art

All sides of the story

Portuguese below /Português abaixo:

This painting is a triptyc. That means that it is made by 3 different paintings, composing one story or image. They work independently but makes more sense together. If you see only each isolated image, different narratives are possible. Is the girl alone in the room? Is the dining room empty? is the woman sad and lonely? But together it is possible to contextualize and create a whole new story and better understand the dynamics of each character and unfold a wider narrative.

I suggest us to consider that life itself is a multiplicity of triptychs. Many, many stories composing a wider narrative of events. What story interests us most? Who tells the facts? What facts are predominant, defended, relevant, true? Everything matters and all sides have their own version of the facts, os the truth. Wars are not disconnected from this perception. Racism either. Is it terrorism or defense? Is it violence ou reaction? All stories have a context, a beginning, a perspective and many sides, many factual or possible narratives.

Nothing, and I mean NOTHING, justifies violence, war, racism. And yet, it is more present than ever.

It is very frustrating to see what’s happening in the world.
Makes me angry, upset, sad, depressed to see the insane orchestra of media and nations blinding and deafening the masses. We are all puppets being played by the same old crows. We are supporting one cause and helping to massacre others. But here is the plot twist: we are only seeing one picture. Some people are defending one painting and not seeing the other paintings. Some people are raging against one image and ignoring the rest of the images that compose the whole picture. Some didn’t even see a single painting, they are just trusting blindly someone that told the story about the one painting that interests them most.

How far will this insanity last?
How long will humanity insist on pointing its guns on themselves and ignoring the bigger picture?

If art can’t make you see, nothing can.

Esta pintura é um tríptico. Isso significa que é feito por 3 pinturas diferentes, compondo uma história ou imagem. Eles trabalham de forma independente, mas fazem mais sentido juntos. Se você vir apenas cada imagem isolada, diferentes narrativas são possíveis. A menina está sozinha no quarto? A sala de jantar está vazia? a mulher está triste e solitária? Mas juntos é possível contextualizar e criar uma história totalmente nova e entender melhor a dinâmica de cada personagem e desdobrar uma narrativa mais ampla.

Sugiro que consideremos que a própria vida é uma multiplicidade de trípticos. Muitas, muitas histórias compondo uma narrativa mais ampla de eventos. Qual história mais nos interessa? Quem conta os fatos? Que fatos são predominantes, defendidos, relevantes, verdadeiros? Tudo importa e todos os lados têm sua própria versão dos fatos, a verdade. As guerras não estão desconectadas dessa percepção. O racismo também. É terrorismo ou defesa? É violência ou reação? Todas as histórias têm um contexto, um começo, uma perspectiva e muitos lados, muitas narrativas factuais ou possíveis.

Nada, e quero dizer NADA, justifica a violência, a guerra, o racismo. E, no entanto, está mais presente do que nunca.

É muito frustrante ver o que está acontecendo no mundo.
Me deixa com raiva, chateado, triste, deprimido ao ver a orquestra insana da mídia e das nações cegando e ensurdecendo as massas. Somos todos fantoches sendo tocados pelos mesmos corvos. Estamos apoiando uma causa e ajudando a massacrar outras. Mas aqui está a reviravolta na história: estamos vendo apenas uma foto. Algumas pessoas estão defendendo uma pintura e não vendo as outras pinturas. Algumas pessoas estão se enfurecendo contra uma imagem e ignorando o resto das imagens que compõem a imagem inteira. Alguns nem viram uma única pintura, estão apenas confiando cegamente em alguém que contou a história da pintura que mais lhes interessa.

Até onde vai durar essa loucura?
Até quando a humanidade insistirá em apontar suas armas para si mesma e ignorar o quadro maior?

Se a arte não pode fazer você ver, nada pode.

Utopia

This work is called ”Together we can reach the stars”.
It is about the wishful thinking of a society where people, helping each other, could reach higher goals for humanity. It is about, hand by hand, making something better which everyone could benefit from. Not a polarized world of opposites, but a world where everyone counts and matters, above profit and interests.

The world is killing itself based on division. There is not them and us, its all we. Greed, territorialism and insanity is rulling and everyone is loosing. There are wars everywhere, at this very moment, but some wars attain out mercy, while others are completely ignored. Why? Is it because one could kill you and the other presents no risk to you? If that is the case, I bring sad news: you are already dead inside.

The world, from this naive artist’s perspective, looks like this: The planet is a big beautiful school and some kids are not allowed to learn, play and eat there. Other kids are grounded during recession but they didn’t do any wrong. Some kids are overfed, overdressed, over indulged and even given free grades and stars, while others are starving, cold, being bullied and punished without any reason. Some kids are better than others because of their surnames, skin color, the amount of money their parents hold in their bank accounts. Would you like your kid to attend that school? Would he be bullying or bullied?

Stop insanity.

Stop allowing the bullies to decide who thrives and who perishes.

If you can’t see the whole picture, or if you cant see both sides, you are part of the problem, not part of the solution.

Together we can reach the stars, but against each other we are doomed, collectively, to fail.

Luciana Mariano, March 2022.

Love at last

Four years ago

I found you

You found me

We found one another.

All the bad, the heavy, the painful

Just vanished away 

because of us

Together

Everything else disappeared

And we had the opportunity

To build something new

Something we wanted

and long deserved.

Everything around us

Became lighter

Easier

Better.

