When the river spoke, no one listened

The work invites viewers to witness the slow violence of climate change in real time. A large vertical scroll layered with archival material (photographs, handwritten notes, and mixed media) is gradually stained by the slow drip of mud trickling down the scroll in real time throughout the exhibition. The orange-tinted mixture references the floodwaters of the Guaíba River in Brazil, forging its own wild path through obstacles.

Each drop seeps with quiet tension, evoking the ticking of a clock. Time becomes embodied, absorbed into the paper, distorting and staining the material like trauma sinking into memory. As the water flows over news articles and scientific facts warning of these potential disaster, it erases, drowns, and silences the words, much like climate scientists had warned of the potential floods for over 40 years to deaf ears. When the liquid dries, it leaves behind cracked, ghost-like stains. These echoes of impact linger long after the event has passed, becoming a metaphor for the physical and emotional residue disasters imprint on bodies, landscapes, and collective memory.