davi de jesus de nascimento: carcaça: Curatorial Text: Ventura Profana

davi is a guardian, an artist in caution, a moist sower of great care. at the top of his head, the rodoleiras sharpen their teeth and stiffen their jaws; those who gaze from afar swear they see a king’s crown, but in truth, I tell you, they are veils of lightning. in his carcass are held the marks of the mysteries that script the destiny of those chosen to carry on their backs and in their bellies the consanguine children of a form of life that has existed on earth for more than four hundred and fifty million years. everything in this ark is risk and ravine of those fertilized by stings, it is the trace of the carapace whose flesh hosts the handful of larvae that will ensure the multiplication and continuation of life beyond the human: the plague crying out warnings. thighs, hips, and bellies full of striations: currents in fossil state, the inheritance of a venomously gentle gestation.

for his body to endure the proliferation of the seeds of what for many is an abomination, it was necessary to nourish himself with the nectar found in the drupes of pitombas, also called bull’s eye. the instruction surfaced at the tip of the stinger, while two davis slept coiled like snails inside an oratory devoted to the good jesus of the stones.

glued together, the slugs move through the world sliding over their own juice of pleasure which they enjoy, in a brown patience.

it is not possible to give birth to anything worthwhile if the heart is not entangled with the will of the river. the Mothers engendered in anacondas and surubins are used to fan the dreams of their children, as part of the mission to reveal the anatomy of that which only those who drown can glimpse: the vegetation of the bocaina, a full way of cultivating peace amid the abundance of so many wars.

there are those who tear mountains apart and drain the streams, there are devils capable of violently flooding entire villages, driven by greed.

it was the rivers that taught opossums and elegant-eyed lizards the art of thanatosis. sometimes it is necessary to fake death before one’s enemies.

the Rivers dawn as guardians like davi, so that the memory of the waters is not suffocated by the colonial disgrace of humanity.

parthenogenesis: females reproduce without the need for males. in his carcass, davi conceives himself as the matriarch of a new species of navigators, somewhat human, somewhat hook; unsettling and terrifying little creatures, tucked into the pillows of ladies and gentlemen. they interrupt rest with bites that blaze like wild fire.

to live it is necessary to exorcise pain, to turn the paths inside out,
to grow dizzy in the delicacy of venom until from the depths of one’s shells an unguent spills forth.

- ventura profana