I am a vast territory, you will never own. You don't course through me, I course through you. Hear my voice. Sound travels over you. My birthplace has been written. I am a living document. I have my own identity so don't tell me what I am not. Beware of where you cut me through because you die when I die.

We are a vast territory, you will never own. You don't course through us, we course through you. Hear our voice. Sound travels over you. Our birthplace has been written. We are living documents. We have our own identity so don't tell us what we are not. Beware of where you cut us through because you die when we die.

This is a vast territory, you will never own. You don't course through it, it courses through you. Hear its voice. Sound travels over you. A birthplace has been written. There are living documents. It has it's own identity so don't tell it what it is not. Beware of where you cut it through because you die when it dies.




Borderline is a group of images exploring topography and territoriality. It's a simple concept, tracing a line. But once it cuts through a body - human or earth-body - a roar emerges. This surging voice from the perspective of an individual, people or land is what is being explored - a sort of manifesto.

Once a line is drawn, what is owned, and what is not, becomes palpable; Belonging and longing merges, And a heightened peripheral vision is inevitable. A sensorial mapping and a scanning of our own surfaces takes place, as a question glides over it all: how could we possibly think individuals, people or land are ever contained by dotted lines.

In today's landscape where appropriation and zoning are used as solutions to an economic, political and social crisis, what becomes evident is the borderline disorder of governments. The U.S. border portrayed could be easily interchanged by the Turkish-Syrian border, Burmese-Bangladeshian border, Israeli-Gaza border, Spanish-Catalan border or the Brazillian-Venezuelan border where my own country of origin has lately been facing tensions.

A set of six silver-gelatin prints were the initial exploration. The writing on the glass frame is erasable, removable, impermanent, transient like borderlines eventually are. Although this work was generated in analog format, as a three-dimensional object, it easily translated into digital manifestations as shareable media files. These media files will be spread on my social media channels under hashtag #boderlinemanifesto.



Let a roar emerge. a surging voice of individuals, peoples or land. Take part in a small act of actvism and spread #borderlinemanifesto.

Here are some animated GIFs ready to download. Just share it throughout social media. Don't forget to insert the hashtag #borderlinemanifesto


Just right click on animated GIFs and share it as #boderlinemanifesto


borderline . noun


a : situated at or near a border (a borderline town)

b : being in an intermediate position or state : not fully classifiable as one thing or its opposite (a borderline state between waking and sleeping)

c : not quite up to, typical of, or as severe as what is usual, standard, or expected (borderline intelligence; a borderline personality disorder)


Latest Exhibition

February 1st - March 15th, 2019.

Group exhibition “From Within”

Center for Collaborative History - 113 Dickinson Hall at Princeton University. (Directions)

Gallery Hours: Monday - Friday 9:30AM - 4PM


October 26 - December 8, 2017

Mercer County Photography Biennial 2017

Silva Gallery of Art - The Pennington School, NJ.

“Borderline” was part of the juried competition "Mercer County Photography 2017" curated by Anita Allyn, Associate Professor of Art at The College of New Jersey and an interdisciplinary artist whose works combine photography, video, animation and print.


A collection of ready-to-mail handwritten postcards celebrating life.

FINAL pre_scribed postcard.jpg

What is pre_Scribed?

I created a series of photographs during an afternoon visit to Casa Azul, Frida Kahlo’s dear home in Coyoacan, México. The postcards that emerged are an acknowledgment of how impactful this encounter with her belongings and living quarters was for me.

These photographs are my own interpretation of a life that in so many facets mirrors my own. Each artifact became a potent reminder: It is not about how I may die; It is all about how I choose to live.

As I inscribed each postcard with a quote by Frida Kahlo it became an exercise, a meditation and a quest for appropriation of the strength and the resilience which Frida Kahlo is renowned for. 

By not addressing the postcards to any specific recipient I make them available to be mailed by others. An open invitation to identification and sharing of images and text. Who will receive it? Just like my life span, I relinquish the need to know.


I am sending these encouraging postcards to whoever wishes to receive it, since we are all surviving, no matter in which stage we are in our lives.

May I send you one? It will arrive with a handwritten Frida Kahlo quote and a blank recipient field so you can mail it to whomever you want, or keep it for yourself!

Just send me self-addressed stamped envelope to receive a pre-scribed postcard:

And if you are located outside the U.S. or, you are just not well enough to send me a letter, send me a quick email with your mailing address and I’ll gladly send you a postcard

Is your envelope big enough? Make sure it fits! The size of each postcard is: 4.13” x 5.83" inches = 10.5 x 14.8 cm


The story behind pre_Scribed postcards:

Each postcards was originally handed to friends, my family - on my 45th birthday and as I reached the 2-year-mark after A cancer treatment - a milestone as any #cancerapprentice well knows. 

