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The poetic shape of Gabriel Joaquim dos Santos´ discourse
I have a lively thought.
I dream in order to do and then I do.
The house depends on the spirit, it is a spiritual house.
Those flowers are made of shards of roofing tiles, nay they are something stronger, they are made of stone chips, because I want them to stay there and never melt. The rain hits them, washes them, they are everlasting flowers.
Sometimes I go out in order to see these little things that I myself make and I feel contented and comforted.
This house is not a house, it is a history, since it was made of thoughts and dreams.
God granted me this intelligence of mine. There crop those things up in my memory and then I go and do everything exactly the way I dreamt it.
I worked by myself, all this movement you see wasn't helped by anybody, I did everything with my own hands.
I want the shards because out of them I am going to make things to be admired by people. Why shall I buy a brand new jar? I have no use for a bought jar. There is no fun to it.
And so I live my life in my dreams: every night I dream. I usually go to bed late in the night but, even so, when I fall asleep there come the dreams. There come the dreams, that vision, that thought...
It is God who answers the doubts. Without God, nothing doing: there can be no nation, no country, no town, nothing at all. One needs God.
Brazil is a huge country, it needs peace, it needs civilization, it needs education. One must be very careful with Brazil.
When I go to Cabo Frio I step into the house of one of those upper crust women and, as I come out of it, I bring in my mind everything I saw in it. That's how it is. I don't need to take a picture. If I have the materials on hand, when I get home I do everything just like.
The sun is still high in the sky and I am on my way to bed, not to sleep, but to think. I lie on the bed, I start imagining things until midnight, just thinking. My feelings go far away.
There comes somebody with a Dutch tile and I find a place for it. There comes somebody with a broken dish or a broken jar and I make a tiny branch or a rose out of it, I turn it into an ornament.
Gabriel's notebooks
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