We are for each other 

the safe harbor

the cozy home

the warm rays of sunshine

on our bare skin

that nourishes our souls

Effortlessly

We give each other 

what we always dreamed of

We walk alongside 

and we thrive in love

Harri, you are the perfect combination of everything I want

Happy anniversary 🌹🥂

L❤️H

Oferenda

pelo direito de existir, ir e vir

sem medo, sem justificativas, sem desculpas, sem culpas

de ser gente, ser mulher, ser preta, ser trans, bixa, travesti

de ser quem se é, com consciência ou com fé

ser respeitade, de ter oportunidade, de ser livre de verdade

Que assim seja, axé

Meditation
Storytelling

There is a place, in the deep, vast blue planet, where we can always meet and rest.

Where we can just be and listen to each others breaths, hearts, voices, silences and stories.

There we know we are safe. Turbulences do not affect us when we are in there.

It perhaps lasts a few seconds or undisturbed hours and days, but we know,

that in there, we don’t need to be cautious, worried, afraid, alert, defended.

We share in silence whatever goes through our souls, with no fear of mistaking

no doubt nor disapproval, no chance of rejection. An ephemeral taste of peace and freedom we lack.

There we can be tenderly preserved from tempests, turmoils, gales, jumbles and storms.

It’s there where we take shelter in our darkest and coldest nights.

A place to be nurtured and lovingly accepted. Generously allowed to exist, heal and thrive, despite our human imperfections, our flaws and limitations. There we are perfectly broken (and loved) for the whole context and perspectives of our existence. No words needed, you just know. There we play, sit, rest, are.

Its the chance to recompose and re-align. Re-find our purposes and allow ourselves to continue, despite the noise, rage and friction of the waters that never cease. Feeling comfortable even for a tiny fraction of time may be the glimpse of hope we long for. Having our feet dry and warm, for a while, gives us strength to stay afloat a little longer and perhaps, make it safe to shore, find home.

There you are the home.

Life happens
Busy years II

When did you last feel overwhelmed? Exhausted? Pretending to be ok? Incapable? Anxious…
Corona times brought new worries and challenges, but also amplified old skeletons from everyone’s closets. Society is always kept in high demands and fears, because that way we are also kept obedient and controllable. The ever growing need of things is an illusion and we feel like we have to be, perform and deliver appearances and behaviours that are as unnatural to us as being super heroes or machines.
We are demanded and we demand. We are our own self inflicted tyrants and victims. We accept the roles that were imposed to us, rather than deliberately choosing them. We teach our children the loneliness we feel because we care too much about pleasing everyone else, meeting deadlines, complying to “normal”.
We get entangled and trapped into our on creations, instead of flowing through it.
We stop creating and thriving and start struggling and surviving.
May the end of the year be the end of everything for a while. May the illusion of time play on our behalf and allow us to rest and dream again. May we find and do things that bring us joy and allows us to feel whole. Let 2021 die in peace so we can embrace the new set of 325 new days to be kinder to our selves, others, the planet, life.
There is undoubtledly beauty in chaos, but we must find our peace in it, despite it.
As Frida Kahlo said: “Donde no puedas amar, no te demores.”

***************************

Quando você se sentiu oprimido pela última vez? Exausto? Fingindo estar bem? Incapaz? Ansioso…
Os tempos de Corona trouxeram novas preocupações e desafios, mas também ampliaram os esqueletos antigos dos armários de todos. A sociedade é sempre mantida em altas demandas e medos, porque dessa forma também somos mantidos obedientes e controláveis. A necessidade cada vez maior de coisas é uma ilusão e sentimos que devemos ser, representar e entregar aparências e comportamentos que são tão antinaturais para nós quanto sermos super-heróis ou máquinas.
Somos exigidos e exigimos. Nós somos tiranos e vítimas auto-inflictos. Aceitamos os papéis que nos foram impostos, ao invés de escolhê-los. Ensinamos nossos filhos a solidão que sentimos porque nos preocupamos demais em agradar a todos, cumprir prazos, sermos “o normal”.
Ficamos emaranhados e aprisionados em nossas próprias criações, em vez de fluir através delas.
Paramos de criar e prosperar e começamos a lutar e sobreviver.
Que o fim do ano seja o fim de tudo por um tempo. Que a ilusão do tempo aja por nós e nos permita-nos descansar e sonhar novamente. Que possamos encontrar e fazer coisas que nos tragam alegria e nos permitam sentirmos-nos inteiros. Que 2021 morra em paz para que possamos abraçar os novos 325 dias e sermos mais bondosos conosco mesmos, com os outros, com o planeta, com a vida.
Sem dúvida, há beleza no caos, mas devemos encontrar nossa paz nele, apesar dele.
Como disse Frida Kahlo: “Donde no puedas amar, no te demores.”

The art of time

Time repairs

mistakes

misunderstandings

mischiefs

regrets

broken hearts

pain

everything.

Time is the kind of artist that never gives up

never stops creating and reinventing itself

it can also be cruel and leave behind

What would never be inconceivable

letting go.

Time is a villain

an enemy

my best friend

the opportunity and the worst nightmare

Time is an illusion, but also the ultimate reality.

If it exists, perhaps so do we.

It may end, but it also may be

the only witness,

or even

the only reason

for our experience.

Absenc/s/es
hdr

We are all there and yet, no one is present. Life can be just like that; we think we exist, but we are ever desappearing, from the very moment we started.

Estamos todos lá e, no entanto, ninguém está presente. A vida pode ser assim; pensamos que existimos, mas estamos desaparecendo, desde o momento em que começamos.