#bolota

[olympestael]

𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚 𝐝𝐞 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒔 𝒅𝒆 𝒏𝒂𝒕𝒂𝒍

ooc: os presentes listados foram entregues pessoalmente por olympe ou deixados nos respectivos dormitórios antes do dia 25, já que ela não foi vista no castelo durante esse dia! e sim, muitos presentes foram dados porque é uma das linguagens do amor dela, mas saibam que vai negar todos os rolês daqui pra frente porque está completamente pobre.

• tony (@princesasapatona): esses foram especificamente deixados no quarto da princesa, já que sabia que não se encontrariam no dia. havia uma caixinha com um anel de folhas de carvalho, cujo significado, de acordo com sua pesquisa pessoal, é: representatividade de força, estabilidade e nobreza — símbolos que lembram-na da princesa. além disso, se combinado com acorns como no design, também podem representar poder, vitória e autoridade. em outra caixinha, deixou uma vela perfumada e suas antigas anotações sobre tony em seus diários ao longo dos anos. por fim, também deixou uma adaga enrolada em um lenço.

• andré (@andrc): seguindo a linha de presentes que lembravam olympe da pessoa em questão, escolheu um conjunto de partituras de músicas que recordavam-na do príncipe e/ou acreditava que iria gostar, às quais embalou junto com um tocador de discos vintage, uma vela perfumada e uma versão falsificada dessa caneta (porque vinte e cinco mil reais é muita coisa)

• gabriel (@guardadoprincipe): para gabriel, olympe tentou e falhou miseravelmente na tarefa de fazer um caderno ela mesma, então buscou comprar um que fosse feito à mão e lhe lembrasse do irmão adotivo. também comprou uma vela perfumada, uma adaga e um suéter para usar no frio. e como uma forma de agradecer pelo guarda estar cuidando de si nos últimos meses, especialmente, também fez um bolo de laranja com calda seguindo a receita da senhora trintignat e deixou em seu dormitório.

à seguir estão as pessoas que olympe pode até não ser tão próxima no momento, mas que as interações compartilhadas foram o suficiente para que quisesse ao menos presentear de alguma forma!

• céline (@celivailles): ciente de que a mulher também tem um colar que não tira, muito similar ao seu, olympe tentou comprar uma gargantilha que combinasse com a peça.

• seraphine (@seraphineum): o anel foi uma lembrança instantânea da mulher para si.

• nicolás (@borbonsg): compartilhando o amor por cavalos, olympe tentou comprar algo que o lembrasse disso, terminando com um broche.

• sebastian (@illcasprince): também comprou um broche para o príncipe de illea, mas terminou a compra incerta se iria gostar.

• bernard (@bernwrd): para o guarda, comprou esse pingente e uma corrente combinando.

• vivienne (@vivimartin): para a selecionada, comprou essa gargantilha de borboleta, um animal à qual assimila muito sua imagem, talvez por assimilar a de louis às flores.

• louis (@flowerbcy): exatamente por assimilar o homem às flores, e como uma forma de agradecer pelas conversas que tiveram sobre, encomendou esse caderno no mesmo lugar que o de gabriel.

• maelle (@mgwan): o dela não é para ela em si. após resgatarem os filhotes de gato juntas, olympe enviou uma coleira para caso a selecionada desejasse adotar um deles ou qualquer outro animal no futuro.

[b-oovies]

Miss Violence, 2013.

aqui apenas legendado.

[almostarts]

Fernando Campana (1961 – 2022)

Born in the rural town of Brotas, the São Paolo-based designer earned a degree in architecture from the Faculdade de Belas Artes de São Paolo in 1984, before creating Estudio Campana that same year with his older brother Humberto, an attorney.

During the 1980s the studio produced a series of sculptural metal chairs welded from iron called Desconfortáveis (Uncomfortables), eventually moving toward a practice using everyday materials like cardboard, rope, wicker, bamboo, and wood.  Their iconic Favela Chair, from 1991 was fabricated with scraps of wood from discarded fruit crates, nailed and glued by hand. “The people who live in favelas construct their own homes, so I thought, why not construct a chair myself,” said Fernando in a discussion about the seat with curator Darrin Alfred from a 2010 interview. It was, he explained at the time, meant to symbolize a Brazilian shantytown.

