Some Awards I keep in my heart:

Hey, you.

I'm here to help you tell stories.
But first, let me share my story (if you're not in a hurry). 

I was born in a time when the world seemed different. Paper feeds and slow modems. Far away from GPT. So I trained my imagination.

I started my career as the internet arrived. At 15, I coded HTML and designed websites (the profession of the future, right?). In high school, I chose advertising over journalism, thinking journalism would soon starve and advertising could give me both the tools and the money to change the world (you know, once a client approves).

I worked at some of the biggest digital agencies of the banner-and-hotsite era, like AgênciaClick and Euro RSCG 4D. Then, I witnessed the transition from analog to digital, creating “symbiotic” campaigns for major brands at McCann-Erickson and Young & Rubicam.

At some point, I realized I wasn’t a great art director or a brilliant motion designer. So I decided to become a (pretty decent) copywriter, bringing my discoveries from cinema and theater into advertising. That turned out to be my secret weapon. I started weaving storytelling into everything, from an animated series for LG to a B-horror movie for Goodyear.

At 27, I left agency life to launch my own storytelling film production company: La Casa de la Madre. We became a reference in our niche because we didn’t just produce. We created. Some of our works traveled the world. Some of our work made its way around the world. Cannes Lions Gold. El Ojo Grand Prix. Clio Grand Prix. Featured in TIME. Checked. 
Still, I wasn’t fulfilled. I didn’t want to make only videos. So I walked away.

For the next few years, I worked fully independently. No team, no assistants, no big budgets.
And I learned a lot.
I released a book.
I adapted it into a play.
I co-created an immersive exhibition in a futuristic museum. 
I built brands, films, campaigns, and companies from my room (ok, sometimes I had to go out).
I moved from São Paulo to a house in the forest.
I envisioned a concept called Imagination Medicine. 
I survived existing as a gender-fluid person (from he to they to she).
I merged my studio's name with my own: ALMA, which means "soul" in Portuguese. If you look closely, most of my work here explains why. 

I’m here to tell stories that matter.
For those who need to be seen.
For those who need to remember.
For those who are still here.
Want to tell one together?

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