Elton Panamby asked us when he saw the work Sepultura, at the Contemporary Art Museum of Ceará (MAC Dragão / Brazil), in December 2019. How to cut the world with delicacy? We asked ourselves, Isadora Ravena and Lucas Dilacerda, when we sent the Museum a chair with 700 razor blades, on a pile of cotton, surrounded by 7 tombs of sand.
To question how to cut the world with delicacy is to question how to decolonize by speaking the language that colonizes us. The language that mutilates and kills us, domesticates and imprisons us. How to cut the colonizer 's tongue with the razor of our existences? We need a sharp tongue like a snake's tongue. Sharp and forked. The tongue becomes a blade, sharp and surgical. At the tip of the tongue is a poison that contaminates and proliferates the acid that corrodes grammatical concrete. How to decolonize by writing in the language that kills us? How to decolonize by thinking with the language that colonizes us? It is between the tooth and the jaw that the blade hides, Brazilian travestis have taught us since the second half of the 20th century. We now ask: How to cut the world with delicacy?
The world is a great reflector of light that blinds us with its luminosity. It takes more than ever to close your eyes to the blinding lights of the world and learn to open your eyes to the invisible darkness of the earth. To dream with your eyes open is to know how to dodge the lights of the world to capture the darkness of the unknown land to come.
The snakes have no eyelids. The snakes don't blink. Snakes’ eyes are covered by a fine scale. A delicate scale. We pluck out our eyes to see the invisible darkness of the earth. We pop our ears to hear the silent wave of the sea. We tear our skin to feel the pulsating flesh of the body. We bite our tongue to taste the acid taste of life. I cut myself and the cut cuts me.
It is not a «I cut» but a «cut me». Cut me and transmute me. Our eyes are red. Our eardrums hear tinnitus. Our breath stops. Our dry mouth. Our skin perspires. I melt to the point that there is no more «I» left. It is no longer possible to conjugate any verb because there are no more subjects. All problems start when they teach us to speak «me». And for me to cut the «me» and be cut myself, it is necessary to know: How to cut the world with delicacy?
The world is a wound on Earth. The world teaches us that cutting is impossible. He whispered in our ears. If the world is a wound on Earth, what are we saying? That it is with the cut that we will heal the wound. We will need to ask: How to delicately cut the world? With an arrow, with a syringe, with a dose of testosterone, with a pump of estradiol, with a pile of cotton, with a word, with a bath, with a razor blade. If the world is a wound on the surface of the earth, we will need to crawl on a land blended by the norm. By the norm and the language that imprisons us. Snakes crawl on their wombs. A delicate movement, the boat's imminence. How to cut the world with delicacy?
What words have we allied with? If words give us the world, what world is that made known to us? What words do we need to forget for new ones to be born? How to cut the grammatical lexicon? Punch, crumble, corrode, fork, collapse the tongue. I am a drop of sun on the earth. I am a moonlight in the gloom. I am a storm wave at sea. I am a thunder of rain in the ocean. I am a lava diamond on the mountain. I am the thorn poison in the flower. I am the sharp tongue of the answer. I am the sharp and delicate blade of the world. I'm not. How to cut the world with delicacy?