My mom braids my hair. My mom braids my hair. My mom braids my hair. I try to prepare. Life must go on. All displacement is the action. My sister died without becoming a mother, without knowing Rio de Janeiro. I always asked not to die for my mother's sake. I never thought she was going to bury a daughter. My sister's daughter was not born, I think that was why she was murdered by him. Art likes to talk about big things ... Great events in life, social and political, about what never ceases, about what may always be repeated ?. I like to talk about small things. What will one day inevitably end? About what changes almost nothing ... And at the same time, that's all. All that can be said about life is gesture, and it is small. This is a work about love. It is a work about mother, about care. And I dedicate it to my mother.