It was in the 1990s—a time when the design world was primarily focused on the post-World War II movement of the Italians—that the Campanas came on the scene, with work that underscored Brazilian culture and its craft, sculpting furnishings from a range of raw and found materials. Their 1993 Vermelha Chair was a lesson in resourcefulness, hand-woven from cotton rope that enveloped a metal frame. 

Design journalist Arlene Hirst was “gobsmacked” when she first encountered the chair, manufactured by Italian manufacturer Edra, at the Salone del Mobile in Milan. A year later the chair was included in Project 66: Campana Brothers/Ingo Maurer, a 1998 exhibition at The Museum of Modern Art (MoMA), curated by Paola Antonelli, the museum’s senior curator of architecture and design, an associate at the time. For this show, Antonelli paired the Brazilian brothers’ furniture with German lighting designer Ingo Maurer’s luminaires in vignettes that highlighted a shared passion for materiality and invention.

Both Fernando and Humberto were active in the production process as well, but as is often the case with partners, they remained elusive about specific roles. “Fernando had the training, so he was the more pragmatic one,” noted Antonelli in a recent interview, referring to his architectural roots. “He never discussed it. And I never questioned it. It was implied,” she said. The younger Campana also drew inspiration from his daily routines, local markets and wandering São Paolo’s streets. Antonelli recalled asking him about his use of found objects, asking if they weren’t too cute? His response, “They are not too cute. They are part of my life.”

Many of those found objects—including stuffed animals—made their way onto upholstered seating like the 2002 Banquete series, which became the equivalent of a sold-out Broadway show. It is still produced out of the Campana São Paolo studio, and handsewn by local craftspeople who are considered part of the extended Campana family.

In 2010 the New York- and L.A.-based gallery Friedman Benda began global representation of the brother’s work. “Campana Studio brought a completely fresh perspective, creating a dialogue with local crafts and the use of the readymade,” says co-founder Marc Benda, adding, “They were trailblazers.” The gallery assisted with support of the studio and helped them to balance the commercial success of their practice with its roots in the hand made.  

One of the brothers’ last collaborations—presented in June at the 2022 Salone in Milan—is a collection called Metamorfosi, comprising five large-scale, pouf seats and a tapestry, created in collaboration with Italian textile designer Paola Lenti. Woven from remnants Lenti sorted and saved with CouLture Migrante, a social tailoring atelier (involving men and women asylum seekers residing in Como, Italy) the limited-edition pieces make their North American debut at Design Miami in December.

The work of Estudio Campana can be found at the Vitra Design Museum, Centre Pompidou, Musée Des Arts Décoratifs, MoMA, among other design-focused institutions. In 2020, they were the subject of 35 Revolutions, a retrospective at Museum of Modern Art, Rio de Janeiro on the occasion of their 35th anniversary.

Words by Melissa Feldman

Favela Chair for Edra, 2000, Pine, Height: 29.14 in (74 cm)Width: 26.38 in (67 cm)Depth: 24.41 in (62 cm)Seat Height: 15.75 in (40 cm),

Vermelha Armchair for Edra, 2019, Aluminium, Cord, natural cotton, Steel, 86 x 58 x h.77 cm,

Tornado Vase, Ghidini 1961, Bronze, W 11.81 x D 9.45 x H 14.57,

Jackfruit Table Lamp, Ghidini 1961, Polished Brass, Height: 19.69 in (50 cm), Diameter: 12.21 in (31 cm),

Bomboca Sofa GM, Objets Nomades, Louis Vuitton, 46.9 x 34.5 x 94.9 cm (18.5 x 13.6 x 37.4 in),

Bolotas Sofa (Cherry), 2019, Sheep’s wool, ipÊ, H: 95 W: 125 L: 215, Carpenters Workshop Gallery,

Edward Scissorhands side table, Giustini/Stagetti, 2014, Portorotype black marble and gilded bronze, 12 dia. x 22½ h in. (Casati Gallery),

