MINE_IRA

mine (noun) : a pit or excavation in the earth from which mineral substances are taken

mine (pronoun) : that which belongs to me

Texto em português disponível abaixo.

Using my family’s archive and images of my own childhood I started to play with words - “mine” as a noun, and a pronoun. But these two words quickly signified only one thing: that which is taken without permission.

Once defined as a mine the terrain is subjugated to desecration and exploitation. No better symbol to such acts than “Serra Curral Del Rey” - a mountain ridge in the brazilian state of Minas Gerais which corralled and gently embraced my existence and that of the inhabitants of my hometown of Belo Horizonte as I grew up.

I traced its slopes from memory, as I’ve seen it through my child-eyes. The mountain is drawn over each photo - it’s by my feet when it was in front of me; above my head when behind me, and sometimes so close by my side, I could touch it.

In this work the drawn ridge becomes a revealing layer - from negative to positive - bringing into light the hidden secrets of the mountain and that of my body - we were both continually corrupted and pillaged, we were both being abused. The mountain was consistently carved by the noun “mine”, and my innocence continually taken as a pronoun. “You are mine”, said an adult to a child. Not in words but in repetitive acts. Little by little we sustained devastation and loss while keeping our facades intact. By labeling the mountain-body and the child-body with the word “mine” these facts can no longer be ignored.

Of that mountain now only remains a hollowed shell. I hope to prevent humans from such un-souling. a reclaiming of the body can take place, and ownership can be transferred back to whom it rightly belongs If The word “mine” is self-proclaimed. in this instance, sovereignty is restored and can no longer be taken away. Not without blunt infrigement, violation and betrayal. Something the mountain knows too well.

ThIs leads to the last bilingual word-play embedded in the type-setting of the title of this work. I am a so-called “MINEIRA” - someone from Minas Gerais. I tell it to anyone who cares to listen. And I have photographic proof of all stereotypical roles I’ve carried as such. But this romantic view of my origins. This idealized upbringing In a society engrained In the mining culture means only one thing: I am a witness and an accomplice to multiple environmental crimes.

As the mountain watched over me, I watched as the mountain (and the other mountain, and another mountain…) was bluntly infringed, violated and betrayed.

“Mine_ira” can now only be written with a hyphen. Not as mere finger-pointing full of rage (ira) against the mine and the men behind it, but as self-responsibility for my own silence and inertia - as “mea-culpa. By relinquishing victimhood and accepting my role as participator and spectator I am now in a position to unleash “mine-rage” and call for the well overdue and deserved criminalization of the mining industry.

You are criminals. We all are.

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This work is currently being featured at Der Greif.

 

MINE_IRA

mine (pronoun) : that which belongs to me

mine (noun) : a pit or excavation in the earth from which mineral substances are taken

Usando arquivos de família e imagens da minha própria infância, Eu comecei a brincar com significados bilinguês. A palavra “Mine” - quando traduzida torna-se o pronome Meu/minha e o substantivo Mina. Mas estas duas palavras rapidamente se traduziram num mesmo significado: aquilo que é tirado sem permissão.

Uma vez definido como “MIna”, o terreno torna-se desecrado e explorado. Não há melhor simbolismo para tais atos do que a “Serra do Curral Del Rey” - uma montanha no estado de Minas Gerais que congregava e getilmente abraçava minha existÊncia e dos residentes da cidade de Belo Horizonte, onde cresci.

Eu tracei essa montanha de minhas memórias. como me lembro da serra do curral com meu olhar de criança. A montanha estava aos meus pés quando posicionada à minha frente; Acima da minha cabeça quando se encontrava às minhas costas, e às vezes ao meu lado, e tão próxima, que acreditava poder tocá-la.

