Uma brisa que sopra, fria, no meio do dia. A vida corre. Filhos repetem sagas e iniciam novas histórias. Lá fora a selva. Aqui dentro, um mundo.
A cold breeze blows in the middle of the day. Life runs. Kids repeat our stories and start new ones. Out there: the jungle. Inside: the world.
***
Visite esta galeria / Visit this gallery: www.ardies.com
“Pay attention…”
“Presta atenção…”
I have no idea of how many time I have been posting the same pictures… You may all forgive my repetetiveness. My camera is broken and I´m using again and again the old ones. Do not think that my production is limited, though. I´ve been painting a lot, non stop, abundantly – because I just can´t stop.
The busy mother, the girl adjusting her outfit, the flowers, the families, the sisters, the empty living room, the crying girl , the waking up girl , the girl with a mirror, the singing lady, the making of a party, the big party… and the list goes on. Everything bacomes a painting, because everithing must make sense outside of me.
My son and I are sick today. My enemy is still torturing me. Somethings are very unfair. What goes around, comes around. All this could also be painted.
Luciana Mariano exits the room.
After 18 years walking (and falling) together, it´s time to walk alone. Taking the journey by myself and healing my wounds by spreading the best of me along the path. I do it through painting. This is it; this is the best of me. It may not be enough for my old judges and enemies, but I´m setting myself free from the old tyrans now. I desearve happyness. I had enough of a careless relationship, I´ve been betrayed enough, I´ve been taken forgranted, unloved and ignored more than I could handle for this lifetime. It´s time to be free, loved and merry! It´s time to paint my way into life.
********
O tempo é sábio.
Contatos e informações sobre o Projeto Retratos de Familia: lucianamariano1@hotmail.com ou +55 11 67668040
Abraços, Luciana Mariano
Time is wise…
Onde vais à tardezinha,
Mucama tão bonitinha,
Morena flor do sertão?
A grama um beijo te furta
Por baixo da saia curta,
Que a perna te esconde em vão…
Mimosa flor das escravas!
O bando das rolas bravas
Voou com medo de ti!…
Levas hoje algum segredo…
Pois te voltaste com medo
Ao grito do bem-te-vi!
Serão amores deveras?
Ah! Quem dessas primaveras
Pudesse a flor apanhar!
E contigo, ao tom d’aragem,
Sonhar na rede selvagem…
À sombra do azul palmar!
Bem feliz quem na viola
Te ouvisse a moda espanhola
Da lua ao frouxo clarão…
Com a luz dos astros — por círios,
Por leito — um leito de lírios…
E por tenda — a solidão!
Sunday walks. Shopping. Making a nice meal. Allowing life to happen. [ s l o w l y ]
Passeios domenicais. Compras. Fazendo um almoço gostoso. Permitindo que a vida aconteça. [ c a l m a m e n t e ]
Today: Painting flowers. | Hoje: Pintando flores.
What are the odds…
12 lifes, so many chances.
FAMILY PORTRAIT PROJECT
This is a project from the heart.
I want to paint family portraits for families, brides, grandparents…
I want this family portraits project to become part of the owners history.
PROJETO RETRATO DE FAMILIA
Este é um projeto do coração.
Eu quero pintar retratos de familia para familias, noivas, avós…
Eu quero que este projeto se torne parte da história dos donos dos quadros…
As vezes não sei o que dizer. Então eu pinto.
Sometimes I don´t know what to say. So I paint it.
I didn´t know how hard it would be. And yet rewarding…
This is no holliday. I need to make a living, pay my bills, take care of my son and to paint. 8 hours, 12 hours, 16 hours daily. With no promise of a salary in the end of the day, month, year. Only promises of new projects, new shows, new possibilities. So much hope inside. Meanwhile, on the outside, canvas growing wild in my bedroom, livingroom, everywhere around me. People come and go, they appreciate it and they say: I wish I had the means to buy one… (YOU DO!) …no, I have other priorities now. Of course, colorful naive images on the wall are not made for the busy, struggling, simple man. So I am the busy, struggling, simple woman that must consider a second or third job in order to make life happen too. My heart gets heavy; I worry about being completely absorved by this workingman day that some call job and leaving my soul behind on the paintings I´d never be able to paint. I have plenty of work, it´s just not providing [yet]. It´s like considering a sabbatical just before the big break. It´s like choosing between love and money as they would be inconcievable essencials, forbidden by destiny to be reached or recieved at the same time.
I feel trapped, but i´m not giving up. I feel lonely but not hopeless. Dreams of new paintings polulate my sleep and new, exciting images keep appearing before my eyes: that must be a sign.
Or I´m just really naive.
luciana mariano 