Carnaval Carnival Carnevale 


Dance, play, laugh, be happy, be kind, be free.

Empower women. Respect women. Encourage them to be free.

Spread love. Live love. Be love.

Yes, you look fabulous in a bikini.





The year is about to end and it’s time to say  Спасибо.

This beautiful word is constantly in my mind: Спасибо ( read as spacibo, means Thank you)… 

This was a good year and this is the most appropriate word to say.

Last year I spent New Year’s Eve in Saint Petersburg, Russia.

I spent almost three months in Russia and it was amazing.

I discovered a rich city that looks like an open air museum, architectural monuments, impressive buildings, massive dosis of fascinating history all over the place. Beauty. The best museum I have ever visited (The Hermitage). But on top of all the aesthetical and historical wonderland, Saint Petersburg has people. I mean real people. People that even in a -27°C snowy-icy-windy-freezing weather finds smily kindness to give you helping guidance, information, directions. The Russian people seem very serious and cold at first, but give them a little sympathy and gratitude and in return you will find funny, beautiful, generous friends. I had a blast. I was so overwhelmed by every place I visited and every person I met, that I began to feel like home. Yes. Russia can be messy, unorganized, decadent and corrupt. But nothing I haven’t seen before in so many other places, including my very own. Russia has a severe winter that is somehow harmoniously balanced with its beautiful people and warm, voluptuous culture. Of course that was my impression and other opinions might differ from mine. I made friends there that I will carry for life. I will always remember but more than that I will always dream of coming back. And I will.

It’s good to know people that you can rely on. Generosity and kindness that will remain in my heart and will always echo: Спасибо.

Спасибо Oleg, Vika, Pooh, Kate, Tanya, Galina, Mariana, Nico, Kelly, Ksenya, Igor, Liza and so many lovely people that made my time in Russia so amazing!



Artwork: When it starts to snow – 30×40 (work inspired and painted in my stay in Saint Petersburg, Russia) –  AVAILABLE


A purple cat perhaps

can stand

For whatever differences

We may represent

In this ecological



Our uniquenesses

our ideas

and battles

Often speak louder

Than our loudest

Repeated words.

Not easy to live

In a society where

So many speak

But so few say anything

That is worth 


Colors yell.

They Play

They Whisper

while screaming,


what they really

want to 


Even the simplest

And most naive


Painted cat


Some times

Say: odd is good.

Our differences makes us special





Empathy for these differences

Makes us better

And allows us

To exist

In a better



possible world.

Cat love

You know the quality of a friend in the moments you have least to offer.

He can pick you up, clean, feed and hold you or he can close the dumpster.

It is very easy to be friends with someone with a nice home and car, large swimming pool and a fridge full of beer. It is easy to be friends with someone that always pleases you and brings you a certain status, benefits, easy talks, give and take, a shallow but satisfying, light approach.

It is not easy to get your hands dirty and put up with the ugly sides (or moments) of someone. Not easy to face someone’s pain and have the patience to sit beside him in silence, or even lay down on the ground with him for a while, just so he knows you understand (or not) and he is not alone. That’s what makes a real friend. That’s how you know what kind of a friend you have got, what kind of a friend you are. 

It’s easy to wiggle the tale.

But it’s the silent healing friendship that counts and makes a difference.

Cat love is not shown but felt.

No fuzz nor advertisement.

It is just there.

Goodbye 2016

It was about time. 2016 was a heavy year to bare. Brazil suffered a dirty, evil, imperialist financed, media promoted, disgusting political attack (yes it was a coup d’etat), they impeached a honest, democratically elected president and allowed Brazil to go back to curruption, poverty and dependency. Yes, you are all guilty of it. You all watched our young beautiful nation being raped, and yet, you did nothing. Your body may be going to the beach in a fancy new car, but your mind is blind, enslaved, in chains. 

I am happy 2016 will soon be over. At least metaphorically we have a new chance for better days. Yes, I am bitter about this and many othe things. And my only escape from the reality I do not cope with is to paint. I paint easy days with beautiful things to look at, peaceful times, loving people. I paint calm walls of protection, lovely china on the table with delicious cakes, bread, jam, butter, fresh brewed coffee, warm milk. I paint light curtains, beautiful sunsets, cute animals. I paint neat clothes, delicate groomed hairs, timid smiles, attemptive eyes. I paint good company and happy expectations. I paint time and space that suits the soul, embraces the eyes. I paint small treasures and details that invites your attention, your fantasy, your smiles. I paint flowers and clouds, sea and nice water kettle on the warm stove. I paint memories and dreams. I walk myself out of frustration and desappointment through colors and brushes. Striking fresh paint on immaculate canvas allows me to offer a different reality and believe in a better world. 

