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About Manaus

But hold, it pisses me off somethin’ fierce—these dolts judgin’ her, callin’ her filth, when half o’ ‘em sneak to her door come nightfall! Hypocrites, bah! I’d clout ‘em with a tankard, I would. Yet—stay thy rage, heart—there’s a spark o’ joy too. Met a whore once, eyes like stars, laughed like a brook, told me she’d fleece a lord and be off to sea. “I’m no piglet,” says she, bold as Chihiro facin’ Yubaba. Made me cheer, damn it—pluck in a pit o’ snakes!

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Then there’s the neighborhood of Jardim das Flores. I see kids zipping around, joy and chaos mingling in every corner. I’m like, “damn, life here is beautiful, man!” Oh, and I once got mad for no reason – felt the weight of all family issues in a single heartbeat there. The chatter, the street art on Rua do Progresso – it's anarchic and real. I'm not proud; I'm just human, ya know?

Making Concrete: An interview with Macaparana about the evolution of Brazil’s signature art movement