Kadosh derives from the Hebrew, it translates: HOLY, meaning: separated, separation of natures, of common, impure things.
As a child, one of my favorite activities with my grandfather, was exploring the cemetery near where we lived. My eyes always turned to the photos that recalled those lying there, fixed on the marble and granite, as well as the dates of birth and death that accompanied them.
Recently, back in the same path, I noticed a wall where the bones and objects that adorn these cemented squares of identical proportions are stored.
Several saints without heads, thirds, umbanda guides and other objects accumulated in a true assemblage, made by someone I never had the chance to meet. It is an immobilized reality, projected by a perpetual movement of the emotions, reality of memories and feelings in ruins.
Researching the torments of humanity, I turned to Francisco Goya, who between 1810 and 1820 created a series of prints called The Disasters of War. Plate 39 caught my attention: mutilated human figures advocate images of the saints captured by my camera.
I say a parallel between the representation of the war of Spain and France by Goya, and the decapitation of the saints as a form of sacrifice and exorcism of demons we kept inside of us. It is an internal search inside and outside the object.
For now, Kadosh is a series of nine digital images manipulated to the blue color, which for me could represent loneliness.
São Paulo, Brazil