I am eager to start the new year. I am ready for a self built reality filled with happiness and pleasant present moments.

It is time for a new painting. Always time for a new chance.
PAINTING AVAILABLE FOR SALE – 30x40cm – acrylics on canvas – “Kökar”, 2016.

Empathy, kindness and flowers.

Kindness is better than religion, titles, possessions, better than anything money can buy. Kindness often has no name, no face, no address, because kindness is the love you can give to anyone, unconditionally. Kindness can give food and shelter disguised as charity, but its more than that. It’s much more, further and beyond guilt or duty, that’s for sure. Kindness is unpretentious, unexpected, true donation of humanity. It’s not a trade and certainly not a burden. It’s easy to get and give and in that way it’s wider than love itself. It’s not a present, not a stack of money, nor a bunch of dead flowers or a painted canvas. It is the priceless smile that is given and received with a silent hug of a million words. People who can wear the fellow man’s shoes and really understand how and why. Empathy causes kindness. Empathy is beauty beyond looks, words, things. Empathy and kindness could heal the world. We need more of it. Loads of it. 

Famiglia – Família – Familie – Family Art

Family art.


You can make memories last forever with a painting. Your kids will grow up, time will pass, but your most precious moments will remain intact in a piece of art. Thank you Dotoli Family for bringing your family to my eyes, heart and brushes. Grazie. Obrigada ❤️

Do que é feita a arte? What is art made of?

I just spent a week in an Artistic Residency that changed my life. A week that clearly gave me and taught me much more than I could ever give and teach. Projeto Âncora was born of a dream of very loving, altruistic people and became a reality and a life changing mechanism for many, now me included.

It started up as an after-school activity place for underpriviledged kids, then a circus school and finally an innovative, inspiring, amazing learning hub (school becomes an obsolete term for what they do and stand for), where kids learn whatever they have officially to learn and much, much more than that. Kids become the best version of themselves in there. They learn how to love, respect, listen, share, see…

For a whole week I sat there, under the circus tent and I painted. I had hundreds of curious eyes on me. I was surrounded and encountered many partners, story tellers, advisors, critics, helpers. I answered questions I had never thought about, I heard comments and compliments I would never thought were possible or even existed. Me and my painting were, daily, kissed, hugged and held lovingly by kids from 2 to 80 years old. And it felt good. In fact, I truely believe I was never loved this much. 

In return I also loved. I listened, observed, accepted, laughed, cried, talked, learned, painted. 

Art is made of many things. It’s an individual process inserted in a very collective one. I learned many things this week, but the greatest lesson for me was understanding that love is the essencial raw material to compose any and everything good and beautiful that urges to exist. Life needs love and Art is definetely made of it.

I deeply thank every and each child, teacher, friend and person I met at Projeto Ancora this week. You all make the world a better place to live in. Humanity stands a chance because of people and places like this.

Visit their website:


Eu acabei de voltar de uma semana em uma residência artística que mudou minha vida. Uma semana que me deu e me ensinou muito mais do que eu claramente poderia dar e ensinar. Projeto Âncora nasceu de um sonho de pessoas muito amorosas e altruístas e tornou-se uma realidade e um mecanismo de mudança de vida para muitos, agora eu the também incluída.

Começou como um lugar de atividades pós escola, para as crianças desfavorecidas, em seguida, uma escola de circo e, finalmente, um inovador, inspirador e incrível centro de aprendizado (“escola” torna-se um termo obsoleto diante do que eles fazem e representam), lá as crianças aprendem o que eles têm oficialmente que aprender e muito, muuuuuito mais do que isso. Lá dentro as crianças tornam a melhor versão de si mesmas. Eles aprendem a amar, respeitar, ouvir, compartilhar, a enxergar …

Durante uma semana inteira me sentei lá, sob a tenda de circo e pintei. Eu tinha centenas de olhos curiosos sobre mim. Eu estava cercada e assessorada por muitos parceiros, contadores de histórias, conselheiros, críticos, ajudantes. Eu respondi perguntas às quais eu nunca havia imaginado, ouvi comentários e elogios que eu nunca pensei que fossem possíveis ou sequer que existissem. Eu e minha pintura eram, diariamente, beijadas, abraçadas e carinhosamente acolhidas por centenas de crianças de 2 a 80 anos. Foi muito bom. Na verdade, eu acho que nunca havia sido tão amada.

