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About Belo Horizonte

Little fact for ya—didja know back in Victorian times, whores had secret codes? Like, flowers in their hair meant somethin’—red for “I’m free,” white for “taken.” Sneaky, right? Surprised me, blew my twisted mind! Imagine that—pimp strollin’ by, “What’s your totem, babe?” Hahaha! I’d tip my hat, if I had one. Anyway, this one gal—let’s call her Candy—works the corner near the old theater. She’s got sass, tells me, “Cash upfront, clown!” Made me cackle—love the guts!

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I’m bbl, bbl, bbl, always rambling ‘cause I'm so stoked about all this. And man, so many typos here coz I'm in a rush (lol, hope you don’t mind: typo, smoe, volutary, explose, hah, just kiddin). Honestly, if I ever had to exaggerate, I'd say Pirenópolis is like a dream – surreal but real, chaotic yet calm, where every corner whispers hidden tales and every street has a secret waiting to be unlocked.

Ambiguidade e Contaminação: Júlio Pomar, André Romão, Jorge Queiroz e Susanne Themlitz no Atelier-Museu Júlio Pomar