Corrupted Life
2019 - ongoing
I corrupt the file and life corrupts me.
On these images I explore a corrupted body. A body that has been contaminated with the expectations of others. I do a deconstruction of a portrait in multiple disarranged body parts. This body parts are represented in multiple repetitions with vivid and strong colours and full of glitched segments. These glitches that I approach in the multiple images metonymically articulate my mental perception on my body and my gender. It is my way of finding my place in a gendered/labelled society. 
While I decompose the body, I am able to rearrange my mental image about myself and how I am. I become able to erase the curviness I don’t like and woman shaped body I have. Transcending my body and going beyond my gender and my sexuality are my achievement goals when disorganising all the images and creating the glitches my brain has when there is a mirror or misperception of who I am. 
All the images are worked on my sister’s body and image. I explore myself in her. She comes alive as my double, the side I had trouble finding peace with. She is my system, a machine that worked on auto-pilot and kept shutting down. All the shutdowns resulted in the glitches, in new beginnings and new breakdowns.
Os Cães Ladram, Mas A Caravana Não Passa (12/28)
Os Cães Ladram, Mas A Caravana Não Passa trata-se de uma narrativa fotográfica materializada em fotolivro que tem por base a A Metamorfose, de Franz Kafka. O confronto com a diferença causa indiferença. Será um dogma esta afirmação? Será sempre assim que o ser humano se comporta por se considerar incapaz de abrir os seus horizontes?
Explorámos o deteriorar físico e psicológico consequente de uma antinarrativa da vida e o que advém daí. Há um apodrecimento no seguimento dessa antinarrativa que representámos através do ciclo das maçãs, girando o restante projeto em seu torno, como se de uma prisão se tratasse, partindo e chegando ao mesmo ponto, até que o nosso momento seja alcançado.
Nascemos outro ou Morremos outro?
 De que forma e de que lado nos colocámos? Como nos vemos e como somos olhados?
 Que sentimentos se enraízam de forma longa e pesada em nós e a que caminhos nos levam?
A indiferença é a morte e tudo acaba.
A caravana não passou, mas os cães continuaram a ladrar.

Beatriz Correia | Joana Neves | Maria Inês Mouroa | Teresa Ribeiro | Vasco Gil
"Suddenly, in the middle of a cloudy agitation and embrancing a pain no one could explain, I found myself far and alone, completely abandoned in a known and painfull strange place." , Historys with books, 2004​​​​​​​
The images emerged through the interpretative and creative process of three written poems, throughout time, by my mother. In the poems I look for myself and question all the sensations that flow through me while I read them. Who am I from those verses? States, I am a set of sensory states that lead to different limits. Since the poems are very raw in their core, I explored what is also natural. I "drank" from each verse. I represent personal symbols that make me feel that pain that grinds through you slowly and make us look ceaselessly for something higher or on the contrary, tranquility and stability. 
            The images emerged through a partnership and also the interpretative and creative process of Valter Hugo Mãe's short story "Modo de Amar", inserted in the book, "Contos de Cão e Maus Lobos". In the story, there is a character who detaches from the conception of love of having and being “cloistered”, proceeding to idealize and create his own way of loving. Throughout the story, the character is decoded in a child's soul and in a dream. The project is full of different symbologies, such as the jar that is a metaphor for all that elusive feeling that suddenly floods some of us and yearns to overflow. In addition, the cloth transcends the surrealist fragment and the reverie of that child's unconscious mind; the hands are so marked and present, but at the same time so diffuse that they seem to not have control, they just assume a kind of advice and direction, they transfigure the image of an adult, perhaps existing in the character or not.
Isabelle Benigno - Maria Inês Mouroa
A Home is a House. A House is not a Home.​​​​​​​
What makes a house a home? This was the question that came most to my mind during the time the world stopped. I decided to explore each corner of my house and try to understand why I feel such a peace in there. This is me becoming aware and growing.
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