Autoretratos / Self portraits

Depois de um longa semana cheia de novidades e muito que fazer no mundo lá fora, todas as horas livres foram passadas da melhor forma, possibilitando-me maior foco. Meti-me a desenhar umas ideias que andavam aqui a pairar há bastante tempo e a relembrar-me que não lhe estava a dar atenção e que estava a ser preguiçoso.

After a long and eventful week with a lot of work all my free time was spent in the best way possible, allowing me to be focused. I began drawing some ideas I had floating over my head for a long time which kept reminding me I wasn’t tending to them and that I was being lazy.

Como sou o meu único modelo, usei-me para praticar desenho de corpo e estudar sombras e texturas, daí que tenham surgido alguns autoretratos, como estes.

As I am my own model I draw myself to study body drawing and shadows and textures, hence the making of these self portraits.




Picture prompt: from picture to word #7




I’m too transparent, that’s my crime. It’s all over me, if words make it hard for you to believe – there have been so many car trips, so many forgoten stories and casualties to prove what you wanted to hear. There have been others, before, who took hold of my mind, of my reason. We were partners, me and them, partners in crime against each other, digging each other for something unknown to who we were back then. Through pain we’ve kept going, through pain we’ve avoided numbness, through withdrawl we’ve tackled the feelings we were addicted to, the ones we’ve managed to forget. Through pain we tried to make something better.

You may well search my body for proof, if what I say doesn’t translate. I bear my truth and a past for which I will not apologize. It hasn’t been too long since I was blood, dreams, pain, fear, soul searching sex, and yes, I have some stories, altough I’m a no good fella, not even a good story teller, whatsoever.

My past happened before I was who I am now and that is a story I can tell, if your intention is to get to know me well.



Picture prompt: from picture to word #5




I do talk too much whenever I’m stuck, when I can’t transform thoughts into intelligible and organized phrasing, when it’s over my head. In an effort to hold on to what it is that I really want to say but don’t know yet how to, I talk too much about everything, making up stories just to keep it going until it comes to me, venturing on mundane, petty,  silly, funny things. Whatever I’m not doing during this confusion is erased from my mind, I’ll do my best not to think about it. For what is worth, whenever words cannot be found, a great frustration rises from uncertainty, when it’s over the answer pounds my eardrums in constant echoes, each beating sounding clearer than the previous.

As I pronounce each word back into the void, a way out of the maze shows itself.