Neste trabalho, o traçado da serra se torna um processo de revelação - de negativo para positivo. os segredos ocultos da montanha e aqueles em meu próprio corpo sendo aos poucos revelados - ambas estávamos sendo continuamente corrompidas e roubadas. Nós duas fomos repetidamente abusadas. A montanha estava sendo cavada pelo substantivo “Mina/MINE”, e minha inocência transformada por um pronome. “Voce é minha”, disse um adulto para uma criança, Não em palavras mas em atos. Pouco a pouco ambas sofremos devastação e perda enquanto mantínhamos nossas façadas intactas. Ao rotular o corpo-montanha e o corpo-criança com a palavra “Mina/Minha/MEu” tais fatos não mais podem ser ignorados.

Da montanha agora somente resta uma casca. Eu espero prevenir que corpos humanos sofram o mesmo fim. É possivel Clamar a posse de teu próprio corpo. A repatriaçāo pode ocorrer aos devidos donos. Mas é necessário que o pronome Minha/Meu/Mine seja proclamado pelo próprio indivíduo. neste caso, a soberania é restaurada e nāo mais pode ser tirada. Nāo sem uma escancarada infraçāo, violÊncia e traiçāo. Isto a montanha sabe bem.

Finalmente a brincadeira bilíngue continua na tipografia do título deste trabalho. Eu sou conhecida como uma “mineira”- vinda de Minas Gerais. Eu declaro isto a qualquer um que esteja disposto a escutar. Eu tenho prova fotográfica De todos os esTereÓtipos de que Participei Em tal papel. Mas esta visão romȃntica da minha infȃncia. Essa idealizacao das minhas origens enraizada em uma cultura minerária tem apenas um significado: eu sou testemunha e cúmplice de múltiplos crimes ambientais.

Enquanto a montanha olhava por mim, eu olhava a montanha (e a outra montanha, e mais uma, e mais outra…) sendo infringida, violada e traída.

A palavra “Mine_ira” agora sÓ poderá ser escrita desta maneira. Não como uma mera forma de apontar dedos cheios de ira contra a Mina e os homens por traz dela, mas direcionados para meu próprio silÊncio e mInha inércia - como “mea culpa”, minha própria culpa. Ao largar meu papel de vítima e admitir minha participação como Participante e expectadora de um crime, eu posso então deslanchar minha ira e clamar pela mais que atrasada e merecida criminalização da indústria minerária.

Vocês são criminosos. Todos nós somos.

~ Para Cláudia Franco Souza

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“LIBERTAS QUAE SERA TAMEN RESPEXIT INERTEM

~ Virgilio

Scroll down for text version in English.

Nesta parte da série de trabalhos sobre as minhas origens no estado de Minas Gerais eu sugiro uma reinterpretação do lema do Estado e um redesenhar da bandeira mineira.

A ênfase de nossa bandeira se concentra na palavra “liberdade” clamada durante a Inconfidência Mineira, mas quando a frase baseada no texto em latim do poeta Romano Virgílio é apresentada em sua forma integral o foco é transferido para a palavra “inércia”.

”TAMEN RESPEXIT INERTEM” pode ser traduzida como: “NO ENTANTO OLHOU PARA MIM INERTE”. Ao usar este título represento uma cultura e história baseadas na impunidade e irresponsabilidade de instituições governamentais e privadas com o meio-ambiente. Reconhecemos com esta frase que a natureza nos observa inertes perante sua destruição.

Ao redesenhar nossa bandeira com um triângulo negro faço um protesto contra a irresponsabilidade do Estado na dispersão de nossos recursos naturais. Torna-se um sinal de alerta. O triângulo significa um sinal de perigo. É um convite para ficarmos atentos perante a possível morte de nossos rios e extinção de nossas montanhas.

O protesto não ocorre apenas com a inversão da cor mas também com a transmutação da forma geométrica que apresento de forma invertida. Nesta posição o triângulo representa não só o universo feminino como referimos à mãe natureza, mas também, o símbolo alquímico do elemento água. Ao unir a geometria ao título “TAMEN RESPEXIT INERTEM” - dou voz a incapacidade em se preservar rios e montanhas. Ao usar a frase: “NO ENTANTO OLHOU PARA MIM INERTE” damos voz a natureza dizendo ao Estado - não faz o suficiente para proteger-me. Este triângulo simboliza um desejo de mudança e transformação da nossa historia.