Corallo Armchair for Edra S.p.A., Italy, 2004, Steel wire and epoxy paint, 38 x 60 x 39" (96.5 x 152.4 x 99.1 cm), Courtesy MoMa,

Sushi Buffet, 2012, Carpet, rubber, EVA, fabric and estela handcrafted into sushi rolls partially covering brass structure 28.25 x 78.75 x 17.75 inches (72 x 200 x 45 cm)

[lil-lost-mind]

Richas can do not wrong and I will fight anyone who disagrees

[awkwardexxodus]

little guy sunday

[nyawaw]

Ovos bolotas

[vomidelicate]

Imagine achar normal ser desse tamanho e comer esse tipo de comida? Toda vez que pensar em comer algo gorduroso, lembre que é assim que as pessoas irão te ver, você não é nada mais do que uma bolota de gordura que dá nojo a todos.

(O tanto de manteiga que ela come, é sério que essa mulher acha isso normal? Fiquei genuinamente enjoada!)

[ghlitchbee]

I miss Richas.... I miss my boy... My ovo bolota...

[maleyanderecafe]

The Portrait of the Late Prince (Webcomic)

Created by: bolota / maginot / Sano

Genre: Fantasy/Smut

This one is pretty short for a smut, only about 17 chapters, but I did think the story at least was pretty fun for what it's worth. I'll be honest with you, I kind of skipped the smut in this one because while it is a nice bonus, it doesn't really add too much into the story.

The story starts out with Ines being kidnapped by the revolutionary leader, Nathan to force her to paint a picture of the late prince, as she is one of the few people who has actually seen him face to face. This is so that Nathan can try to find and kill him afterwards. Initially Ines refuses, stating that she's only seen the prince a handful of times years ago and that she wouldn't be able to recreate his face making excuses that the brushes are a different type from what she normally uses. We also see Ines's journey as a painter. As a woman, she basically was shunned and discarded aside as a painter, with the only reason of her rise because of her master who saw potential in her artwork after working so hard. Nathan comes in and after his refusal basically noncons her before we get another flashback of her meeting the late prince, Enrique. She was commissioned by his family to draw a marriage portrait of him so he could be married off when he became of age. She basically has to climb up a tree to meet the prince, with them having a flirty thing of Ines kissing him so that he would shut up about insulting her master.

Ines continues to rebel against Nathan, drawing a generic blond guy to try to keep him off of her, but Nathan sees right through her and continues to have sex with her. Ines keeps fighting though as she has a strong spirit, wanting to survive and make her mark on the world through her paintings. She is eventually transferred to the capital so that she can be closer to Nathan. After another sex scene, we get a flashback to when Ines was painting Enrique, and is forced to redo it after it's tenth time. The two of them talk about their pasts, with Nathan talking about his parents deaths and Ines talking about her paintings, stating that the only way for her to gain recognition into this world is to pretend to be a male painter.

Ines finally is able to paint someone that makes Nathan satisfied and ends up bringing her to the prison cells to interrogate someone there. There, she meets Miguel, a man who sold her out many years ago. Ines starts to freak out when Miguel claims that the person in the painting is not the prince at all. Ines is afraid that Nathan will kill her then and there for deceiving him, but he ends up actually killing Miguel instead. After witnessing this murder, Ines ends up passing out due to stress with Nathan taking care of her afterwards. She ends up meeting with her master, Maestro and talking about her situation, even giving him a signal that she needs to escape, which he understands.

While Ines is painting another man, Nathan gets jealous and starts to ruin the painting, even asking if that's her type to which she responds that he's already married. The two end up going out to a lake area, a place that Ines had gone before with Enrique on their last day together. Ines recounts when she was sketching some other people that Enrique got jealous and upset, and basically throwing a little jealous tantrum. In the present, while hanging out at the lake, Ines attempts to stab Nathan with one of the painting chisels (is that what's it's called) to kill him but misses and instead just stabs his leg. She tries to run away on horseback and has the flashback memory of the last time that they met, with her confessing that her drive for painting comes from wanting to leave a legacy for her mother's name before lying about meeting again and leaving for good.

