In 2020, something unprecedented happened: the entire world stopped due to a pandemic. I never imagined I would experience something like this. In my mind I could conceive the possibility of a war, even a meteorite, but never the image of deserted cities, defeated by a invisible enemy.

In my day-to-day life, the changes were not drastic. I missed my friends' visits, yes, but I could go out into the garden, walk among the trees and tend the vegetable patch. However, what changed completely was my perception of time. The days became free of obligations and commitments, becoming something new: truly free time. It was not a break, nor a vacation. It was a pause, stunned, silent and hollow.

With production on hold and no big goals in mind, I let myself drift away into the serenity of those long, quiet days. (I know using this adjective may seem insensitive, especially considering all the suffering brought on by the pandemic, but here, in my little haven, everything was the same. The sun continued to rise, the plants bloomed happily with the arrival of spring, and there was something comforting about that silent stillness.)

It was then that I remembered some seeds that had been brought to me from Brazil years ago and that had been forgotten in a drawer. I amused myself by creating little miniatures with them, letting my hands shape something new in the midst of a sick world.