The following is a brief selection of texts - diaristic + fictional
I’ve 300 more for you to acquire 〜
You can buy my stories in either PT / EN / FR (you choose)
I call them prescriptions for the soul; little capsules of no time & space, in which we dive in 〜
You order one, you get two more selected for you only.
They’re sent in a beautiful handmade paper package to your place, - or to someone of your choice <3
I cancelled a marriage, I cancelled it twice, I cancelled living together
Why did I did it ? I won’t say the first because it concerns you
I’m respectful that this is my intimate life exposed here, not yours
But I’ll tell the second
And this wasn't at all easy, it was a torment in fact
I realised that what I need and want the most, is silence
above anything and anyone: silence, quietness, at any given time of the day
- one that I can always disrupt; but when I want to disrupt; not imposed
So, until the day we can afford two houses within that marriage
I’m not gonna move in, I’m not gonna marry you, when you have so many urgencies
No, I’m not selfish, dear; I’m brave, fair, I’m honest, and i’m conscious of the limits
I do know that I like to cry and to sleep alone, as much as I love being fun and available
/// Catarina Neves Ricci, 2025
Will I die in this position?
Wth my hands and knees on the floor
I wait for the silence to come
With my hands and knees on the ground
Like a goat
Like a dog
I wait for the evening to quiet my heart and my womb
- my mouth
Every day, of every month, I wonder :
Will I die in this position?
In imaginary landscapes with you
In 5 years, partner
You offered me an album that was offered to you
Candies you first bought to yourself
A jacket that you bought to yourself, and you didn’t like
A wooden piece you couldn’t take on a plane with you
A few meals at home
Will I die in this position? No. I protest
On my knees. Chest looks up. No more down.
Have you noticed? Yes.
Are you Intimidated? Yes.
Good. Because
I won’t die in this position // Catarina Neves Ricci, 2020-2024
When I think of her
I think of a Horse, a bed on a Saturday, her laugh, and her favourite meals
On how she produced strange sounds; mumbled words in a language I wasn't familiar with
And would change tone, like a spell
This beast was also able to scream – which I secretely envied
There was something about her throat capacity, her voice
Now, I think it was the freedom in her
A self expression owning wings; unshaken, grounded, steady
- the thing I admired the most, the thing I miss the most
A hunter, a nurturer, a wild mother
Sheltered or not, a woman of her own
Every month she would be someone new!
- and I in awe, unable to puzzle this creature down
And happy of not having to, happy of seeing her leave
To always come back with the goods
And I write this in the past
To remind me to stay, to never leave
- to never so stupidly let her go ! // Catarina Neves Ricci, 2024
Sabe a doce de tomate teu mamilo, Amélia
Sabe a sangue, sabe a mercúrio
Sabe a séculos de guerra
Ah, e como isso me agrada, Amélia!
Saber que outros
- homens pequenos, homens grandes
Teus mamilos adornaram
Leite no escuro
Saliva ao amanhecer
Carne, gozo, dor, prazer
Doce e ácido
O teu mamilo, Amélia
És minha vida, és vida de teu filho
Doce, e ácidas as tuas ancas, Amélia // Catarina Neves Ricci, 2021
I never missed her birthday
No matter how far
I’d do anything
I’d love jazz, wear colors
Listen to weird languages in the movies
All to be with her, on the day that it was hers only
My favorite person
My love!
I couldn’t ever miss the day to celebrate
- with big peonies and fluffy cinnamon cakes
The honor to witness her existence!
I wouldn’t miss a chance to celebrate
- with long hugs
The honor of having been chosen by her to be the old man of her life
The life of the most sensational creature
That is My Daughter // Catarina Neves Ricci, 2021
Como borrão nos tecidos mais profundos de mim
- Ele lá sempre
Lavo, lavo outra vez Não sai
Busco outros que não marcam (Cedo demais? Tarde demais?)
Rins, fígado, pulmão
Ambos os hemisférios do meu cérebro
Marcados pela bandeira da sua língua
Que besta domesticada, condicionada,
Fará isto de mim?
Ou não, porque vejo a queda?
Porque os meus olhos nunca os perdi?
Ele
Que me ofende
Que não ousa sonhar
E eu que penso passar o natal
E toda a minha vida com ele // Catarina Neves Ricci, 2024
The exile
is in my case a choice
I walk towards it
deliberately
before even crosses someone else’s mind, I pack in silence
and leave.
If things aren’t fair and equal
I’m out of this garden
I prefer the desert in my own company
than the desolation
the infertility
of a garden ignored by one, or many
Self-righteous
sharp tongues
throwing words around
- to cut others’ organs
Fires that aren’t mine to burn, neither to witness
I rebel, I vomit
Better the desert !
My body is fertile enough !
I grow things alone
I trust the wind; mother of many
And I know
That with only paper and pencil, I survive any exile // Catarina Neves Ricci, 2024
HELSINKI
O território
Parece errático (Não podia estar mais correcto)
Permeados por água
Por vezes ocupados
- Meu corpo e esta terra
Independentes
Na escuridão não vemos
Mas sentimos tudo
Quem se senta à mesa por entre árvores
Quem toma banho no escuro
Quem não tem medo do corpo distante
Da mão gelada
E da Língua nova
Quem não tem medo dum novo nome // Catarina Neves Ricci, 2022
A realidade interessa-me pouco
Não tenho interesse por carros, notícias, nem pela extração
Quase tudo na realidade me entedia
Cuido da minha saúde porque quero trabalhar até tarde
E porque trabalhar significa criar com todas as partes do meu corpo
Sem espaço para o mágico! Superficial! E sem tempo!
Enfermidades das quais não padeço
Mas onde a época em que habito, sim
Onde não se alquimiza, extrai-se, extrai-se, e extrai-se
Por tudo isso a realidade interessa-me pouco // Catarina Neves Ricci, 2024