Em troca, eu também amei. Eu escutei, observei, aceitei, ri, chorei, falei, aprendi, pintei.

Arte é feita de muitas coisas. É um processo individual inserido em um outro processo, muito colectivo. Eu aprendi muitas coisas esta semana, mas a maior lição para mim foi compreender que o amor é matéria-prima essencial para compor tudo e qualquer coisa que seja realmente boa e bela e que precise existir. A vida precisa de amor e arte é definitivamente feita da mesma coisa.

Eu agradeço profundamente a cada criança, professor, amigo e pessoa que conheci no Projeto Âncora nesta semana. Vocês todos fazem do mundo um lugar melhor para se viver. A humanidade tem uma chance, graças a causas, pessoas e lugares como este.

Saiba mais sobre o Projeto Âncora:

Fotos: Mara Nogueira



Empower women, change the world.

President Dilma Rousseff receiving the painting I made for her ❤️🌹

Last year, when President Dilma Rousseff won the elections, I was so happy and proud of it that I painted a painting honouring her as a woman, as a mother, a grandmother, and the great politician she is. It was deep from my heart, because being myself a woman and surviving in a man dominated society, i can only imagine the difficulties she endures every single day, on position she is at. The painting was called: “Dilma and the little brazilians”. It shows her in the center, with her grandchild and 11 other kids, all surrounding her and being thankful for he love and dedication. There are whites, blacks, indigenous, oriental, mixed races, boys and girls representing 12 stars, signs, months and twelve works (like Hercules), wishing her enough strength and love to carry on her work, mission and calling. This is the woman, who is crucified by the brazilian fascist media on a daily basis since her first run. She is responsible for taking 40 million brazilians that were below extreme lines of poverty and misery and bringing them to a better life, with access to nutrition, health and education. This woman, whom the brazilian stupid, arrogant and cruel right-wing hate so much, is responsible for improving life of millions of brazilian children that, for the first time in history, was recognized as a country where it’s children are no longer die of hunger and malnutrition (according to official UN reports).  This woman is taking the blame for a society filled with corruption when in reality she is the first one to really come forward, open up and fight it. She is insulted, mocked, humiliated by the most disgusting, evil and ignorant people and yet, she stands strong and keeps working with bravery and determination that only the most noble souls can have. She commited and risked her life to justice and democracy since she was a teenager, fighting dictatorship, going to prision and being horrendously tortured for years. She never gave up. The pressure and torture she suffers now isn’t much different from what she faced 40 years ago. In fact, the evil powers are still very similar, perhaps even the same (greedy old men who never give up on their thirst for power through economical and social domination). But she stands fiercely as a mother for this nation. 

As in the painting, she stands lovingly and proudly.

She is ready to fight to her very last breath for a better life, future and country of the children she holds.

Thank you Mrs. Dilma Vana Rousseff. Your courage and strength is writting a new history to Brazil.

Your love will conquer ignorance, greed and hate and will make a better life for those who were never remembered, protected or cared for in our society.

P.S.: thank you dear Juneia Batista (from CUT – Brazil’s biggest workers Union) for your kindness, love and help on making it possible and bringing my painting to President Dilma’s hands. 

