Not every forest shouts. Some whisper—in frequencies that only art can capture. This is how
Marcelo Ramos listens to the Amazon: not with his ears, but with his whole body. In his work,
the forest is neither a landscape nor a concept—it is a living, expanding organism. A place
where a tree’s rings converse with the mandalas of existence, and the root of creation
anchors itself in the invisible.
His art doesn’t arise from maps but from atmospheres. It doesn’t depict the Amazon: it
embodies it, as an inner movement that manifests in circles, textures, rhythms, and
silences. The palette is dense—earthy tones that rise from the depths, iron-rich pigments
like açaí, bark, and wildflowers. And then there’s green—not just the green of the canopy,
but the ancestral green that breathes, communicates, and vibrates, as part of a conscious,
living, active phytosphere.
Marcelo paints with what cannot be seen. With what is felt between sky and earth, between
meditation and trunk, between the pulse of the tree and the pause of the spirit. His
architectural training does not confine him to structure but provides balance. His
experience with energy practices like qigong and tai chi makes each work a vibrational
field, where colors move like subtle currents of energy.
In the forest—whether real or inner—the silence speaks volumes. It is the dense, meaning-
rich silence of the night, the same one he knew when living alone in the cerrado of Brasília.
There, as in the Amazon, he understood: one doesn’t abandon civilization, but reconnects
with the essential. It is this reconnection that pulses through every brushstroke.
And when the sound of the forest transforms into image, a visual symphony emerges—a
chorus of circular, darker colors, as if each composition were a score for the eyes. His works
don’t illustrate. They resonate. They carry the movement of roots, the flow of rivers, and the
weight of translating an entire ecosystem into visual sensations.
Marcelo knows the forest is more than “the lungs of the world.” It is heart, mind, arms, legs,
resistance. It is the clenched fist of the indigenous people, raised against senselessness. In
his vision, the Amazon is not for contemplation—it is a call. Art, in this context, becomes a
way to express what can no longer be ignored: the constant threat to a vital source of life,
culture, and wisdom.
Ultimately, to experience the Amazon through Marcelo Ramos’ eyes is to enter a dimension
where everything is connected. Art becomes forest. Forest becomes temple. And the
viewer becomes part of the delicate balance between beauty and urgency.