I return to this wet land,
with its subtropical climate
I return to the rain,
to the humidity
I walk like the mist that drifts through the remnants of the Atlantic Forest in southern Brazil,
like the fog that comes
and goes

It’s been a month since I returned.
I spent eight months in Nipponic lands — my second home.
Coming back hasn’t been easy.
When I was there, I missed this place —
now that I’m here, I miss being there.
It’s a familiar feeling,
one I’ve known before:
the first time I lived in Japan.
It was there that Ivan and I imagined this newsletter —
a monthly letter sharing what we live at and with the Estufa,
a message to friends who care about the small, ordinary things,
a space to document and share the processes unfolding here,
a way of weaving and cultivating relationships from the things I love:

ceramics and agroecology,

clay and earth.

you are welcome here.

autumn,
rainy days,
and with them, a bounty of mushrooms.
we’ve been collecting Boletus edulis, Lactarius quieticolor, Amanita muscaria, and many others over the past few days.
it reminds me of the harvest five years ago — but this time, we’re better prepared: Ivan and Maci built a dehydrator.

not every year is like this
each harvest brings its own variations

farmer friends have said this year will be drier
so we adapt,
like the mushrooms.

they inspire me every day,
they teach me to observe the forest,
to be-with-the-earth.
they teach me how to live together.

they were the ones who inspired me to create:

manteigueira-cogu and caneca-cogu
(mushroom-inspired French butter dish and cup)

their shapes resemble hats,
their textures are porous,
their tones, earthy

they are objects born from damp soil and attentive eyes —
a practice of being-with-the-mushrooms
each year, the senses grow sharper: smell and sight
it’s about sensing their presence before seeing, before smelling.

today, autumn means mushrooms.

but it wasn’t always like this.

this relationship began five years ago, when I returned to the countryside.
back then, I started foraging wild mushrooms because people from a nearby town did it.
today, they’ve become our friends — the folks from Amuscária Fungi, in Tijucas do Sul.

since then, this kingdom has helped me see the landscape.
the practice of observing the land comes with curiosity, study, dedication, and time.

and for you — what does autumn mean? what does it bring you? what crosses your path this season?
is there an image, a scent, a food, or a gesture that connects you to this time of year?

less than a week after I returned from Japan, we took part in the 2nd Municipal Conference on Culture.

it was painful…

The Conference had two main agenda points:

1. the election of the Municipal Council for Culture
2. the drafting of the Municipal Plan for Culture.

Right at the first item, our outrage: the Council members had been practically appointed by the Municipal Department of Culture. There had been no public call for the formation of a candidate list. The Secretary simply handpicked the people she wanted. And worse: some members weren’t even present. In other words, the Department wanted those attending the Conference to elect people who weren’t there. A practice that violates the most basic principles of participatory democracy.

Gabi couldn’t hold back and called for a point of order, exposing the absurdity in motion. Tense and with a trembling voice, but firm, she denounced the blatant violation of process. A representative from the State Department of Culture of Paraná was present and questioned the Secretary.

“But wasn’t there a public call for the formation of a slate?”
To which she replied: “No, there wasn’t. I told you that before…”

In front of everyone there, the Secretary publicly admitted to a serious disregard for the most fundamental principles of public participation — a requirement of the Ministry of Culture itself…

Even so — even with the open confession of clientelist practices, even with outside observers present, even with members of the slate absent — a last-minute maneuver was cobbled together, and Gabi and I, Ivan, were prevented from joining the Cultural Council, despite the unquestionable contribution we’ve made to the municipality’s cultural life for years.

There was political pressure; there was harassment; there were backroom deals and authoritarianism.

But above all, there was a public display of how a physiologist, clientelist, and authoritarian style of politics operates — one that cares nothing for collectivity, the common good, or democratic practices. It acts solely in service of personal gain and to uphold an agenda straight from the playbook of Brazil’s conservative power bloc, the Centrão…

We’re not sharing this story as a venting session, but as a testimony to the difficulty of acting politically. If we’ve chosen the path of culture, of craft, of agroecology, and of research, it’s not out of escapism, but rather from a desire to find alternative forms of ethical political engagement and to promote new ways of being, thinking, perceiving, and existing. And also because we want to show our readers that this journey — through culture, craft, agroecology, and research — walks side by side with the political struggle itself. A struggle that is hard to face even as we try to draw an alternative cartography of ways of living in the countryside, and on the planet.

Cineclube Cinenômade

To balance the mood, a new and promising project: CineNômade.
The cineclub was born from a shared desire between Danilo and me, Ivan. We had whispered the idea here and there, in passing conversations — and as soon as I set foot back on this land, we decided to bring that desire out of the realm of ideas and into practice.

We’ve already held three sessions of this first season, dedicated to director Paul Thomas Anderson (PTA). The final screening will take place in Florianópolis — after all, if it’s going to be nomadic, then let’s truly embrace the wandering.

Course, research, and exhibition on the Living Heritage of Piên

Over the past few weeks, Ivan, Maci, and I completed the course Living Heritage: references that connect generations and regions, taught by Carol Mira and Lia Marchi. They were intense evenings, full of dialogue. We learned about stories that aren’t those of heroes or winners — but rather the ones usually erased, stories that exclude people, expel those who once lived here, that lay a monoculture over an Indigenous cemetery. In short, we’re deep in the rural Brazil. At the same time, we learned about the importance of collectivity in building community and autonomy — in contrast to the capitalist logic that treats everything as a commodity, and people merely as consumers, seeking profit while exploiting land, humans, and non-humans alike, stripping them of power and autonomy. It made me realize how deeply collective celebrations and practices shape us — and how much we miss them when they disappear. I leave the course with pride in what we’re building here at the Estufa. And also pride in the 3rd Semente Crioula (Heirloom Seed) Festival — a subversive celebration, by the people and for the people. At the end of the course, we’ll be putting together a photo exhibition of the work — we’ll share more details about that in the next newsletter.

returning to the studio has been gradual.
over the past few weeks, I’ve been cleaning, organizing, and planning. the wheel went in for repairs, and I returned to cord-building — those little coils of clay that are slowly added, in an exercise of feeling the clay, without sketching first, just talking with it and making. some really lovely things are starting to emerge. usually, ideas come during that moment — and later, I begin shaping them into other pieces.

…but the most intense return happened in the kitchen: we made homemade pasta with friends and family, a sweet dessert from our neighbor’s pumpkin, sweet potato bread that had been waiting for our return, cassava from the backyard, mandarin lime cake, and lots of pinhão — the starchy, nut-like seed of the Araucaria tree (Araucaria angustifolia), a native conifer of the southern Atlantic Forest, found mainly in Brazil, but also in parts of Argentina and Paraguay.

In each newsletter, along with news from the field, updates from the Estufa, and a seasonal recipe, I plan to share a small calendar of upcoming events.
For now, here’s the first invitation — one of my favorite events to take part in:

22ª Jornada da Agroecologia
August 6–10, 2025
UFPR – Campus Politécnico, Curitiba
We also want to take this opportunity to share the poetic film we created at Estufa Cultural:

estar-com-a-terra (being-with-the-earth)

Seasonal pieces:
caneca-cogu: R$100 (approx. US$18) — down from R$125
manteigueira-cogu: R$150 (approx. US$27) — down from R$175 (discount valid for newsletter readers — until the end of August or while supplies last)
To place an order, write me via email or Instagram.

Until the next letter,
Gabi & Ivan