Através de uma série de intervenções vou explorar esta forma geométrica. Usarei como inspiração este novo “triângulo mineiro”. Cada vez que um triângulo for desenhado, traçado, cortado ou tricotado eu gradativamente embuo na geometria um novo hino-mantra: “TAMEN RESPEXIT INERTEM”.

Ao refazer, recriar, retraçar o ícone mineiro eu espero que a simplicidade deste gesto geométrico carregue hermeticamente a conscientização de nossa inércia coletiva existente até então - “NO ENTANTO OLHOU PARA MIM INERTE”. De agora em diante desejamos reverter nosso histórico de impunidades e irresponsabilidades recorrentes em relação à natureza. Neste momento da nossa história não mais ficaremos inertes. A destruição de nosso habitat não mais nos permite inércia.

#INERTEM

English version.

In this part of my work based on my roots in Minas Gerais, Brazil I am suggesting a reinterpretation of my homestate’s motto and a redrawing of its flag.

“LIBERTAS QUAE SERA TAMEN” is the label of Minas Gerais State which is based on a text by the Roman poet Virgil. When translated it means: "Liberty, even if delayed." Here the emphasis of our flag concentrates on the word “liberty” claimed during revolts against the Colony known as “Inconfidencia Mineira”.

But when the text in Latim is presented in its entirety “LIBERTAS QUAE SERA TAMEN RESPEXIT INERTEM” the focus of the phrase shifts to the closing word which means “inertia”.

I therefore suggest rewriting the motto of Minas Gerais using the later part of the text. “TAMEN RESPEXIT INERTEM” can be translated as “REGARDED ME IN MY IDLENESS”. By using this title I represent a culture and history based on impunity and disregard of nature by institutions - both governmental and private. It becomes a recognition that Nature observes us in our inertia, as we do nothing to protect it from the exploitations of mining embedded in the culture of the State of Minas Gerais.

With this work I not only rewrite this State’s motto but also redesign its flag. Using a black triangle instead of the original one in red, I protest against the irresponsibility of the State in the dispersion of our natural resources. It becomes a sign of mourning. A sign of warning. The triangle signals danger. It is an invitation to be attentive to the imminent peril of rivers and the extinction of mountains from the State of Minas Gerais.

I suggest not only the reversal of color but a transmutation of the geometric form which is presented in reverse. On this position the triangle represents not only the Feminine Universe which Nature belongs to, but also the ancient alchemical symbol of water. By uniting geometry to the title “TAMEN RESPEXIT INERTEM” - I make evident the incapacity of State and private institution to preserve our rivers and mountains. “REGARDED ME IN MY IDLENESS” becomes the voice of Nature looking upon structures of power: “You are doing nothing to protect me".

Through a series of interventions I will explore this geometric form. I will use this new 
“triângulo mineiro” as inspiration. Each time a triangle is drawn, traced, cut or knitted I will gradually envelop this geometry in a new hime-mantra: “TAMEN RESPEXIT INERTEM”. As if a prayer in Latim.

This is an invitation to deconstruction, retracing and recreation of an icon of Minas Gerais, and our way of living. There and everywhere.

I hope the simplicity of this gesture carries hermetically the recognition of a collective inertia existent only until now - “REGARDED ME IN MY IDLENESS”. I hope this triangle symbolizes a desire for change and transmutation of a history based on exploitation of natural resources and our habitat. That from now on, there is a reversal of our past based on recurrent impunities against Nature. In this moment of our history we no longer stay idle. The destruction of our habitat no longer allow us to do so.

M̶i̶n̶é̶RIO

Scroll down for text version in english.

Esta série de fotografias é uma tentativa de voltar ao passado. não é só um revisitar DO meu arquivo fotográfico e uma escavação de imagens, mas uma tentativa de voltar no tempo quando uma escolha talvez ainda fosse possível - a de preservar o rio e riscar o minério do mapa.

