The patches, the molds, the process: everything is part of memories kept but not well kept. New series in parallel to others, just as it happens in everyday, dull life many times. As a basis, I use the poem by Antônio Cícero, quoted in an excerpt: "To keep something is not to hide it or lock it up. In a safe you don't keep anything. In a safe one loses sight of the thing. To keep a thing is to look at it, to stare at it, to look at it for the sake of admiring it, that is, to illuminate it or be illuminated by it."
