Essay Carlosmagno Rodrigues, 2006
BEFORE THE ABYSS OF YOUR EYES
I'll always be your enemy. I'm the daughter of fear and its aggressions. You may condemn me, even kill me, but you can't judge me. In paraphrasing Apocalypse Now, these are the half-truths I've seen,
“as a diamond bullet”
“as a heap of vaccinated arms”.
“I wanted to cry, I didn't want to live”
Will there be something beyond the abyss of your eyes?
I want an empty mayo jar in order to put all my dreams in it.
I want to lay down on white sheets and smell lemon.
The breeze moves the little daisy, the sun illuminates its face, but it doesn't even have little eyes to mischievously avoid it.
In Matrix Revolution there isn't revolution, but maintenance of the system. The hacker given as a revolutionary messiah expresses the inability of ideologists to create a political figure from democratic grounds. In it, there is neither socialism nor democracy. Power is institutionalised by someone who since birth was predestined to propagate the myth of the fight for freedom in a hierarchical, obvious and pathetic fashion, as is the American way. I'm not an anti-American. I just loathe bad taste.
Although I dream with the total...
I forget now...
Although I dream with the total annihilation of all imperialist countries, I fear a nuclear holocaust. I think that at the slightest sign of a nuclear combat, here, as in all southern territories, we'd be vanished from life, exterminated; we'd turn into manure for soy and wheat crops, and there would be only one zone of security determined by the thrust of boots walking over our putrefying bodies.
How to be free if we create God? How to be free if we create continuities? Gradually, and through interaction, our fear is substituted by the frightening stability of the religious power, by the maintenance of the right to property, by the unequal distribution of wealth, by the limits between critical thinking and loneliness.
Are these half-truths? Are these excuses or justifications for the exercises for embellishments of the world?
Imposition is perverse. All human cruelty is forged as Love.
“We can only cry. What is given is that human beings are finite. In reaching for the apex of every single possible word, it's not at the heart of the matter that we arrive, but at the margins of a region where death roams, where our thoughts are extinguished, where the promise for origins regresses endlessly… Where do we place our finitudes and attentions nowadays? These are the greatest doubts we have today, and we always will. What keeps recurring is the feeling of observation, which is a sheer feeling of language. And we remain in this undefined region incapable of observing a world loaded with meaning” .
Texto enviado pelo artista