I miss judo! Due to the psychotic outbreak I had in September, I’m away from training so my brain can recover and re-establish. What I miss the most is the fatigue that the training provides: that fatigue of feeling the body contracted in a physical expression of pain; that tiredness in which the nights become longer and heavier because the muscles do not relax … that tiredness of when we are too involved still in the training that, although finished, is made present by the endorphins and adrenaline that make the bloodstream tracks of formula 1, leaving us with an excitement and energy capable of running to the end of the Universe, where God is present and fills the void that manifests there. I miss all this because it is naturally in me – my body is impregnated (total immersion!) – of a competitive ambition that pleases me and throws me to a better version: the best of me is yet to arrive! It is in this bed of hope that my dreams fall asleep and they are contagious with positive energy: the Universe – Almighty God – will listen to my desires.
“I APPRECIATE THE RHYTHM TO WHICH MY BODY DROPS EACH WATER TEAR THAT EXTENDS IN ALL THE LATITUDES OF MY HUMANISM.”
I miss the sweat that ran down my body and left me wet, drenched in my work. I miss the sweat that trickled from my sensible, conceivable understanding, and painted on the palpable horizon – tangible – my medals and the defeated battles – the competitions are won in training! I long for the sweat that ran through my flesh, being the visible evidence of the disturbances and doubts that flowed eagerly in the delight of its watery nature. Sweat is transparency, sweat is sincerity. In Judo we fought barefoot since footwear could bring division among its practitioners. Thus, a manifesto is established that fecundates the multicultural diversity and foments the union between the athletes of Judo. Sweat participates with the same prevalence. It is surrender and devotion; certainty of a commitment, uncertainty of a daydream. Sweat is the sensory proof – the expression of a physical and biological imposition. I appreciate the rhythm to which my body drips every tear of water that extends in all the latitudes of my Humanism. Sweating is the work of existing. How do you face the sweat that runs down your forehead? It’s all in you!
CARTER B. REY
Photographer: Fábio Caetano
Make-up: Ani Toledo
Styling: Carter B. Rey
Coordination: Marta F. Cardoso