"Path: Mine, Yours, Ours" Sideboard

There are many hands involved. That of Stive Mehinako, in the Kaupüna village, who collected the leaves and bark of trees to dye the threads with the soul of the Xingu. The one by Maibe Maroccolo da Mattricaria, which extracted from them the pigments that colored the cotton. Guto and David, in the carpentry shop, who broke their heads to sculpt the curves that the work required in the jequitibá, translating my project into steps capable of being carried out by the CNC router. The women from the Kaupüna village who taught me through video lessons how to weave a mat with buriti stems. And mine, who designed the work and wove their stories with jequitibá cylinders.

When we walk, we leave footprints, even if invisible, that tell us that we passed by, met people, exchanged, moved, impacted. We leave traces that can be followed, sharing paths, even if in another time and space. We move forward, along a path not yet defined, believing in our intuition, in our heart, in our dreams.