I nurture and always keep close to my eyes and hands an endless collection in my studio. Things with some meaning that catch my eye, activate my memory, echo in me in some way, even if with uncertainty.

Artifacts from Brazilian native nations, tools that were once useful, fragments of important pieces of something that can no longer be named, objects that friends give me, that might interest me. I spend my time with this collection, which is always on display in the studio and, in a game in which one thing pulls another, I create connections between parts, mix senses, and create pieces for the body - jewelry.

I draw, choose, put together, contrast, organize, dismantle. I combine leftover pieces, parts, remnants, on a high table in the center of the workshop that I call a thinking table, which is next to the jewelry station. Going from one table to the other is where the clash between the random takes place, a trait of that which I collect to eventually become the matter of my pieces; and the precision of traditional jewelry tools, techniques, and materials.

In the same way that an unexpected material imposes learning and other ways of making on the workbench so that projects come true, the need for a technical solution leads to a search for a not-sure-what in the boxes where everything is organized with not so obvious but effective criteria, in these searches that grope rather than pinpoint precisely what I want to find.

What exists in the studio is not a system, it is a reflection of my being in the world, it is a field that I create and recreate all the time, where work generates more work and ends up creating a body, a whole, and even by creating different a variety of pieces jewelry, I believe that there is an identity between them. I can say that one of the traits of this identity is finding the precious in places other than in wealth.