street nearby, as I get addicted to coffee, I had my first cup, with milk always, at that time. Everyday I wait to drink coffee somewhere with someone. It´s now a ritual for me to invite someone to have a coffee, it’s a really neutral way of meeting people, can be anyone with any implication and the fact that you ask them to have a coffee with. really do not undertake you in any way.

As both Brazilians – funnily we were served by a Brazilian waitress – , we couldn’t avoid speaking about the experience of being a foreigner. I lived in three different cities in Brazil for at least 9 years in each, so for me, was common not to feel completely belonging to where I was living at each moment – like I feel here now. There is always some doubt about being somewhere or choosing where to live, specially if you think about it as a choice for the future, or for settling you down.

To Domingos was a different issue. After living in a couple of continents and having married a North-American girl, they decided to live in a city that did not belong to any of them, neither Brazil nor USA, so they came to England. I’ve always thought about moving with a lover. Perhaps to make all the new things instantly and invariably connected to ourselves, as the average everyday life kills the passion much faster. And it’s also very useful for the future as you will have even more special memories about that person than if you had lived always in the same place in the same way.

I discovered something amazing about his living here, he has this special visa that is not about being an European citizen, marrying someone here, studying or be employed, is a visa given to people with extraordinary work or skills that want to develop their research or their work, fantastic!

As a gentlemen, he offered to pay the coffee and let me speak eloquently about my current impressions on life, big cities, people, money, fashion, freedom. At some moment, I gave the book that his mother had sent to him. About architecture, his most moving subject in life. A book about Brazilians’ houses. He said that his mother is always sending books – there’s nothing more personal and more difficult to get rid off when moving than books. It suddenly occurred to me that parents can be similar to books as we don’t choose them, they definitely build our truths and we can’t deny their importance, even if we just let them standing in some shelf… This one was to help he remember where he came from, where his roots are and who still, stand, missing him.

Vale você entregar um presente pra você? É que existem coisas que não tem preço… Como retribuir uma recordação que nos contemplou com uma reportagem super carinhosa… E aquele body está lá guardado há tempos para você… Aí fica a seu critério… Se achar que não vale entregar seu próprio presente ele mesmo assim é seu de coração!!

Meu dia clareou. Fiquei intrigada o resto das horas. Nos dias subseqüentes enveredei a pensar em como fazer aquilo. EU precisava entregar um presente para MIM mesma! E descrever isso… Onde eu entrava e a que horas sairia? Ou eu realmente entraria? Foi a partir desse embate que comecei a me dividir, a tentar ao menos me ausentar por frações de tempos e sentimentos, que fosse, da idéia que tenho de mim mesma. Não conseguia me despovoar do fato de que receber um presente de alguém quase desconhecido poderia irradiar calor pelo meu corpo e acalentar minha alma. Misturam-se as almas nas coisas; misturam-se as coisas nas almas. Misturam-se as vidas, e é assim que as pessoas e as coisas misturadas saem cada qual de sua esfera e se misturam.

Delineei um trajeto que me faria caminhar como num círculo e no caminho, coletar a entrega. Saí da Augusta rumo à avenida Higienópolis, voltei pelo Santa Cecília, atravessei a Consolação, passei pela Augusta: o presente não estava no local. Voltei ao Pacaembu e retornei para casa. Ouvindo música, tirando fotos, comprando frutas, comendo frutas, recolhendo o presente e ainda fazendo a partilha de restos de um antigo relacionamento. Eu havia romanceado o encontro com o objeto, fiz fotos da loja, respirei fundo antes de entrar, pretendi não ser eu mesma, tive que voltar no outro dia – já sem tanto romantismo…

Por alguns dias, não abri o pacote. Imaginei mil formas de me entregar, onde eu me encontraria, como eu marcaria comigo mesma, o que falaria. Até que me dei conta de que não havia lugar atualmente que reunisse mais características de mim mesma, que eu me sentisse mais confortável, e provavelmente que eu receberia alguém como eu mesma, que a minha então, casa. Ela reunia os amigos-vizinhos, o vizinho-acampado, o gato-menino, a amiga-irmã-distante, os amantes-passageiros, a esquina com a Augusta, os gritos na janela, a vida simples, a cama-gigante, a música incessante, a cozinha que cheira a café, o entra e sai de uma casa sem paredes. E foi lá que eu entreguei-recebi-usei o presente. Era um body com rendas em vermelho e preto, de uma loja de produtos erótic-romântic-sexy, com uma sensualidade latina, volumosa e recatada que muito me interessaram quase 6 meses antes, quando a Patrícia me disse que havia um body na vitrine da loja que era perfeito pra mim e que depois o levei para uma histórica seção de fotos com a atriz Claudia Ohana para a Playboy, para finalmente ganhar vida ao ser beijado por um skatista que passava pela fatídica casa…

I met Jakub, better saying, Kuba, here in São Paulo. He was spending his vacations in South America, i have a common friend with him, two actually, that introduced us through e-mail. Kuba is Polish and lives in London.

