There is a Brazilian saying that says “carnival affair does not go up the mountain”. It was the unofficial carnival opening when Helio and I kissed for the first time. Rio de Janeiro, midsummer, 40oC, one Capricorn and one Virgo. There was no better time to know each other than the party of the flesh, of bodies’ cult, of passion and samba.
After Ash Wednesday it did not take long until he came to live with me and Fernando Donato and Roberta, dear friends, roommates, and talented photographers who divided their time between capturing ordinary impressive “insta”ants and time to embrace our ideas of “self-promotion” / “self-acceptance” online via Instagram..
“Bixinho” is an affectionate term of northeastern Brazil, to refer to someone close, and it is about affection the images here present, about different affections: the affection of the photographers to the art of photography, the romantic-sexual affection between two lovers, the affection of friendship.
“These photos can be a gun for those who hate, for those who try to deny our very existence, our love, our family. But our intention is not to hurt-yes, we are fighters, but if our art, our bodies can be weapons we chose to fight side by side the ones who love, staying strong, staying together. In the midst of chaos, hope resists, Marielle Vive!”
“And our bodies become resistance, beyond any and every art.” (Raí Gandra, bixinho)