Sunday Journal

To keep up a journal is so nice. I got really thankful that someone on this planet proposed me: hey you there! Keep up a journal, kay? I am a journalist. This is the second course I take from Berkeley. The second course by Ms. Sokolik. Last course I produced a term paper, which I love. On this essay I make a point on the fact that the internet and our toddler digital age has offered not to much of a reliable back up for our pictures. Many kids who now are from 10 to 15 years old simply do not have pictures of there first years of life. The CDs, HDs and some platforms, like the Orkut, have become digital and electronic trash. As we print much less pictures and at a lower quality most likely in some decades the best images of our daily life may remain having been painted in the 16th century (The Arnolfini couple, by Van Eick).

It is Sunday. Sunny one, the sky is completely blue, and one can see the crescent moon. Tiny moon. It’s winter in the southern hemisphere in July. The sun is so low in the horizon that the sky goes bluer. I spent some time in the afternoon sky gazing. How much have you looked deep in the blue sky these days? Was it blue? So I took some pics of what it looks like to gaze at the sky around my neighborhood. You will see there all very urbanized reflections. Urban violence. Connectivity, the flow of energy and signal, sun energy: being wired, fenced and concerned about pollution. The reality of many citizens from so many cities around the world.

When a classroom has 42 thousand classmates I also think about the amazing chance of getting to know what we have in common.  My guess? We have much in common.

Before Goethe sat and wrote he used to walk a bit in the black forest. Among the trees he would organize his ideas; well organized ideas produce well organized texts. My walk is around high walls with fences, energy posts, telephone wires, and scarcely found trees. The landscape of an old deactivated harbor. Some cliché of an arid post-industrial iron with concrete and greyish colored city, contrasting to the bluest sky. The comfort of post-modern urban lives is at the core of what we call civilization. Is it? It looks like very few live on a Caribbean paradise beach city. When someone thinks of Brazil, where I live, what probably comes to one’s mind is a sunny beach filled with tanned slim bodies. Maybe the best representation of power nowadays is being served a perfect mojito on that postcard bay. Have a good Sunday. I hope you enjoy my Sunday journal.

Text and photography by Luciano Medina Martins

Sobre Luciano Medina Martins

Journalist, blogger, activist against the abuses of states that violate citizens' rights. I don't write about one only topic, I like to interact with many different issues. No fake news here.
Esta entrada foi publicada em Artigo, Berkeley, Essay, Photography, Selfies, Social media, tecnologia com as etiquetas , , , , , , , , , , , , , . ligação permanente.

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