Some weeks later, it was me who looked for Kuba – i was in London. We did some-thing similar: went out for a drink with some friends. But some weeks later, after i had gone to Paris and then to Amsterdam, i needed to ask him a favour. I called him ´cause i had just figured out i had nowhere else to stay in London… So, as we had some nice time together and he always offered-his-house or some help-if-i-needed, i sent him a message – as i didn´t have phone credits at that time… I slept in the same bed as him. I pretended that i did not understand when he said that. I just put my clothes on – as that was not the case of taking them out – and he came to bed. We talking at night, with the lights off and both laying at bed, no romance, no intimacy, but even though, sharing this very peculiar place, a marriage bed…

Well, let´s talk about gifts. Kuba stayed at this house in São Paulo, Felipe´s, but maybe i ought to describe it, as you will not just only understand better but because i went there to give-the-gift-Kuba-wanted-me-to-give.to Felipe. I know him from a long time but it has never been enough.

To get to the present Kuba wanted to give Felipe, he had to go through quite a path. Like meeting some ex-boyfriend-he-had-not-seen-for-some-couple-of-years. We went to this amazing tiny bookstore that is now tagged. After buying he said he would give me the book later, cause he wanted to pack-write-think-see-read-do-not-know-what-else. In my last day, actually in my last minutes, we met. At Heathrow. He kindly-gently offered me some glass of wine. Amazing to have someone to make me feel more comfortable, less confident and happier.

I got to Felipe´s apartment and began to take pictures convulsevely as if he couldn´t discover me – i don´t know why. Without even look properly at the gift he got, he began to tell me about how he get to Kuba. And how they connect in such a way that he dismissed him crying… Felipe opened the book and found some cards. It was prince William and Harry postcard. I had even told Kuba at the airport that i would rather preffer William than Harry, i changed my mind right at the airplane and i discovered, now with Felipe, that prince William time has passed and that prince Harry is the hot-royalty guy. I need to say that to Miranda July, as she wrote in her book about her frustrated attempts to meet William…

One of ours friends have given him a bycicle, some months ago. And he rapidly addopted this bike as his way of moving through the city. One night he left it at my house and in the other day, as i was going to the pool, i decided to leave it in his house, so he could wake up and go out with this his new friend. But Jesus, there were some strange metal pin that really hurt me. I could see that the bike needed some repairs…

I had almost forgotten! I gave him some kitchen clothes two weeks before my vacations – he´s a chef!

Well, until that moment i was supposing that Vitor, as a good friend, had to accept the fact that he was not receiving anything from my way back to Brasil – except myself. But it was when some friend that is living in London told me about this small kit, a bag that you can attach to a belt with bycicle tools.

So, back to the beggining, he started to tell me some histories about the fact that he pretends to lock his bycicle to the tress or poles, but he lost the padlock, so he just wrap the bike with the grip and, pray to god to find it when he comes back. Ok, that was my cue. As we got to my street, i asked him to enter and gave him the pack. It was funny because he didn´t recognize what were the objects for – neither did i – maybe because we had spent something like R$ 150 drinking… He laughed a lot and went home. On the next day, he came to my house for some english breakfast i did and explained me everything he found out about the tools. It´s very like him, in one moment he seems to not know things or to do it wrong, but at the end, he always surprises us.

It wasn´t different today. We met, after some maybe six months without seen each other, and she came to my house with a gift. It was a porcelain apple, half bigger than a cherry, made to put some spices inside, with an even smaller spoon (oh Jesus, cute!). So delicate, so gorgeous!

So i gave her my version of the kind of gift she likes to give. I told her it was some stationery stuff. She told me she loves these things. It was that big-muji-ball made of bands – she told me she had made one for the movie she worked as an art director. I thought this ball would feet nice in her big office-television table. Some bird-coloured bands and some clips, also with a bird shape. Something just to make our everyday life more funny, and beautiful.

And i almost forgot, she gave me the best gift ever: some incredible dulce de leche from Argentina. Nice…………….

We smoked some weed at her house while i still didn´t have any. Later, i asked one friend to get some weed for me. But we could not meet before i left to Paris, and then to Amsterdan so, i could only pick up this little bag in the very ending of my trip. At this time i was sleeping at this new friend´s room. A nice one. I was also colaborating in some research she was doing.

Well, the day of my flight came and i had to leave. I cleaned up her room and was funny because i found some of her clothes like, just one sock, a tight and i decided to make a puppet with those things and a blanket, a cigarette and a mouth i drew.  I thought it was sweet of me doing that, to show that i in some way, took care of her room.

Before finishing to pack i thought that it would be some like stupid of me going to Brazil with that weed – it´s so easy to find there and it would be one thing not to be concerning about… and i told another friend to gave her this small pack as a gift, when she arrives at home. Well, i just received some messages of her in msn, she said that she loved the “installation” and that the weed would just fit great with her tutti-frutti paper.  And that she will save some other flavours of this paper to the time i would be back in London. Doesn´t it sounds great?

I was at Mari´s house during the time i spent in London. I gave her some little gifts when i got there, another two days before i came back, and in the day i was leaving, i found this record. I was looking at the records in a really naif way and i found this one. Well, Led Zeppelin, from one moment in my life, became connected to Mariana. She was a great fan of them – she tatooed in her back Zoso, name of their fourth album. That i remember, Jimmy Page was her most loved, but i thought Robert Plant could do the job… And also Jimmy played in one of the songs in the album… And, its undeniable funny the title “Now and Zen” and the new age mood, remarkable the clothes and the symbols, the bright colours.

Mariana had started a dashboard in her room´s wall some days before, and i thought she could put this record there, to be a decorative stuff other than be played… It was funny because she said, oh god, how young he is, and continued saying this, as if she couldn´t believe… I laughed! I could see that she has followed them. Then she said, oh, i really want to hear this record! Thanks Naná – that´s a nickname that only she calls me so…