It’s all very surreal. Tomorrow is my last day in Rio. We just celebrated the opening of the FlutuArte gallery with a big party at sea. It was indescribably amazing and the joy I experienced was overwhelming. Now, two days later, I feel a dull, sad feeling like no matter what I do I will not be able to live these last hours in a worthy way. There is just not enough time left. I don’t know what to do with my last moments in this incredible city.

I am in a car, cruising down the curving beaches of Ipanema, Leblon and Copacabana. The full moon shines over me and I soak it all in; the fresh air, the jungle, the ambiguous horizon of black sea joining the cobalt sky. The sun has just set and workers pack up masses of beach umbrellas for the day as we fly by cyclists and children playing soccer on the beach. The patterned stone sidewalks zigzag along side of Perola’s car as the traffic lights turn from red to green. The tall grass outside seems to dance along to the music playing inside the car and I feel bits of my soul sticking to everything we pass.

I still have over twenty blank heart panels left from the eighty I brought with me to South America. So for my last day I decide to go to a favela to do a Hearts of the World workshop with the children. Perola picks me up in her car along with a couple others and we drive to Baja, Rio to meet up with my friends Breno, Camila and Lau, who helped me to set up the workshop.

After getting lost several times, we finally arrive in San Conrado with it’s pristine beaches and luxury high rises. We drive past swimming pools and rows and rows of BMWs and Porches and then just around the corner to the shabby entrance of the Vila Canoa favela. The six of us pile out of the car and walk through the makeshift gate entering the labyrinth of ramshackle houses and dirt roads. Street dogs meander around us as we search for the children. “Vamos Pintar!” (“let’s go paint!”) we call to the little ones on the streets, “Vamos pintar!” we shout into open windows. Within ten minutes there is a small crowd of children following us like we were the pied pipers of painting. Some kids skip along side us with excitement and some shuffle along shyly. 

The Vila Canoa favela, surrounded by luxury homes and a golf course

The Universal Heart

We set the paints down in the middle of the dirt road and the children sit in a circle on the ground. We give each child a panel with the Universal Heart on it. The kids mob the paints with eager hands. It was the first time any of them had ever painted anything and they took to it with a spirit of unbridled curiosity. We showed them how to mix colors and encouraged them to express what they had in their hearts.

They painted and painted and painted. They didn’t want to stop. Many painted until their entire panel was full of paint and the heart design was covered entirely. Then they painted the backside. When they were finished with the panels they painted themselves. They covered their hands, arms and faces in paint and ran after each other shrieking in joyful painted pursuit. My whole being felt light and I was filled with bliss watching these children explore and discover painting for the first time.

Soon after, as we were leaving them I became filled with a stinging sadness. I realized that as much as these children enjoyed the experience, none of them had paints or markers to continue the practice. I felt like my efforts were incomplete. I had given them a fish, but how could I teach these kids how to fish for themselves when they didn’t have a fishing pole? With no access to brushes or paper thereafter was this workshop just a tease?

Painting in the favelas was both a joyous and heavy experience. There are so many people in the world like these children who are so thirsty for culture, so thirsty for something to do, for something to pour their energy into. The next time I do Hearts of the World in the favelas or with a group of similarly disadvantaged children, I need to bring notebooks and pens to leave behind to give the kids the tools to continue their exploration in expression. Developing a passion for painting, music, dance or anything creative or productive can help children channel their energy into something beautiful and beneficial instead of something destructive. This kind of practice gives them the tools to cope with the realities of a harsh and unfair world. These tools can help them imagine a different world for themselves.

I left to South America with a box full of blank white hearts and return now to New York City with a box full of color, full of soul from the people of Chile and Brazil. My heart is more colorful too, full of new inspiration, knowledge and perspective.

A batch of silk-screened heart panels made back in December for my journey to South America

Immediately after we left the favela I was again faced with the luxury high rises. I looked up to top of one of them at the balcony of the penthouse and saw two children playing behind a glass railing. It is crazy to think about the opportunities given to the children in the penthouse and the disadvantage of the kids living right around the corner in the favela. Some children have all of the opportunity in the world and only because they were lucky enough to be born into a well-to-do family. I felt a pain in my chest thinking about all the children in the world who need love, who would benefit so much from just a little attention. It is up to us, to all of us who have access to more than we need. It’s up to the people who are blessed with abundance to give a hand-up to those less fortunate. It’s everyone’s collective responsibility to help. If we all did so we could have a chance at closing the gap, a chance at educating and elevating our fellow human beings.

They have as much to offer us as we have to offer them.

(more photos of the Hearts of the World workshop to come)