Bubblebble - An Interview with Ed Marola

“We are now in a bubble inside another bubble

Digital beings dreaming pixels”

Cinema, 2025, pixel. Artist: Ed Marola.

Eduardo Politzer, a.k.a. Ed Marola, is a Brazilian contemporary artist, a pixel art creator with a touch of existential philosophy and poetry. A fan of Sidarta Ribeiro and Ailton Krenak (worth a quick Google search if you’re not familiar), he starts by sketching on paper before diving headfirst into the computer. A sound designer for a decade, he ventured into Web3 in 2021, guided by Felipe Salvador during the early days of Hic et Nunc, in the midst of the pandemic. Together with Salvador, he co-created the Bolhalha project — known as Bubblebble in English — which has now evolved into a remarkable exhibition at objkt.one gallery.

The drop, launching on Thursday, the 27th, at 6 PM CET, is a collection of over 30 pieces, including short videos, GIFs, GLBs, and the film Bubblebble, where it all began. A bubble inside another bubble. Check it out below.


I’d like to start by talking specifically about the Bubblebble drop. I understand that it is a derivation of the film Bolhalha, created by you and co-directed by Felipe Salvador. Is that correct? Could you tell me a bit more about the project, both conceptually and how you planned the drop based on it?

This project started around May 2024 when I was invited to participate in a group exhibition at Parque Lage, here in my hometown, Rio de Janeiro. Parque Lage holds a very special place in the Brazilian art scene, with mainstream artists such as Adriana Varejão, Beatriz Milhazes, Ernesto Neto, and Luiz Zerbini. It’s truly an important space, and the curators wanted me to bring some metaverse pixel craziness into the show—so I did my best and proposed a short film.

What are those bubbles? I’m not sure. Conceptually, it’s a bit of a mess — a kind of patchwork of feelings and images. It’s all very intuitive, and once the scenes or images are done, I try to decipher them.
— Ed Marola

Surfing, 2025, pixel. Artist: Ed Marola.

I then invited Felipe Salvador to help me edit the film. His contribution was so significant to the final result that I insisted he be credited as co-director. Since its inception, the project has taken many forms, including an immersive room at NFT Brasil 2024, a shorter video at Rio Innovation Week, and even a live music performance on the Parque Lage stage.

Bubblebble is the English translation of Bolhalha, a word I came up with that means a bubble inside another bubble. What are those bubbles? I’m not sure. Conceptually, it’s a bit of a mess — a kind of patchwork of feelings and images. It’s all very intuitive, and once the scenes or images are done, I try to decipher them. That’s where Salvador played a key role in the process. I sent him a long audio message and a folder full of static PNGs, and with his film director’s eye, he found the thread that ties everything together. The images don’t necessarily match the audio descriptions, leaving a lot of room for interpretation.

Watch Party #1, 2025, pixel. Artist: Ed Marola.

Is Bolhalha the result of a dream, of dreams you had? Or are they “trips” you took while awake, reflecting on life? I was particularly struck by the depth of the discourse in this drop and the questions you lead us to reflect on.

At this point, I can’t even tell the difference. I mean, I write down a lot of my dreams, and the writing process definitely starts by gathering those. But the thing is, I often dream about people from my personal life, and that wouldn’t work—so I had to mix and match the characters. But the feeling is definitely drawn from my nighttime adventures. And yes, I often dream of dialogues or low-gravity situations.

The paradox of the eternal return, 2025, pixel. Artist: Ed Marola.

Two books I haven’t finished yet but have found super insightful are The Restless Dead: Necrowriting & Disappropriation by Cristina Rivera Garza — a fascinating book that’s helping me make sense of the skeleton and little demon characters — and The Forms of the Visible by Philippe Descola, which offers a deep analysis of how the aesthetics of an image connect to notions of soul and spirituality.
— Ed Marola

Do you read a lot about philosophy? What have you been reading lately?

I wouldn’t say a lot like a lot. I like to call myself an amateur anthropologist because I failed a bunch of my sociology and statistics classes and dropped out of anthropology school before getting a degree. But I love reading about neuroscience, anthropology, and philosophy.

