hospital of emotions: fourth floor – hope department

LINK: hospital of emotions: fourth floor – hope department

Preface: hospital of emotions: fourth floor – compassion department

I think that hope is something that everyone needs… because if we don’t have hope, how do we move forward?

Room 52: The installation is intentionally simple, encouraging instinctive marks and symbols.

Everything is temporary. Chalke Diem.

Room 54: IT’S A LIVING is not just a statement but it is also a life philosophy for Ricardo Gonzalez, a designer and artist from Durango, México currently living in Brooklyn. His signature script style can be easily recognized from large-scale murals to commercial work for some of the biggest brands to a simple sticker in the streets.

The ambiguity in the typographical messages continually creates a dialogue between the viewer and the artwork.

“A word is an image” and an image can be interpreted in so many ways.

The direct approach of typography has been an exploring path where the main goal is to question our daily living and to produce a positive impact. After all, it’s a living.

Room 58: The browser windows remind us that we live in the post-digital age.

The boundaries between the analog and digital worlds are blurring.

We can reclaim these digital windows and use them to connect with other people and the world around us. They also allow us to learn about different perspectives and realities, connecting us far more than they divide us. Or is that just wishful thinking?

The once so open web seems increasingly confined and controlled by algorithms and corporations. Let’s set aside the logic of the market and profit, rediscover the potential of our online and offline networks, and reclaim our sense of agency!

Room 57: The Transfusion is a representation of the resiliency and interconnectedness of a healthy forest.

At its center, a tree trunk reclines in a hospital bed: a displaced giant undergoing an unlikely “transfusion”

Surrounding the trunk, a suspended orchard of IV bags acts as a fragmented archive of the biome. Each bag contains a single element of nature: fungi, seedpods, insects, and mosses, performing life-support for a collapsed community member.

This is a space where people can experience a sense of loss, but also renew a commitment to preserving the magic of our environment.

Room 55: Using post-consumer cardboard boxes, this installation transforms recycled paper materials into a forest of woven trees. Like root systems and mycelial networks, the woven paper structures rely on interconnection for strength. The forest exists through relationships – no single tree stands alone.

By remembering the paper’s origin, the discarded material becomes a symbol of hope, showing how care, attention, and the human hand can transform waste into renewal. After the exhibition, the installation can be fully recycled, continuing the cycle of transformation beyond the hospital walls.