Mariana Palma: Soma: Casa Triângulo, São Paulo, Brazil

23 September - 4 November 2017
Installation Views



Object of my most desperate desire, make me into an instrument of your pleasure, yes, know that every era of swift renewal of the means of graphic reproduction stimulates the eye armed with a scissors and razor knife. As when from flowery meads the hill’s shadow steals, it is an arena of touched, swallowed and cut stimuli, where to enter in these bonds is to be free.

I delve into the direct clearness of the sky and clutch the sun in my hand. Dimmed by new textures and images, I yearn to inhabit the body that flows from your skirts, fertilizing it with something of my own sap. So licence my roving hands, and let them go, before, behind, between, above, below.

The-look-the-hand-collage-painting that wants the erotic presence of the secret covered by spangled shine. Licking eyes, twisting hair, so much body for what! Because if there is a body, the deceased falsely gains some afterlife soaked in milk. The phallic sprouts from the chalice, or the vulva from the fold of the stem.

I drip moving colors into the water; then where my hand is set, my seal shall be. I let the yellow drops blend with the petal of the flower in the bunch. In a garland waterfall. I plant diadems and wait for the moment when the whole is much more than the parts. It is noon, it is midnight, it is every hour of the day. The waste, the pleasure of abundance and the exaggeration of desire – way, way beyond (and less than) discrete elegance.

I gather textures of robes folded one thousand times over themselves. I want to put them into ecstasy. I want them to be a body in place of the body that I don’t have.

I wear them, but I would be happy if you give me, for just a few ample moments the faraway and pearl-like nudity – full nakedness!

All joys are due to a body; as souls unbodied, bodies unclothed must be.
The painstaking details of the painting are seductive and blinding like the sunshine that I have in my hand. Forget the making and seek sensuousness. Do anything, but for the love of God (or of the two of us): BE.


Paulo Miyada