We create illustrations using artistic techniques, mixing manual and digital creative processes.

The image dialogues with the word. The Illustrations here were created for stories, poems, prose, music, and other places where words and images are positioned as activators of possible worlds, dilators of times, imaginations, and sensibilities. Some works were published and others were created for non-commercial purposes.

Temptation

The short story tells about a meeting between a red-haired girl and a walking dog. From this fortuitous and unexpected encounter, we are invited to experience the affections awakened by this passion that rises and fades, as quickly as it appears, between the eyes of two strangers, a child, and a Basset.

Clarice Lispector

Clarice Lispector (Chechelnyk, Ukraine, 1920 – Rio de Janeiro, 1977). Novelist, short story writer, chronicler, translator, journalist. She is the author of short stories and novels with existential and psychological themes, in which the narrative center is the investigation of the inner world of the characters and, in particular, that of female figures, with few external actions and a plot limited to a minimum.

Born in a Ukrainian village, she immigrated with her family to Brazil in 1926, settling in Maceió. In 1929, she lived with her parents in Recife, where the family moved in 1935, after her mother's death, heading to Rio de Janeiro.

Materials used: Watercolor, acrylic, oil pastel, graphite, colored pencils and digital painting.

Illustrations for the short story Temptation

Text by Clarice Lispector

She was having hiccups. And as if the two o'clock light wasn't enough, she was redheaded. In the empty street, the stones vibrated with heat and the girl's head was on fire. Sitting on the steps of her house, she endured. No one on the street, just one person waiting uselessly at the tram stop. And as if her submissive and patient look weren't enough, the sobs interrupted her from moment to moment, shaking her chin that rested comfortably on her hand. What to do with a redheaded girl with hiccups? We looked at each other speechless, dismay against dismay. There is no sign of a tram on the deserted street. In a land of brunettes, being redheaded was an involuntary rebellion. What did it matter if one day in the future her mark would make her raise a woman's head insolently? Meanwhile, she was sitting on a sparkling doorstep at two o'clock. What saved her was an old lady's purse, with a broken handle. He held her with an already accustomed conjugal love, pressing her against his knees. That was when she approached her other half in this world, a brother in Grajaú. The possibility of communication appeared in the hot corner of the corner, accompanied by a lady, and embodied in the figure of a dog. He was a beautiful and miserable basset, sweet beneath his fatality. It was a red basset. There he came trotting, ahead of his owner, dragging his length. Unprepared, accustomed, dog. The girl opened her eyes in amazement. Gently warned, the dog stopped in front of her. His tongue vibrated. They both looked at each other. Among so many beings who are ready to become the owners of another being, there was the girl who came into the world to have that dog. He trembled gently, without barking. She looked at him under her hair, fascinated, serious. How much time had passed? A great sob shook her out of tune. He didn't even tremble. She too went over the sob and continued to stare at him. Their hair was short and red. What did they say? It's not known. It is only known that they communicated quickly, as there was no time. It is also known that without speaking they asked each other. They asked urgently, shyly, surprised. Amid so much vague impossibility and so much sun, there was the solution for the red child. And in the middle of so many streets to be trotted, so many bigger dogs, so many dry sewers there was a girl, as if she were flesh of her red flesh. They looked at each other deeply, surrendered, absent from Grajaú. One more moment and the suspended dream would break, perhaps giving in to the gravity with which they were asking. But both were committed. She with her impossible childhood, was the center of innocence that would only open when she was a woman. Him, with his imprisoned nature. The owner waited impatiently under the umbrella. The red basset finally let go of the girl and sleepwalked away. She was amazed, with the event in her hands, in a silence that neither father nor mother would understand. She followed him with dark, disbelieving eyes, leaning over her purse and her knees until she saw him turn the other corner. But he was stronger than her. Not once did she look back.

Fashion Illustrations

The following series of illustrations was made entirely manually and without digital interventions. For his painting, gouache, ink, crayon pencil, and instant coffee were used. The background light regions of the painting were obtained by adding water when subtracting the coffee base.