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Art of writing

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Art of writing

Through History, Man composed "scribbles",
Something picturesque since primitive time.
He told the story,
He made hieroglyphs, it was discovered.
He grunted and finally murmured.
The words arrived.
Speech, and communication.
Letters written in the smoke
What Indians did.
They kept the Culture.
Today my art is the brush of everything,
Yes, where I see the world through signs.
It's where I dream, compose, challenge,
Out of breath.
I trace numerous messages,
Many selfish,
Other too simple.
But he wanted peace.
I'm just a being,
Who loves to write,
That in an alchemy I do magic writing.
That's where I breathe my ideals.
And, where in the proposition of interpretation,
I find my peace.

Handwritten on August 3, 2018.
Transcribed today for this particular site.
I offer the doctor in philosophy of language: Luiz Antônio Marscuschi.
To Portuguese language teachers who gave me lessons in the course of my life.
To my children: Alexia Cristina, Emmanuel and Anna Clara Castro.
To my fellow writers and public network teachers.
A thank God for giving me inspiration.
Listening to songs from when you were a child:
Teka Castro, professor of Chemistry and writer.
SP September 8, 2018.
Sunny winter day.
Saturday.

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