In the name of the mother and the father (2020-)

Growing up I felt an emptiness caused by my incapacity to understand myself. I was diagnosed with autism when I was 18 years old. To this day it is still difficult for me to approach this subject. I am aware there are many others like me, several of those who never received the diagnosis. The Center for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) of the United States Department of Health and Human Services: women represent one in four people diagnosed with Autistic Spectrum Disorder (ASD). But new studies show that spectrum carriers often go unnoticed because the assessment criteria are based on the male behavioral stereotype. It’s within the family, listening to teachings of the past, brought to me by my mother and my father, that I learnt how to behave. Ten years after the ASD diagnosis and I am still trying to put my mental confusion in order: in the borders of photography, literature, theatricality and documentation I put in self portraits and textual images the strangeness of my relationships with myself and my parents, it seems like I’m creating a map of two worlds longing to touch each other. ** The anguish before the government’s neglect in the midst of the health crisis, of Covid-19, in Brazil, with its more than 600 thousand dead, changed my perspective about photography. If they choose the bodies that should or shouldn’t live, if we are isolated, I understand that we need to narrate ourselves. Resist.