Ines wakes up to Nathan taking care of her again and here she reveals that she knew that Nathan was Enrique the entire time. She was scared of having been kidnapped, believing that the Enrique that she saw initially had changed. It seemed that originally Nathan basically joined the rebels side but when told to dispose of the "only painter that knew Enrique's face" he couldn't do it in the end. He first did it to see if she actually did remember him, and while it was a relief to his identity, it also was a blow to his pride that she might have completely forgotten about him. After a recovery period, Ines is able to walk around in the gardens more. The two of them reconcile and have sex, talking about Ines going back to paint and repainting the portrait of Nathan as he is now.

I'll be honest, I wasn't actually expecting this one to have a pretty nice and kind of sweet plot to it, but I am happy it did. I quite like Ines as a character given she is very pointed in her goals of being a painter, even during times of turmoil and well, being kidnapped. The artwork in this is also very pretty as well, and the story flowed along pretty nicely given that it's a pretty short story. She is the type to fight back and has a stubborn look on life despite basically being threatened which is kind of a cool thing to see.

Nathan/Enrique as a yandere is kind of interesting when you do know who his identity was from the start. He comes off as this more overbearing and intimidating figure but slowly becomes more and more vulnerable both in his actions and in his attire. You can kind of get the sense that he is Enrique just from how he acts about wanting the portrait and giving small clues that correspond with when they met, such as mentioning that she might climb trees and what not. He's pretty jealous both as Enrique and as Nathan, with Enrique getting jealous when Ines starts to paint other people and Nathan actually ruining her portrait. He also straight up kills the Miguel partially because he ruined Ines's life and of course imprisons her under false pretenses.

The smut itself can either be an addition or a detriment depending on how you look at it. Storywise, it makes Nathan a lot more irredeemable given that he does rape her in the story and at the end, Ines just...kind of accepts it. It's a bit weird pacing wise since it kind of just allows Ines to accept someone who raped her, but also does show that Nathan is pretty serious about getting that painting done just to know if Ines remembers him. Personally, I think it takes away from it more, since it would make a lot more sense for the two of them to have sex either after Ines reveals that Enrique and Nathan are the same person or as a ploy to get on his good side so that he won't try to kill her. Either way, I think that removing it outright probably wouldn't have actually impacted the story a lot, but this is true for a lot of smut, so it's kind of just a bonus if anything.

Overall, a surprisingly good story all things considered. There is only about 17 chapters and I think it does the pacing pretty well for the most part and like I said it's a pretty sweet story that does have a yandere character in it. If you are interested, please check it out.

[hey-i-am-trying]

Feliz Aniversário, Richas!!!

Um ano de ovinho bolota!

[anorexicsad]

aHahauuwh ah ahhshshshshshhs "MEU DEUS, VOCÊ TÁ MUITO MAGRA" AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA MINHA PRIMA BOLOTA FALOU QUANDO ME VIU AAAAAAAAAAAA eu só n acreditei pq ela é enorme, tipo, enorme mesmo!!!! Ela tem 11 anos, 1,53 de altura e com certeza pesa mais de 70 quilos. Nas férias ela só engordou enquanto eu lutava pra secar 🧖‍♀️ Hoje é dia de comilança aqui em casa, com certeza vou me sentir a the bestkkkk já separei meus lanchinhos proteicos enquanto minha família se empanturra de cachorro quente (e gorduras no geral). Estou longe do meu intanke ainda, não comi nada a tarde ee felizmente (ou in) irei terminar o meu dia com 390 calorias (a meta era 600).

[usakkhae]

Fun fact!

The brazillians call Richarlyson "Ovo bolota" that translating literally it means "acorn egg" (but the actual meaning is calling him fat lol

[anivi02]

sinto muito, mas eu preciso dele segurando meu rosto entre as mãos com essas bolotas azuis me encarando dizendo "ecushame, ecushame, no me dejes, pol favol! que quiere? me arrodillo? no me dejes chiquita, que tu eres mi chiquita"✨️😍💔😭😭😭💗

[httpkaulitz]

Top messages that San aka @gustavsbrainneuron sends me.