But now I Am partnering with local cancer centers (Including the very one where I was treated) and leaving these postcards as a medium, to those with a similar diagnosis, to express, reflect and break the isolation one feels during and post treatment - something I know too well.


It’s a simple gesture: to hold a postcard; to read it; and maybe, mail it. But life becomes very simple after a diagnosis. My shaky unreadable notes during treatment are a testament to how limited ones energy becomes.

I write these postcards for you; I write it as you; because, I am. So we can say together “Viva La Vida”, con gusto, as Frida once did. 

Frida’s Mirror. ~ December, 19th, 2018 ~ Coyoacan, Mexico.

Frida’s Mirror. ~ December, 19th, 2018 ~ Coyoacan, Mexico.

I am realizing my story might be helpful to others with a similar diagnosis. If you know someone that could benefit from my experience as a #cancerapprentice, please break the code of silence I kept, and share my story with them. Just send them this link:

I write the postcards for you; I write it as you; because I am.


Prescribed Postcards have no commercial value.

Reproductions must be credited. All images copyright 2019 © Jennifer Cabral.

To see these artifacts in person, pay a visit to Casa Azul yourself. It is a magical place, located in one of the oldest and most beautiful neighborhoods in Mexico City. Casa Azul was made into a museum four years after Frida’s death. More info at: Museo Frida Kahlo.

December 19th, 2018.

Reminescenses at Coyoacán, México.

~ An essay To Maria José Bretas.


From down the street I saw the color saturatted walls. The gate was opened. I entered into the courtyard. it was crowded As always. Winged and Crawling creatures emerged from the four-directions. The procreation of flora and fauna is almost an assault. Everything germinates and gives birth, except for you and me. Carmine and Cobalt are as intense as thorns. There is no difference between the dirt in the garden and the living-room floor. This house shoots from the ground like a trunk. It’s roots are deep. Massive.

I stormed the house looking for you in each of the rooms. I’ll wait for you here. Books comfort me. The light penetrates the shelves and attaches an aura to each object. It’s blue. The yellow tries to survive on the canvas. Even on your hospital gown the saffron color stains prevail. Complementary hues. But it’s a lost battle. The bleeding doesn’t stop. Blue gushes like blood. Yellow was also the first color to die on my palette.

The bed was made. The pillow is untouched except by the audacity of the sun entering through the same slit daily. How many times the girl traced the orbit with her fingers on the bedroom floor, before becoming the one who lodges in retinas and canvases her many deaths? You blind me.

There is a mirror in each room. Ink and makeup stand next to it. It was inevitable: You would paint yourself, one way or the other. i wish to wear Your long and adorned dresses. not your armors. Lace and velvet cloaks it all, but not your pain. The courage in your eyes makes us forget that you feel absolutely everything.

Your working tools are exposed like bones. A public exhumation. Even dissected your strength is still incomprehensible to us.

I leave the house relieved. You were not there. For once, I would be spared of your crude honesty. But as soon as walked around the corner, I knew it was you.

Pale I crossed Londres Street. I carried your whisper in my ear: “we will die young, Even though we don’t want to.”


Da rua eu vi o muro saturado de cor. O portão estava aberto. Entrei no jardim. Como sempre estava povoado. Criaturas rastejantes e aladas emergiam dos quatro pontos cardeais. A procriação da fauna e flora são quase uma afronta. Tudo brota e Nasce. Menos tu e eu. Carmins e azuis são intensos como os espinhos. Não há diferença entre a terra do jardim e o chão da sala. EstA morada Emerge do solo como um tronco. Suas RAÍZes sao profundas. maciça.

Andei pela casa afora. Procurei por VOCÊ em cada CÔMODO. Aqui te espero. Livros sempre me confortam. A luz penetra as estantes e a tudo circunda com uma aura. É azul. O amarelo tenta sobreviver na tela. Tons complementares. Até na camisola do hospital os borrões cor de aÇafrão prevalecem. Mas é uma batalha em vão. Não há como estancar. O azul jorra feito sangue. Amarelo também era a primeira cor a morrer na minha paleta.

A cama estÁ feita e a almofada é tocada apenas pela AUDÁCIA do sol entrando diariamente pela mesma fresta. Quantas vezes a menina TRAÇOU a ÓRBITA solar com os dedos no chao, antes de virar aquela que crava em retinas e telas seus vários ÓBITOS? Me cegas.

