| Confluences         
Sempre vi pontos de encontro nessas imagens.
Os caminhos que escolhemos e trilhamos.
O vacilar, o ir e voltar ou, quem sabe, circundar.
As enrascadas que nos metemos. As ciladas: Ponto de aperto, nó na garganta. 
Há os encontros que nos amarramos, os pontos que nos fixamos, nos cravamos. Tão certos, nos fazem crer.
Mas há também e simplesmente o ponto do descanso, do apenas respirar, arrrrr.

Nesse momento de quarentena, o tempo que seria curto e passageiro, insiste, aperta e essas fotos me gritam! Tivemos de encontrar novos pontos, reviver alguns outros que estavam amarrados lá em um canto escuro. E em alguns cruzamentos encontramos enorme prazer.
No escuro, nossa coleção de pontos, com certeza, cresceu.
I have always seen meeting points in those images.
The paths we choose and follow.
The wavering, going back and forth or, who knows, circling.
The trouble we get into. The pitfalls: tightening point, lump in the throat.
There are the encounters that we tie, the points that we pin, we stick to. So sure, they make us believe.
But there is also and simply the point of rest, of just breathing, aaaaiiirrrr
In this moment of quarantine, the time that would be short and fleeting, insists, presses and these photos scream at me! We had to find new spots, remember some others that were tied up there in a dark corner. And in some intersections we find enormous pleasure.

In the dark, our collection of stitches has certainly grown.

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