Other special thanks!

I know that are a lot of people missing, but I could not leave my Beatriz out. Thank you for everything!

I wish you a 2012 full of butterflies!

Also Susana, my big sister, Martha (let dance illuminate our lives) and António, the older brother, my protective friend!

Finally my special friends in the UK, Carmen, Coryn, Sahar, Hirra, Matt and the others :)

xxxx

2011's Balance

I would like to say that 2011's balance was positive, but it was not.

I finished my degree proudly, while I worked part-time in a bakery and I've established solid friendships that I hope they carry on for the rest of my life.

I finally admitted that music is my true passion, that I have it in my genes, because I was basically raised in the industry and for the last couple of years I have been working at the major festivals in Portugal.

I have this feeling of wanting to learn so much more about the music industry and how can I develop my skills. This put me on a difficult position. Which masters? Where? Is my mother going to understand my passion, my wish? What about my degree in Translation? Am I giving up or give it a try? Well, I did not give up on Translation, but I understood it is not what is going to make me happy and fulfilled for the rest of my life. And I don't know why, but I took a long time to admit it. I think from other's perspective was more than obvious.

Thus, when I got my diploma I was in this limbo, waiting for an answer from KCL, fighting against time to live the love of my life while I was working at the same time in Summer, continuing my functions at Jamie Cullum Portugal, attending gigs and far more important being with my friends. I ended up without my love, without anything to do, as KCL rejected my application, without any idea of how my unwanted gap year would be, and worse I ended up sick, really sick. Sick to the point where my family and close friends had to intervene.

Meanwhile I had to deal with other problems. Cancer took me two family members, one of them the closest of my life - my dear aunt Idalina. Even knowing she was in pain and afraid, she made sure I never left my studies and plans behind. I gladly walked her to her several appointments and exams when I could, I stood behind her son and I had to see her depart on the exact same spot where my dad was cremated. The exact same spot where five years ago she had to pull me out of there and comfort me. She was my third mum, after my nan.

At the same time, age finally hit my nan hard. My nan, this wonderful, perfect, respectable, adorable, sensitive and intelligent human being lost her ability to walk by herself in the streets. It got far too dangerous. So, my family and I shared the time between several hospitals and clinics, taking care of these two loves of my life, doing everything we could so they could feel as comfortable and happy.

My nan lived during the dictatorship, taking her freedom of being an independent woman, a true believer of the republic, was one of the hardest things for her to accept. Fortunately she is fine, she is under control and with this amazing strength to help others too. My nan is a fighter!

So in September the bubble bursted and I am where I am now.

Fighting with my own personality, my impulses, organizing my brain, learning how and with whom to communicate, fighting against my own body. Some things I have already achieved, others I will keep trying to surpass.

Yesterday the dog that spent my childhood and adolescence with me died. Tua (in English means 'yours') was adorable and smart and I surely miss him.

I would like to thank my wonderful family, especially my mum and my nan, Elsa (for being a constant in my daily life, supporting me and lecturing me when I needed), Joana (for the fun times and for being such a great listener), Carlos (for the 24h support, for not leaving me alone), Bruno (for the jokes, the support, the company, and to show me that life is short), Raquel (an honest, funny and incredible adorable friend), Fred (for entering my life so happily, for cheering me up with his craziness and his jokes), Mariya (for making my life sweeter and gorgeous), Marta (your love for life and your friendship are the best), Di (for being so generous and supportive), Ana Tang (for your beautiful company, your open minded view, your intelligence), Paula (for making my life richer in jokes, and constantly register our friends' moments), Pandinha (for your sweetness), Sara Mageon (for the fun and being a fashion inspiration), Rita Gonçalves (you beautiful, sweet, caring new friend!), Mafaldinha (my beautiful cousin that helped me when I fell into pieces and did the best she could), Tiago (for loving me, even after how it all ended). Special thanks to all the Cullumholics: Paul, Michelle, Maria, Susana and Clara Lopes, Diana, Stephanie and all the others - what a great community we are.

And last, but not least - Jamie Cullum. For being an inspiration everyday, for your honesty, craziness, for your talent, for the amazing gig and M&G on the 29th July and the company for the last six years.

I love you all from the bottom of my heart.

Therefor, I am moving to London on the 1st February, to try to pursue my dream, and if not to get a job that helps me and my mum to face this mysterious 2012. I intend to continue my masters, here or in the UK, depending how life goes in London.

Happy New Year! And good luck.

Yours truly,

Carol

A Banda Mais Bonita da Cidade

Hino ao Amor, hino à persistência, hino à Música, hino à felicidade e alegria.

Das bandas mais honestas e mais simpáticas com quem já me cruzei.

Obrigada, Banda MAIS Bonita da Cidade!

Butterflies and Trains

No, I am not talking about how marvelous Spring is, or how much I love to travel by train.

I am talking about that feeling you get every time you 'get' a signal from someone from your past or present time.

When I first fell in love I thought I would never love someone like I loved that person. Luckily, I learnt I was young and naive. Yes, I did learn to love again. It took me shit loads of time, but I learnt a lot. Or at least, I should have. The main lesson I was taught was that I needed to learn to love me first.

I left him at the train station, I got on the train, always looking back. It was a deep introspective, self-inflicted painful journey. It was bitter. But I eventually continued my path, the most important step is when you turn your head and look forward. You pose countless conjectures - you refuse to accept the situation, you try to figure out why, emptiness fills your heart as much as love did. After emptiness, sadness, even rage. I did not understand this back then, but time is crucial. Time heals. No matter how much you hate this statement. Cliches are cliches for a reason - because they are true.

Why does time heel? Because in between the time you are processing all your feelings and thoughts, you are a coin, you have two different sides. You want to know what the other is doing or feeling, but on the other hand you don't. Why inflict more pain? Why bother? It's gone, gone, gone.

And then you feel the butterflies in your stomach. Butterflies that make you feel like grabbing a bike and ride like a lunatic or sing loud and clear and look to the sky.

I found this draft when I came here to (finally) update my blog. I must have been feeling quite nostalgic.

Yes, I now have butterflies in my stomach. Yes, I'm in love.

Hold my hand tight

I always forget to come back here.

I'm afraid I am too lazy to sit and just write what I feel.

I have a lot to share, my recent trip to London and Prague, going back to uni, having a part-time job, my academic future, but I'll postpone all that for a little bit longer. Today I am sharing the beauty of holding hands.

When we are young we hold the hands of our parents. To prevent us from running down the street and being hit by a car, to help us walking, or maybe just because we are having a walk at the park. When we reach adolescence we like to hold our lover's hand to express the passion, the commitment. However, when we get older those kind of expressions disappear. You still see couples hugging or perhaps a kiss once in a while, but that sense of showing affection in public when we pass the 40s is gone.

A couple of days ago I saw an old couple having a walk with their hands holding tight. The lady was not holding her husband's arm to help her walking, they were simply walking holding their hands. I then realised, and maybe I am quite naive, that true love must be that - getting that age and still be in love. Walking down a street holding hands.