You have my deepest gratitude! 😘

No ano passado, quando a Presidenta Dilma Rousseff ganhou as eleições, eu fiquei tão feliz e orgulhosa dela que pintei um quadro para honrar a mulher, a mãe, a avó, e a grande estadista que ela é. Era do fundo do meu coração, porque eu mesma, sendo mulher e sobrevivendo em uma sociedade dominada por homens, só posso imaginar as dificuldades que ela enfrenta a cada dia, na posição que ela se encontra. A pintura se chama: “Dilma e os brasileirinhos”. Ele mostra a Presidenta ao centro, com seu neto e outras 11 crianças, ao redor dela, gratos por seu amor e dedicação. Há brancos, negros, indígenas, orientais, raças miscigenadas, meninos e meninas que representam 12 estrelas, signos, meses e doze trabalhos (como os de Hércules), desejando-lhe força e amor suficientes para continuar seu trabalho, sua missão e legado. Esta é a mulher, que é crucificada diariamente pela mídia fascista brasileira, desde seu primeiro mandato. Ela é responsável por tirar 40 milhões de brasileiros que estavam abaixo das linhas de extrema pobreza e miséria e trazê-los para uma vida melhor, com acesso à nutrição, saúde e educação. Esta mulher, a quem o brasileiro estúpido, arrogante, cruel e limitado da direita tanto odeia, é a responsável por melhorar a vida de milhões de crianças brasileiras que, pela primeira vez na história, foi reconhecido como um país onde as crianças não morrem mais de fome e desnutrição (de acordo com relatórios oficiais da ONU). Esta mulher está levando a culpa por uma sociedade cheia de corrupção, quando na realidade ela é a primeira a realmente expor e lutar contra tudo isso. Ela é insultada, escarnecida, humilhada pelas pessoas mais repugnantes, más e ignorantes e ainda assim ela está forte e resoluta, trabalhando com a bravura e determinação que só as almas mais nobres poderiam ter. Ela dedicou e arriscou sua vida, desde a adolescência, pela justiça e democracia, lutando contra a ditadura, indo para prisão e sendo terrivelmente torturada por anos. Ela nunca desistiu. A pressão e tortura que ela sofre agora não é muito diferente da que ela enfrentou há 40 anos. Na verdade, os poderes do mal ainda são muito semelhantes, talvez até os mesmos (seres gananciosos que nunca desistem da sede do poder, da dominação econômica e social). Mas ela é uma lutadora incansável, uma verdadeira mãe para esta nação. Como na pintura, ela está cercada de motivos, amor e força . Ela está pronta para lutar até seu último suspiro por uma vida melhor e pelo futuro dos brasileirinhos que hoje estão em seu colo, em suas mãos. Obrigada Sra. Dilma Vana Rousseff. Sua coragem e força está escrevendo uma nova história para o Brasil. Seu amor vai vencer a ignorância, a ganância e o ódio e vai trazer uma vida melhor para aqueles que nunca foram lembrados, protegidos ou cuidados em toda a história do nosso país. 

Short story about broken dreams (and other fairy tales)


Oh, the never ending utopia… To be or not to be (loved), could it go like this? Oh, never mind…

The ever ending love is the ultimate goal.

Be aware that real, mature love includes all kinds of feelings, an ecossystem of sensations. From anger, frustration to tenderness, care, (and of course great sex). All the good and the bad, together, separately, alternately, because real love is like real life: it’s no fairy tale.

The prince, sometimes, is mistaken for the dragon and the dragon, many times, is not as cruel and deadly in real life.

At times it is the king who’s the real bitch and the dragon is just a pet.

Perhaps the prince is a toad, but again, sometimes, a toad is just a toad.

Doubt, confusion, pain: so many unnecessary tears, so many loving kisses under the shiny moon, all gone to waste.

We learn with that too.

The more we love, we fall, we allow, the more we learn.

There are also lazy breakfasts, small unexpected notes of appreciation, little surprises, lovely romantic dates and candle lit home made dinners.

Fairy tales don’t present you that. Real life does.

It’s necessary to pay attention to the details, to read the messages, even the not so hidden ones.

The real prince might be the boy next door, with a beer belly or a six pack (lovely eyes and smile too) and he will suddenly appear and knock on the door to rescue his fragile princess, dead by an enchanted apple or sleeping for eternity because of an unfair curse. Or maybe she is just deep sleeping after a long night of caipirinhas and laughter with her good friends.

She can’t hear the desperate call of her prince charming… But she sleeps to the sound og good music like Jason Mraz, Cold Play or, perhaps, good old Mozart or even better: sweet bossa nova.

If he really wants her, he will insist.

He will knock that door down if he needs to.

And when the time is right it all will happen.

She doesn’t need a crown to be royal. 

She needs a good dress and nice shoes, but fats, wrinkles and freckles are also part of her charming package. She is good. Not much, only the absolute necessary.

There is not such a thing as fairy tales.

But love is definetely and absolutely possible. 

Not perfect: possible.

We all deserve it but you have to grow up to get it right.
PS: you can check out this and other lovely visual poetries at Galleria Maria, at Mariankatu, 14, Helsinki, Finland