Journalled on Monday, 28 October 2024 | Santo Cristo, Rio de Janeiro, Brazil: 22 degrees, coolish, overcast and drizzly.

What a Monday, a great day even though nothing exceptional happened.

However, the small things together made it special. Sunday night, I went to bed at exactly 9 p.m. and got up at exactly 5 a.m. I’m getting back to my old routine from when I lived in Copacabana.

It is raining, which nowadays is not so common in Rio, so I made my bed, had coffee, and sat down to journal. I don’t have a class until midday, so I’m free to do whatever I want.

Journaling usually takes me an hour, max. I never have writer’s block. If I did, it would be strange. It is only me, people, and things in it, and there is always something to write about. It is not exactly as if I am creating a masterpiece of a novel to sell millions of copies.

I use my journal and what I write on my blog as a kind of assistive vocation, maybe helping others as well as myself. If people really find comfort in reading it, then it has all been worth it.

It is more of a therapeutic act for myself, to find myself, to sift through and filter out problems, doubts, and good times too. I see my journal as a blank canvas waiting to be painted every day. It is large, white, and raw, virgin, and with the artist’s imagination and conception in his head, he can begin to create, and create, and create. I feel as though I’m going through the same process when I’m preparing a blog post.

The screen of my computer is white, with nothing on it. I keep a journal, always posting in chronological order, and faithfully record what was done that day, while also trying to improve it if possible or necessary.

It is funny how what we wrote a year ago no longer reflects who we are today. What I’m trying to say is that, even though we sometimes do not notice, we are always changing, evolving, and adapting.

What I wrote a year ago is about another Richard. It is not the Richard of today. I have evolved, hopefully for the better, and that should be good, not only for me but for anyone else, for that matter.

So after transferring the journal entry to the computer, I rewrite any parts that need improvement, then check the grammar. It has to be right. Once the text is done, I go to my photo bank in Google Photos. These are the photos I have been taking for the last seven or eight years.

I initially began when I was still married to Nalva, but it really became important to me when I dated Denise. She was an active amateur photographer. I caught a lift with her and have never stopped since.

I would say that photography found me, not that I was looking for it intentionally as a hobby. Now that I think about it, I think it has helped me a lot in calming my mind.

I love walking anywhere and then suddenly taking a shot. I think I am good. People have commented on Instagram and Facebook, and there’s plenty of room to improve, including getting a better street camera.

My dream is to buy a Leica, which is stratospherically expensive, but worth it, and I know I will have one soon enough.

So I go to my Google Photos account and choose 5 or 6 photos. The main lead photo appears at the top of the post, with 4 or 5 more at the bottom of the page. Usually, I have to tweak or manipulate the photos and then upload them to my nude post.

There is a final check to ensure everything is in order, including presentation, content, grammar, spelling, photo titles, etc. When I am satisfied that everything is OK, I post it and share links on Twitter, Facebook, LinkedIn, and Instagram.

Instagram has been a little strange for me with links. I’m still getting up to speed on how to use it with my posts, but I will.

So my blog post, my creation, is on the Internet, and I feel good, more complete, and something more has been added to my life’s comp list, hopefully for the good of others.

My Granado Phebo perfume has finished, so I need to buy some more.

They are selling it at the cosmetics store in the bus station near where I live, but it was a little pricey. I found a decently sized chemist in Cidade Nova, a traditional neighbourhood in Rio that was a little forgotten and abandoned in the past but is now being revitalised and restored by the same builders who built the condominium I’m currently living in.

I walked there, bought the Cologne, and was very impressed by how beautiful the neighbourhood is. 20 years ago, it was considered a rough area of Rio. Now it really is quite beautiful. I will go there again to have a walk around, maybe this weekend.

It began to drizzle on the way home, but I did not mind. I’m in Rio. It’s warm. It’s not England, where it is cold most of the time.

When I got back, I cooked myself lunch, something simple with meat, eggs, tomatoes and onions, etc., in a frying pan and served it on a bed of toast. It was simple but good. I also did a heavy workout, including push-ups that always seem to punish me.

I hate push-ups, even though I know they are very, very good for me. I think I probably hate them because I know they push me to my limit, and sometimes that’s where we have to go if we want to achieve the real benefits or the success we’re trying to achieve.

So why am I so happy even if it has been just a normal day in many respects?

I think it’s because I have decided to trust myself in the universe. I am exhausted from being too anxious, worrying about the future, and what could happen. I think it’s just better to let it happen. Whatever comes my way, good or bad, I have the coping mechanisms to deal with it. Because of this, I feel light; a burden has been lifted from my shoulders, and I am extremely grateful.