Tropical

_{So this is a work i started for fun, just because i thought it had potencial, but didn't came out quite as i expected... Any suggestions for improvement?}

Siouxsie & The Banshees:: Hong Kong Garden

Cakes, The House Sniffer

This one i took a long time ago, on the summer of 2008, at a fest called Sudoeste.

Sand Captains

_{During the holidays, at Praia da Areia Branca}

One Night Stand

_{Mixed Technique}

Cidades Invisiveis:: Doroteia

Cidades Invisiveis:: Octávia

And this is why I think this guy is genious

_{"My name is Brandon Boyd. I am a Los Angeles native, a Vegan sympathizer, an artist by day and come nightfall I sing in a band called Incubus. I am suspicious of religion, advertising and know-it-alls. My teeth will one day fall out from overconsumption of licorice. My closest friend on the Earth is a dog from France. I sleep diagonally until I have company, then I sleep lengthwise. I am straight, yet I adore sparkling mineral water. I have a bionic right leg as a result of a freakgardening accident. My right eye goes lazy after about 3am. If you feed me after midnight, I multiply. My name, when translated literally, means 'Broom-Hill' which I find horrifyingly exotic. I live in an old building that at one point in the 1900's was a working brothel. As a result, the ghosts of under paid and over worked prostitutes roam my hallways. So, there is a lingering smell of cheap perfume on the second story of my home after 3am, which might explain my occasional lazy eye. I am allergic to milk and as a result have never had an ice cream party. You may have just heard the sounds of very small violins playing behind that last comment, but don't feel bad for me; I have sorbet parties at every Equinox and spend about half a day thereafter happily cleaning the 'sticky' out of my fingernails. My right knee is named Chet and my left is Garrison. Everything I wear once belonged to someone else with the specific exception of socks and underpants."}

Make Yourself

_{This work was made from abstract "spots", that e had to join and make a composition that meant something to us, using only china ink.}

I chose the music "Make Yourself" from Incubus, to ilustrate, so i make something with attitude, personality, and some violence; something that would cause a strong visdual impact.

Hockney's Villa Sousa

Ilustra-te

Ah, broken is the golden bowl! the spirit flown forever!Let the bell toll! -a saintly soul floats on the Stygian river - And, Guy De Vere, hast thou no tear? -weep now or never more!See! on yon drear and rigid bier low lies thy love, Lenore!Come! let the burial rite be read -the funeral song be sung! - An anthem for the queenliest dead that ever died so young - A dirge for her, the doubly dead in that she died so young.

"Wretches! ye loved her for her wealth and hated her for her pride,And when she fell in feeble health, ye blessed her -that she died!How shall the ritual, then, be read? -the requiem how be sungBy you -by yours, the evil eye, -by yours, the slanderous tongueThat did to death the innocence that died, and died so young?"

Peccavimus; but rave not thus! and let a Sabbath songGo up to God so solemnly the dead may feel no wrong!The sweet Lenore hath "gone before," with Hope, that flew beside,Leaving thee wild for the dear child that should have been thy bride - For her, the fair and debonnaire, that now so lowly lies,The life upon her yellow hair but not within her eyes - The life still there, upon her hair -the death upon her eyes.

Avaunt! tonight my heart is light. No dirge will I upraise,But waft the angel on her flight with a paean of old days!Let no bell toll! -lest her sweet soul, amid its hallowed mirth,Should catch the note, as it doth float up from the damned Earth.To friends above, from fiends below, the indignant ghost is riven - From Hell unto a high estate far up within the Heaven - From grief and groan to a golden throne beside the King of Heaven."

Lenore, Edgar Allan Poe

Child's Play_ Dazed Magazine

_{Growing up is hard to do. Any one at the Puffin Room in SoHo on Saturday night would have agreed. Some even had the scars to prove it. Among them were the nineteen young artists who took part in “the Playground,” a showcase curated by Jillian Leigh Federman and Tanya Rosenstein with help from New York City-based photographer Dana Lauren Goldstein. Their collaborative effort, which began over the summer, resulted in an imaginative look into adolescence and what it means to grow up. For some, it is something better left forgotten. But for others, it is something to be cherished and celebrated, even prolonged. In his photos, Ben Rayner captured his friends during their wild nights in London while Anton Glamb gathered remnants of a heavy night of partying for his installation. Scott Shannon chose to use Crayola Crayons to draw portraits of himself and an ex-girlfriend while Will Robbins constructed a larger-than-life rosary made entirely of jacks and Suzette Lee constructed a life-sized teepee out of paper. Among the other artists featured in the show are: Jonathan Beer, Claudia Bumbac, Tim Diet, Peter Giang, Jason Matthew Lee, Jimmy Limit, Jonathan Matas, Ian McGillivray, Pablo Power, Emma Sheriden, Gordon Stevenson and Robert S L Waltzer. The show also featured work by Federman, whose two pieces were inspired by and included real objects from her childhood, and Goldstein, whose photography showcased the marks of adolescence as experience by her friends – scars, bruises, bloody noses and all.“There’s a time in your life when you have to grow up,” Goldstein says. “You realize then that the world isn’t such a pretty place unless you make it. In New York, you get disregarded because of your age. We’re just trying to show people that it’s not how old you are, but what you make of everything that matters.” Rosenstein agrees: “Young artists shouldn't be overlooked. We are the next generation, and we do have something to say.” So, fans, young and old, braved freezing temperatures to take part in the celebration because, in some way, we can all relate to memories of the blood, sweat and tears that go into keeping childhood dreams alive. Because although times may change, the act of growing up and learning to let go never does.}