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_We are MangoRed


Our healthy crew is composed of photographers, illustrators, layout artists who are just as passionate about our work as the two of us. We are comfortably and chummily left-of-center. We have to confess that we’ve never been to art schools nor earned a major design degree…coz despite its pluses, we reckon this isn’t for everyone..let alone for us. In our case, the real world is the best course.

Our vision is based on principles of openness, directness, irreverence, democracy and a dislike of institutions and pretensions.

We’re always looking for the culturally relevant work and staying current with the hive mind. It’s intuitive, a lot of it. We think it’s just experiencing how far you can keep your mind open on a daily basis, and paying attention.

We’d like to describe our work as a tickle in your brain. It’s not just the quality of the idea, it’s the quality of the execution, the finish. the unique spin in colors, the lines, perspective..when these elements align, they create a visual perfume.

_JB & Chesa




A g a i n  &  a g a i n
the two of us walk out together
under the ancient trees, lie down again and again
among the flowers
f a c e  t o  f a c e  with the sky


H e r e  I  l o v e  y o u

In the dark pines the wind disentangles itself.
The moon glows like phosphorous on the vagrant waters
Days, all one kind, go chasing each other.

T o m o r r o w  we will only give them
a leaf of the tree of our love, a leaf
which will fall on the earth
like if it had been made by our lips

like a  k i s s which falls
from our invincible heights
to show the fire and the tenderness
of a  t r u e l o v e.

Then I see you,
Standing under a spire of pale blue larkspur,
With a basket of roses on your arm.

You are cool, like silver,
And you smile.
The Canterbury bells are playing little tunes


Under the summer roses

When the flagrant crimson
Lurks in the dusk
Of the wild red leaves,

Love, with little hands,
Comes and touches you
With a thousand memories,

And  a s k s you

Beautiful, unanswerable  q u e s t i o n s .

The moon turns its  c l o c k w o r k dream.

The biggest stars look at me with your  e y e s .

And as I love you, the pines in the wind
want to sing your name with their leaves of wire.

In that book which is my  m e m o r y

On the first page
That is the  C h a p t e r when
I first met you

Appear the w o r d s :

H e r e  b e g i n s  a  n e w  L i f e.

Understand, I’ll slip quietly

a w a y  from the noisy crowd

when I see the pale
stars rising, b l o o m i n g , over the oaks.

I’ll pursue  s o l i t a r y  pathways

through the pale  t w i l i t  meadows,

with only this one  D r e a m :


Y o u  c o m e  t o o.