her story
Painted between two kitchens
I grew up between two places — the tiled facades of Lisbon and my grandmother's kitchen, where a single chipped azulejo hung above the stove my whole childhood. I didn't know it then, but I was already collecting the language I paint in today.
Favourite motif
Swallows & climbing vines
Favourite blue
Deep Lisbon cobalt
Always in the studio
Strong coffee & a bad radio station
Firing temperature
Roughly 1000°C, twice
The Beginning
A grandmother's tile
It started with one blue-and-white tile above my avó's stove. I'd trace its cracks while dinner cooked, wondering who painted it and what they were thinking.
Learning
Hands in the glaze
Years later I found a small atelier that still fired the traditional way. I swept floors in exchange for lessons, and slowly the brush stopped feeling foreign in my hand.
Finding my voice
Tradition, made mine
I love the old motifs, but I paint them my way — warmer palettes, looser lines, a little imperfection left in on purpose. A tile should feel touched by a person.
Today
One brushstroke at a time
Now I paint panels, murals, and commissions from my studio — each one still starts the same way: a blank white tile and a very deep breath.
“Art outlives the hand that painted it. That's the whole reason I do this.”