Recently, I’ve been really moved by the ideas of contemporary thinkers like Achille Mbembe, Byung-Chul Han, Ailton Krenak, and especially The Oracle of Night by Sidarta Ribeiro. Two books I haven’t finished yet but have found super insightful are The Restless Dead: Necrowriting & Disappropriation by Cristina Rivera Garza—a fascinating book that’s helping me make sense of the skeleton and little demon characters—and The Forms of the Visible by Philippe Descola, which offers a deep analysis of how the aesthetics of an image connect to notions of soul and spirituality.


How does your creative process work? What techniques and software do you use?

Well, it will very often start with words and drawings on paper, then I’ll move to the computer. When music is involved, I create the music first and use it to set the vibe.

Screenshot from one of Ed Marola’s creative process videos on his YouTube channel.

For drawing, I use Aseprite and Procreate. For music, I use Ableton Live. For this film (Bubblebble), Salvador used Premiere and After Effects. The thing is, the words and compositions don’t serve as a rigid guide for the final artwork—they’re more like theme indicators or loose composition guides. At every stage of the process, I like to leave room for experimentation and discovery. I want to be surprised by what the screen gives me.

That applies to both form and texture since I do a lot of sampling from smaller drawings. I’ve documented a lot of this process on my YouTube. It’s not super fancy, but it works for me. 


Could you share a bit about your background and how you got into Web3?

This is really interesting because my friend and co-creator on this project, Felipe Salvador, was the one who introduced me to Hic et Nunc. Before that, my art practice was 100% focused on music — I worked as a sound designer for TV, brands, and movies for over a decade.

Felipe and I met through work; we did some cool stuff together — he was the animator, and I was his sound guy. During the social isolation period of the pandemic, I started drawing pixel art and incorporating visual arts into my practice. When I eventually showed him the early sketches of my purple stuff, he told me to check out Hic et Nunc and helped me set up a Tezos wallet. That was right at the beginning — March 2021.

Eventually, he got busy with other things, while I kept minting and getting to know the community. So yeah, it feels like a full circle now — like I’m onboarding him back into the space where he first onboarded me. A bubble inside another bubble.

How does the audience in Brazil receive your work, especially when you mention that it is sold as NFTs?

Well, the film was very well received by the general public when shown IRL at Parque Lage. People found it interesting and unique. Some thought it looked a bit childish—I'm not a huge fan of that interpretation, but I get where it comes from. Kids really connect with it.

I got this cool feedback from the Parque Lage curator: an artist came to the vernissage with his 10-year-old kid, who got completely hypnotized by the film, watching it twice in a row. The dad was surprised and asked the curator, "WTF?!" and the curator just said, "Relax, it's good stuff."

As for the NFT side of things, that’s not something I bring up very often outside our bubble. Of course, it’s not a secret, but the conversation often goes in directions I’m not interested in — especially with art people who think they know what’s happening because they’ve read about some million-dollar rug pulls or other scams. So I usually don’t mention it unless someone asks. But some people do find it really interesting, and I always offer to help if they want to dive in.


On pixels

“When I draw pixels, I enter a new space in the collective unconscious, where selves and egos control pixel avatars through quests and adventures, facing death — but death is not the end. The ultimate end is the game over.

Pixels are atoms of digital existence; they form molecules and sprites. My art is a speculative reflection on how digital technologies structure and update the human condition. Sounds and images are used to convey a dream-like state, where wild, symbolic ideas are arranged and offered as gentle waves of confusion.”

Eternal Garden, 2025, pixel. Artist: Ed Marola.

On demons

“We came to an agreement:
Earth is the house of nature,
Hell is the house of men.

We are living in dead times,
the little demons are having fun.
How do we offend the fundamentalists?

The cute demons convey a message: a critique of the rising tides of Christian fundamentalism in my country. Demons make generous offers in exchange for the artist's soul. They make people sin, they hold temptations, and they make boring people find joy.

It saddens me to see the diversity of beliefs, creeds, and folk tales erased in the name of a Christocentric religion. The cute little demons in my art will fight that in their own crooked ways.”

Little demon's dream, 2025, pixel. Artist: Ed Marola.


Bubblebble

Drop on Thursday, 25th, 6PM CET

On objkt.one

To dive deeper into Marola’s universe of sound and pixels: eduardopolitzer.cargo.site

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The Dark Sides of the Mind: An Interview with Demon Ego