How does one connect with the invisible women of Brazil, distant from the world of bootees?

She prayed out of despair; her mother loved to pray, she loved to swim. She had a habit of telling others to take a bath. She thought that by washing the outside, she could also cleanse the inside. One day she discovered that to cleanse the soul, she needed more than water and soap. Maria did not believe in naive kindness. She was suspicious of the feminine calvary, a place instituted by her mother: A woman must accept the cross, mortify herself, surrender to sacrifice. Pure vanity, is humility apparently to like to suffer? No! She refused, in the eyes of others, to be recognized as a heroine. She did not want to be an example to anyone, just to invent herself: is that enough? One Maria among many: full of grace, without smile, without sanctity and without a veil. Unveiled. Everyone has sins. Family is a place of injustice. When there are many children, love is not enough for everyone. It is always lacking: a mother likes to give more love to her son. A woman, in the countryside, had to make do with the love of animals. She admired the chickens – cheerful, frisky, hysterical: the pig is lazy, dirty, messy. The horse, an elegant male, was born to conquer. There are men who conquer just by arriving and looking. It even hurts. She liked men and horses.

With the magic of rivers in her chest, she wrote to alleviate the pain, to sustain it in hope: anguish cannot be killed, it carries signs that save us and guarantee us an ontological flight. She was enchanted with words. There are soft words and hard words. With them, the incendiary soul is emptied, and beauty is created. Her favorite pastime was feeling, today people prefer to buy than to feel and love. She got wet from feeling so much – plowing the past, appeasing ghosts, subterranean mischief. Fantasies that protect us from madness. How to stock up on stories where consistent and flavorful experiences nap? Maria could not look at the pots and not see transcendence. Cooking is producing meaning – soaking feelings, words. Seasoning, along with the meat, sorrows and resentments. Marinating consciousness, preparing forgiveness. The story I try to tell is woven in embers – fire that burns, emotion that soothes and touches a piece of the sky. The encounter of the woman with the truth, the right language to affirm herself in it. When that happens, it is epiphany, effervescent joy. Maria, as all Brazilian invisible women!

© Beatriz Esmer

Charcoal Drawing – Brazilian Women