July 2022 - Reflections of Womanhood
(Uillinn Arts Centre - Westcork, Skibereean)

"Tell this story as if it was a lie mom and I will do the same."

"How do you ask?" Falou o Feidlim.

I realised dance is an unique art form because the body is the material. It can have an inherent social quality but in its core is about communication, commoning, creating a public space for sharing, togetherness, celebration, ritual and transformation. (...) The transformation is not necessarily of a social status but of how the actors of that given community share space in a more equitable and open way. - July, 2022.

It's quaint to see how serendipitous life is. Here I am recurring once again to my mom to help me with this reflection on my own identity, who is an artist though she won't admit it and who've brought me up surrounded by painting, books, walks in nature and now I am surrounded by all these here in Skibereann. There is a natural sense of isolation too and solitude seems to be a recurring theme. For both me and my mom. - July, 2022

Conve
rsatio
ns in
Corr
esp
onda
nce

Agua de rio/cachoeira
Rosa, copo de leite, lirio
Antiga
Presente nao dado
Gosto de coisas antigas
Representa algo que amo
Aquario de rosas
Eterna/nao vai se acabar
Flor e fotos eternas enquanto durem...

O MITO DA MULHER INVISIVEL

Podemos conversar sobre assuntos variados dessa vez eu tive coragem de perguntar coisas que temia previamente. Falamos sobre desejo e sonho ela me disse que teria sido mais feliz num tempo antigo. Que ela se sente fora do tempo. Por isso aquele objeto fala com ela. E um aquario de flore. HA necessidade de permanencia e durabilidade nesse ser sensivel. Permanecer e lutar.

Pergunto sobre minha ancestralidade.

Diz a lenda da familia que ele (meu tataravo) puxou ela pelos cabelos e depois ela se apaixonou.

Penso na ideia de memorias e historias fabricadas e me pergunto sera isso verdade? sera uma lenda?

Mamae fala que essa foi a unica historia que ele contava da familia. De vovo nao ha nenhuma,

So a lembranca da foto permanece testemunha do tempo. Eterna enquanto cuide.

Link auto entrevista

Estava no meio do deserto, era dia tinha um oasis com uma grande lagoa e vi uma cobra coral do tamanho de uma anaconda, Ela veio me confessar que estava pronta para dar a luz.

De uma pedra a minha direita abri a porta dos curandeiros. Baby do Brasil veio me receber, era ela quem puxava as criancas de dentro do saco.

De repente vi pelo espelho o ceu estrelado de noites tempestuosas em minha face e a crianca em meu colo tinha gosto de peixe. No horizonte uma miragem de uma enfermeira de azul fazia sinal de fumaca ate que o fogo queimou sua jaqueta. Nua ela dizia que peixe nao nasce do ceu negro da noite infinita.

Mal sabia ela que a noite tambem e dia.

What is my main question?

where
are the imperfections?

If she is river

From a single drop she was born
The first river was left alone
after the encounter of tears brought her to life

Attached to her were two younger siblings

The streams of night and day

In the surrounding of their banks the king of Desert showed his face
His soonwas a disapointment, for he married the darkest of the volcanic earths
His grandchildren were a nuisance with which he had to handle

It was the flowers that started to grow and change in the colours of the palette that he disliked the most

The king was a petty man and to see his youngest grandchild getting the best fishes while his children were dry and distant made him envious and vengeful.

Upon his fury he sent a sand storm to bury the small stream but one drop survived

Beneath the sand
Protected by the river
And with her parents kiss she was made night.

Father Figure

His piercing green eyes were both
of a boy and of an elder
In the echo of the buildings
his travelling laughter would often awaken me form my slumber

With fidgeting fingers his mind would wonder
As he tried to solve the
problems of the worlds

A relaxed smile was often
followed by the whistle of
an unfamiliar song
Now made familiar by its constant presence around the
halls
Pen
Paper
Phones
And added numbers

The mayor of Praca Sao Salvador
would always come to your rescue
In the end of the day
As the night would fall
and a blanket of stars
covered the black blue sky
He would always come back home

Ever present
Ever laughing
Ever kind

With a flip of the hand
And a tumble of the body
We would greet each other
And the tsss of the open
can let us all know he
had safely come back to us.

November, 2023.