HABITAT

The house, the dress, the skin, the landscape a keychain, a key.

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A land key to open the land that belongs to us, or is it? Body territories. Atmospheres of skins, memories of inhabitants if the heart making their way to the puffs in the jungles of everything. Let us receive here today the woman who paints great, who moves in branches and with the branches. Wing that grows   at the rhythm of the moon, the stars, the buzz of the waters, The one that is said in whispers, and she joins and interweaves, she connects at each other’s, condenses into shouts, laughs and dances.

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Let us receive here today the woman who embroiders on the table, solving in the pot soft dreams that become novelties. Navigators of the shores that she waits for and is observed for days and nights between the sheets and the flowers, constellating the many names said and no said. Let us receive her here today, that she heals, what she heals and wonders, that she pains herself in timeless landscapes, because she was swise and that for knowing she is not alone. For wise she fights, cradles and twins.

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EMILIA DEMICHELIS

2019