Só Ouro, Arlindo Moura

It’s in his grandfather’s old workshop that Arlindo feels whole. The late afternoon sun streams through the windows as if they weren’t there, casting a poetic, almost mystical glow over the rich brown tones of the wooden benches and worktables. It’s as if his grandfather were still there, hunched in his corner, meticulously crafting filigree, lost in the precision of his art.