It emanates effluvia of aromatic scents of essences of fragrances that we still cannot smell because it is like looking at your hand full of seeds of different species and not knowing what you have in your hands, all alike and all different, they need to pass through odourless water and smelly earth for this deeply repressed smell to burst forth.

This piece, untitled, reminds me of the water that runs across spaces and wets it finds without choosing perfumes, seeking the earth in which to transplant seeds from other totally unknown places.

You make things to lose sight of them and someone else collects them to keep them, so to speak, the strange reasons for what we choose to keep are found in the secret reasons for what we make. Making or choosing, the reasons remain secret and strange even if they are told.

Joana Cera, March 2006

If the earth were always wet

Licked earth, soaked earth

Fragrant earth

As it is

Pure geometry in disguise

Always latent

Always expressing itself

Generous merciless Mother

Pure essential poetry

Gauntly incarnate

Concentrically centred

Seed of the Universe

Cultivated in the void

Of an ellipse

Joana Cera