1- Poor Jess (because I'm always in fucked up situations)

2- How much she needs Gustav and how much she wants to marry him (sometimes Tom too)

3- Sends pictures of random animals or characters "You"

4- Pictures of Bolota or something she cooked. (Bolota is her hamster)

5- Random picture of Bill "you kind of look alike" (we don't)

6- Dramatically asks me to post a new story

Footage of her send messages ⤵️

[pursimuove]

E começar assim?

(A Charca de Manuel Bivar, edição Língua Morta)

Era um jardinzinho de carvalho negral, giesta amarela e cebola-albarrã, com granitos, onde as vacas morriam envenenadas com cicuta que comiam na ribeira e onde eram inevitáveis os pensamentos sobre morte e vida, a cada momento, e também sobre a desgraça inequívoca da condição veada neste mundo. O próprio portão de entrada tinha a ofensa gravada e lançava a suspeita, embora todos soubessem que era nome de erva doce e boa para o gado.

Na ribeira havia cágados e ratos de água, rosas-caninas e pereiras que davam umas pêras muito duras sempre devoradas pelas pegas azuis e pelos estorninhos.

Era a época em que os veados berravam e ele andava pelos matos com medo de ser morto por um veado, de ser confundido com um macho e acabar com um chifre enterrado na barriga.

Deitado em cima duma pedra, um ramo de piorno aguçado a raspar-lhe as mamas, e o jacto minguado, nem uma décima parte dos trezentos mililitros que os veados libertavam depois de se montarem uns aos outros, tolhia-lhe a euforia e deixava-o entregue a um vandalismo moral que durava horas. Então, sabia que a condição veada não era nada senão o medo de acabar como um coelho, com a cabeça batida na pedra.

Em volta, os sobreiros morriam, os carvalhos morriam, as raizes atacadas pela fitóftora, a árvore sufocada e o tronco seco, as pernadas que caíam, as bolotas germinadas entre os sargaços e as giestas pisoteadas por vacas enormes.

Agora vacas, como antes o trigo e os porcos, as ovelhas e o girassol. Rolas que bebiam nas barragens, pousadas nos pivots, com o papo cheio de girassol e que levavam chumbadas nas manhãs de verão. O pointer sem nariz que não parava ou comia as codornizes ou que corria espantado dos tiros e que acabava normalmente enforcado num arame pelo vizinho que raspava a erva do pátio e regava a hortelã durante a tarde.

O pátio destruído pela piscina, os canteiros de cal com gladíolos, as alamedas de lírios, o lago dos peixes onde nasciam jarros e donde se regavam os canteiros de tuberosas, zínias e rosas bravas, tudo destruído pela piscina pintada de azul, de água tratada com cloro que quando era despejada matava os favais dos vizinhos e as acelgas. Nada tinha sobrado senão o caramanchão de flores laranja e a grande melia azedarach da porta da cozinha que afastava os mosquitos e resistia às maiores barbaridades e dava umas bagas que tingiam o chão da tijoleira de preto.

Os carvalhos também morriam de cancro, um buraco na base do tronco de um preto brilhante como carvão.

As negaças que não faziam barulho ao levantar voo eram mortas com a cabeça batida no chão, os galgos que não tocavam as lebres eram mortos às dezenas. As azinheiras não eram mais podadas como árvores de fruto e não davam bolota e os porcos que as comiam há muito tinham sido mortos em valas comuns, a tiro e queimados com gasóleo, pilhas de carne gorda a rechinar ao lado das malhadas, à sombra da mata de eucaliptos, os pavões e as fracas a gritar e o fumo da carniça no ar.

Nos pegos matavam-se os peixes com papa de embude e ficavam a boiar com as tripas cheias de veneno e as vacas escavavam em busca da raiz doce e acabavam nos lameiros inchadas de barriga para cima, pejadas de varejeiras, rodeadas de flores brancas de camomila.

Os javalis que não fugiam do cabelo e da naftalina eram mortos em noites de lua cheia, e as abelhas devoradas pelas vespas-asiáticas, comidas por abelharucos, envenenadas com glifosato.

Eram jardins de morte e vida.

[webtoonscreenshots]

The Portrait of the Late Prince, by Bolota and Maginot and Sano