vídeo 4k | cor | estéreo | 6min38seg
Antes mesmo de existir vila, eles já povoavam a serra e os montes, morro afora. Signo da chapada, entranhavam-se feito gente pelas fendas das pedras onde o solo era raso e onde não faltava sol. Tudo indica, foram quem apelidou o vilarejo que cresceu às custas da extração quando dele se tirava o diamante enviado primeiro à Lençóis e, de lá, pra mais longe. Pela abundância, nomearam o povoado em seu apogeu. Até que o curso da vida mudara o nome da aldeia e também seu próprio rumo. Por ali, os xique-xiques sempre tiveram função. Foram tanto alimento como remédio. Acompanharam o feijão preto no prato – e assim o fazem até hoje. Foram comida pro povo e pro pouco gado que se tinha, em especial em tempos de seca. E não só. Curaram também a digestão, resolveram intestino preso e fizeram valer seus efeitos contra inflamação. Mas para colhê-los, para apanhá-los do chão, só queimando. Há que se tacar fogo – fogo esse que por algum motivo nunca se espraia ao redor. O que toma brasa são só seus espinhos: espinhos que já serviram o povoado de alfinetes; e também suas barbas brancas de acúleos que apontavam ao poente, servindo de bússola.
[texto Lola Fabres]
4k video | color | stereo | 6min38sec
Long before the village existed, they already populated the serras and mountains, up and down the hills. Sign of the Chapada, they sprawled like people throughout the rock clefts where the soil was shallow and the sun abundant. Evidently, they were the ones who gave a nickname to the small village that began growing as a result of the mining activity that removed diamonds, sending them first to Lençóis and, from there, farther away. Due to their abundance, the town was named after them during the mining heyday. Until the course of life changed the name of the village and the way it was headed as well. Around there, the cactus known as xique-xique has always played a role. It was both food and medicine. It was served alongside black beans—and still is today. It was food for people and the little livestock they had, especially during droughts. Not just that. It also cured indigestion, cleared up constipation, and acted against inflammation. But to collect the cactus, to pick it up from the ground, you have to burn it first. You have to set fire to the it—fire, which, for some reason, never spreads to the surrounding area. What catches ablaze are its spines: spines that once provided the town with pins; as well as the white beards in the spines that always point West, serving as a compass.
[text Lola Fabres]
Coming Together is the Beginning, McColl Center, Charlotte, USA, 2023