Carta ao meu marido
Letter to my husband
Letter to my husband, Sociedis Aparêncimo.
“In the universe of clothing. In the land of the costume. Existence dyed. We carry the planet. Who designed our soul? Who saw me? Do you see me? This mirror in the wall, it's me. The outer form is the piano, the interior is the music. Which one do you want to play? The concept of your elegance, according to Dona Mendonça, is something of lazy people. The beauty is something we invent. Why conceptualize if you can play with it? Master the class and choose the chords. Master the ideology and you can rule the orchestra.
See how many jewels you can identify in a rich composition of "well-raised" people. Times determine acceptance. I do not want to hear your opinion. Just remember the hat. Do not forget my baguette necklace. What is your symbol? In what person do you present yourself these days? Their pantaloons look more like a sofa cover. Feel free and they will sit comfortably in your concepts.
The coating of my moral is silk chiffon beige. My poetic freedom has nothing to do with your excel spreadsheets. For how many years will you fill in these missing lines in our functionality? Make a scheme and you will be governed in good shape. How many funks will I have to compose so that your judgment does not bore me? Throw away the numbers and wear your red Yamamoto. They are already beginning to speak.
I will not pray our father. I will not wear black. The time of patience runs out along with what makes us realize our reflection.
Dark circles mark the face of those who dream with their eyes open. Alcebíades cannot defend me. Reflect me! See me! This shoe is too tight and the bubbles have already stuck to my skin. The lines will be exhausted along with this costume that does not belong to me. Take my form with you so that I can rest in peace."
PB, 2013.
Tailor's suit made in natural latex and green tea. Blackberry cell phone in the pocket. In the electronic device goes a five minutes long loop video in which the artist writes letters using her eyelashes as a brush (picture above). The installation remains for 3 hours until a performer, ironically the husband of artist himself, wears “his” suit and distributes to the public the five letters written in the video.
