Please choose between the deluxe version with a photogravure print or the trade without print.
Water is good, and it takes my shadows in exchange for my form, when I let it go through my body.C.L
The unsaid in my family. The kind of things always present and silent. A kind of fog, of muffled silence where distorted noises come from. Memories settle in the fog, so as they are, and in the same way they become history.
One of the things that have been present at all times in my family, is a state of sickness. A kind of veil that covers every action, a sweetish and nauseating perfume that you breathe and remains in you even when you do not think about it. Especially when you do not think and you push your way out. My mother suffered from congenital hip dysplasia. A hereditary disease, especially present in children of the female sex, in various degrees of severity.(...)
Water is sacred because it blesses me and it supports me with a hand holding my nape, it relieves my heart of a heavy weight, and it accompanies me. Water talks to me, slowly, and gives me time and memories back. It mirrors my loneliness, puts space out of joints, makes a passage open. In the water, it takes courage to go, when you take your breath and hear the heartbeat pulsing in your ears, and you come to think: "yes, I will stay one more second, one more, I'll understand it better, then I'll resurface.
In the water, I take roots, when the waves slowly dig and move the soil that hide them. Only then I can see how much of an ancient earth is there to support me. My mother loved water, too. In the water she forgot her painful gait, every limpness stopped, then she smiled.
A story of guilt and uncertainties; underneath, a sticky and suffocating texture, that curbs, brings you to a lack of speech, restrains any caress, keeps hearts apart. The body becomes an object to heal, to take care of, to fix, with the help of science.