Há um espelho em cada quarto. Um pote de tinta ou maquiagem os acompanha. inevitÁvel: Se pintaria de uma forma ou de outra. Teus vestidos longos e adornados quero vestir. Mas não tuas armaduras. Renda e veludo a tudo encobre, menos a dor. A coragem dos teus olhos nos faz esquecer que sentes absolutamente tudo.

Teus instrumentos de trabalho expostos como ossos. Uma exumação pública. E mesmo assim, dissecada, tua força continua para nós incompreesivel.

Deixo a casa aliviada. Não estavas. Seria polpada nesta tarde de tua honestidade crua. Mas assim que virei a esquina, sabia que era voce. Atravessei a Rua Londres pálida. carregava em meu ouvido o teu sussuro: “mesmo não querendo, temos que morrer cedo.”

Did you receive #PrescribedPostcards ?

Let me know how far it traveled, by telling me where you arE.

YOUR NAME (optional)
YOUR NAME (optional)
Highland Park, NJ
— Bobbie E.
Ogdensburg, NJ
— Lauren B.

Keep the weekly energetic potential existent within each woman at sight.


This is a minimalistic set of four photographs. Each image is my representation of a woman's weekly internal cycles.

A Limited Edition print series delivered as four individual 8.5×11” prints custom printed and signed by me is available for purchase.

I dared to invite women to reconnect to themselves and their bodies - A challenge I was facing myself at the time.

I combined sound recordings, photographs, social media and downloads into an art project to convey a realization I was drawn to share:

"I believe our bodies follow moon cycles - a waning and waxing of emotions and potentiality we carry within ourselves. Like seeds."


The art project CONCEPTIVES is composed of four elements: ORAL conceptive, AUDIO conceptive, visual conceptive and #DAILYCONCEPTIVE.


Two years after it's release, this project is still pulsing. See it for yourself.



AUDIO CONCEPTIVE explores sensations and impressions  experienced during my cycles and it's recorded in my own voice (Accent included).

"I combine adjectives, nouns and verbs to create a lexicon of potentials existent in each of the four phases of a woman's cycles. It's an evocation for women to become aware of these multiple parts within themselves and integrate them into their monthly, weekly and daily routines."

For an inside perspective on this recording read my blog post - "A recorded accent"


This is the interactive element of CONCEPITVES. I put out an open invitation for women to share the stages of their own cycles as a group on pinterest and twitter. During a year, which corresponds to 13 new moons, or 13 cycles in a woman's life,  I shared words and icons that reflected my internal phases. I’ve now fulfilled my commitment. But I’m not done. I am still there. (13 moons was not enought !) This dialog is ongoing.

"To choose these words and images I have to maintain a continuous inquisition of where I am in my cycle, and by sharing them I invited other women to do the same. We started a weekly process of self-discovery, no matter where we were on our cycles, and because of social media, no matter where we were in the world." Come. Join us!


To find out why 13 moons was not long enough for this project. Read my blog post "13 moons".


ORAL CONCEPTIVE is a reminder of which 7-day-phase a woman is experiencing in her cycle. Each image describes a potentiality to be explored.


These phrases are to be pronounced as wishes, or weekly affirmations. Carry it in you, and with you.

and on your iphone, too. just click each image to download.


Where are you in your cycle? Here is a guide:

DAY 1 | INTUITIVE | Menstruation
DAY 7 | CREATIVE | Folicular Phase
DAY 14 | RECEPTIVE | Ovulation
DAY 21 | REFLEXIVE | Luteal Phase

As women, we have a chance to tap more easily into a part of ourselves each week - one that nourishes intuition, reflection, creativity or receptivity within us. With this artwork, I am attempting to remind us all of that.
— Jennifer Cabral-Pierce


Originally, these images were distributed as a small set of cards, inserted into birth control holders, that I’ve collected during the last 5 years I submitted my body to oral contraceptive consumption. It was an attempt to take control over my own cycles and reclaim each weekly phase my body didn't experience. I hope to raise awareness of what we, as women, might be loosing when we interfere with our natural hormonal cycles by absorbing artificial hormones via oral contraceptive consumption. More at my blog - "So, why did I conceive this?"

“By repurposing birth control holders I’ve accumulated over the years, I am taking control over my own cycles and reclaiming each phase my body is experiencing. At the same time, I hope to raise awareness of what we, as women, might be loosing when we interfere with our natural hormonal cycles by absorbing artificial hormones via oral contraceptive consumption."
- Jennifer Cabral


This self-discovery project wouldn’t have happened without the wisdom of three inspiring authors. I used their published work to guide me through my own feminine cycle awareness process. They are Christiane Northup, MD; Alisa Vitti and Sara Avant Stover.