Em 2007, a mineradora Vale S.A. riscou de seu nome original o Rio Doce - COMPANHIA VALE D̶O̶ ̶R̶I̶O̶ ̶D̶O̶C̶E̶. Ao entitular este trabalho M̶I̶N̶É̶rio, E Riscar AS LETRAS INICIAIS, Tento SENSIBILIZAR A NOSSA MEMóRIA - DE QUE por trás do minério tem sempre um rio. Ou pelo menos tinha.

Aqui apresento imagens do córrego do André, um dos tributários da bacia do Rio São joão. Neste momento este afluente, assim como vilarejos e a população ribeirinha, estão ameaçadas por uma das barragens da Vale S.A. - a mina de rejeitos “Congo Soco” que está prestes a inundar e contaminar TODAS AS CERCANIAS - água, terra, fauna, flora e aR.

RIO E VIDAS estão EM SUSPENSE. Será que seremos riscados do mapa?

SE ESTE DESASTRE ACONTECER, não sERá a primeira vez, e provavelmente nem a última, que uma bacia hidrográfica no estado de minas Gerais é DESTRUÍDA. A irresponsabilidade da Mineradora Vale S.A.- a maior produtora de minério de ferro mundial - combinada com o desleixo governamental e a complacência social, já eliminaram da paisagem DE MINAS GERAIS OS ECOSISTEMAS Do rio doce e Do rio paraopeba.

TRAGO ESTEs RETRATOS à TONA, PARa QUE NÃO Restem APENAS SOMBRAS DAQUILO QUE UM DIA FOMOS. E nada mais natural do que usar A fotografia documental, já que é da ausência e presença de sombraS que a fotografia em preto e branco, pura e simples é feita.

~ Para Max Henrique Barbosa

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M̶i̶n̶é̶RIO

The series M̶I̶N̶É̶RIO is a going back to the past. Not only as a revisiting of my own photographic archive and an excavation of images, but as an attempt to go back to a time when maybe a choice could have still been made: that of preserving a river and erasing mining off the map.

In 2009, the mining company Vale S.A. officially striked out of it’s title the name of the river where its conglomerate was originated - Companhia Vale do Rio Doce. I titled this work M̶i̶n̶é̶RIO, and strickedout the word mine instead. By doing so I hope to sensitize our collective memory that behind a mine there is always a river. At least, there used to be one.

Here I present images of “Córrego do André”, one of the São João river basin tributaries. This stream, the villages and the population along the river are at this moment threatened by the talling dam of “congo Soco” owned by Vale S.A. that is about to break and could cause flooding and contamination of all surroundings - water, earth, fauna, flora and air.

River and lives are suspended by a question: What will be striked off the map?

If this crime occurs, it won’t be the first time, nor the last, a river basin from the state of Minas Gerais in Brazil is to be destroyed. The irresponsibility of the mining Company Vale do Rio Doce, now Vale S.A. - the largest producer of iron ore in the world - combined with government disregard and the complacency of society already eliminated from the landscape of Minas Gerais the ecosystems of the Rio Doce and Rio Paraopeba.

I bring these pictures to the surface, so we don’t become only a shadow of what we once were. a capacity not surprisingly so well performed by documentary photography. after all, shadows and its absence is all that a black and white photograph is made off.

~ To Max Henrique Barbosa

BORDERLINE: A MANIFESTO

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.

 

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ARTIST STATEMENT

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.

 

ACTIVISM: #BORDERLINEMANIFESTO

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

 
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borderline . noun

definitions:

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)

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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



PAST EXHIBITION

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.

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

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what is behind a postcard?

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

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.

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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:

http://bit.ly/2vADPFS

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

 

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? I’ll handwrite a Frida Kahlo quote just for you and leave the recipient field blank 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 editions@jennifercabral.com

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








How pre_Scribed postcards came to be.

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 renown 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.

 
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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.

THE HOUSE OF FRIDA

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.”

A CASA DE FRIDA

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.

VISUAL CONCEPTIVE

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.


{ TAKE A LISTEN }

 

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"



#DAILYCONCEPTIVE

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

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

FREE LOCKSCREENS & WALLPAPERS


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
 
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ACKNOWLEDGEMENT

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.