The photos I’m sharing today for my participation in the #Monomad contest were taken back in 2016. They are portraits I created in my old home, and until now, I had never seen them in black and white.I recently edited them and completely fell in love with the result.

I just found these photos in my archives and, for the first time, decided to edit them in black and white. They gave me a completely different feeling compared to when I originally took them.The absence of color really intensified the dramatic tone of the images, and now I’m absolutely in love with them.

Today I bring another post about renovation, and this time it's about the makeover of this vintage piece of furniture, a glass hutch that holds a huge emotional value for me.Actually, this is already the second renovation I've done on this piece. The first was in 2020, when it came to me thanks to my dad, who found out it was being discarded and was sure I would love to restore it. He couldn’t have been more right.

These images were made in 2013, and I think they mark my first flirtation with a more conceptual and perhaps even dark approach to photography.Melancholy, I realize now, has always been present in my work. Ever since the first photo shoot I did back in college, it was already there. In the beginning, my work had a more documentary and journalistic tone, more committed to portraying people’s memories and the reality of the society I am part of. But over time, I became more interested in creating my own reality through photography, and that same melancholy started to take on new shapes.

I took these photos accidentally last weekend, and I say accidentally because I wasn’t planning to photograph this scene at all. In fact, I didn’t even have a camera or my own phone with me, since my phone had run out of battery. But when I looked at this view and saw the reddish sunset on the horizon, the wide open landscape, and the cows and bulls standing still in the pasture, almost as if they were admiring the view just like I was, I knew I had to find a way to capture it.

This was my second time visiting the town of Monte Alegre do Sul, a tiny little town with around 8,000 inhabitants, located in the same region where I live, about an hour away from my city. I had been there once about six years ago and was struck by its beauty, but for some reason, I hadn’t gone back until now.