Black Virgins of Devotion: Photography and Reflection

There are shrines, which are as old as the world and that despite everything, continue to awaken a surprising devotion among people from different countries and creeds, as if they were magnets whose magnetism attracts something that does not understand races or colors: the spirit .

I think it is convenient to look back at some of them, especially in these times, where far from being overcome, there are old flaws that seem to be back in fashion, emerging, perhaps more strongly than ever, from that mythological Pandora's Box, from where, among many other evils, it seems that stupid intransigence also came.

Racism is a tare that denigrates us all and whose inconsistency splashes on us, tainting us until we reach the dangerous levels of absurdity and barbarism.

Perhaps for this reason, I think that many of those people who fully believe in the ridiculous theory of race supremacy, should take a tour of one of these sanctuaries and then seriously meditate on what they have seen.

Huge queues of people, mostly white, waiting patiently for hours, to offer their respects to a Black Virgin, whom they venerate, who entrust their most intimate secrets and who ask for favors, trusting their divine mediation to grant the miracle.

She is Black, yes but Beautiful and in her magnanimity and wisdom, she carries with her, in the form of a universal ball, since the first men left the Cradle of Life, which apparently began in Africa, the Liber Mundi, the Book of the World.

Or what is the same: the Book of Nature and by default, the Sacred Book of Life.

NOTICE: Both the text and the accompanying photographs are my exclusive intellectual property.