Moon Ribas on feeling the Earth's tremors as a pathway to deeper connection

Q: Culture has the power to move people toward empathy and action. In your work, when technology and the body merge, what have you seen ripple out into real change—emotional, social, or environmental?

Exactly. I think that if you feel more connected to the planet, if you understand it better, your empathy toward it grows. When it comes to technology, there's so much in our daily lives that it's natural to see it in art as well. But in the case of merging technology with the body, I think we're still far from widespread acceptance. People accept merging with technology for medical reasons, but it's harder for them to accept it for artistic purposes.ce and time to develop a deeper perception of reality.

In The Shift, UN Live's thought leaders explore how music, art, media, and even everyday spaces—from stadiums to dinner tables—can become stages for more connection, inspired empathy, and collective action. In today's Q&A, Annesofie Norn, UN Live Lead Curator and Head of Communications, speaks with Moon Ribas, cyborg artist and co-founder of the Cyborg Foundation, on how technology, sensory perception, and embodied experience can become powerful tools for deepening our connection to the planet and fostering environmental empathy. Read along as she shares how her seismic sense transcends traditional perception—inviting us to feel the Earth's movements, understand our place within a living planet, and rediscover the profound connection between humanity and nature.

It's time to rethink—and imagine the futures we want to create.

Q: Your body perceives vibrations beyond what most can feel. When you inhabit this extended sensory world, how does it shape the way you feel connected—to other people, to cities, to nature?

It completely changed how I relate to the world. I think it's different to know that the Earth is moving than to actually feel that the Earth is moving—the connection is difficult to explain, but it's much more profound. When I perform, for example, I close my eyes during Waiting for an Earthquake and imagine going deeper and deeper inside the Earth. It's like a meditative state. I also imagine that I have roots under my feet that extend deep into the Earth, connecting me to all parts of the planet, and through these roots I feel the tremors. The way I perceive cities has also changed. When I started feeling earthquakes, I was shocked at how often the Earth moves and how many significant earthquakes occur.

I thought, "How is it possible that San Francisco exists? How have we decided to build these extremely tall structures on ground so close to a tectonic plate?" It doesn't make sense. Would animals have done that? It feels like we still need to learn how to live on our own planet. My connection to nature, as I said, is more profound now. It feels like a beautiful mystery waiting to be revealed.

My relationship with other people is complex. Sometimes people are deeply moved by my work, in the same way I was moved when I first had the idea, and that's beautiful. But some people don't really understand it. Earthquakes also have a very negative reputation, so sometimes it's difficult to make them poetic.

Cyborg art can also be isolating because we are the only ones perceiving our own art inside our brains.

Q: I'm fascinated by how your art transforms imperceptible rhythms into shared experiences. When someone feels the pulse of an earthquake or the heartbeat of a city through you, what do you hope they carry back into their own lives?

My aim when I create art is to put Earth at the center of the work. My hope is to help people perceive and connect to the planet and nature in a different way—to have this moment and give themselves the space and time to develop a deeper perception of reality.

Q: If we imagine a collective experience where a group could sense the world through your body, what would it reveal about our shared humanity, and how might it awaken responsibility or care for one another?

I actually tried to create this in one of my recent staged pieces, Sota Terra (Underland). We invited the audience to become cyborg explorers. They were equipped with a headlamp—the only light in the performance, so whatever they looked at was what they could see. We also gave them cybernetic bracelets that worked like my seismic sense. Whenever there was an earthquake somewhere on the planet in real time, the bracelet would vibrate.

So while the audience watched the performance about our relationship with the underground, Earth was also appearing, making itself known. When I asked the audience about their experience, they told me it was really emotional. It showed this idea that while we live our lives, Earth keeps moving and evolving—it's a living organism.

Q: UN Live explores how immersive experiences and popular culture can reshape understanding and drive action at a global scale. If you could design a project for the world to discover a more integrated reality through you, what story would you want people to inhabit—and what action would you hope emerges from it?

The project I just described is actually the one that comes to mind, but as I said, I think it's different to know things than to actually feel them. Feeling brings the information to another level—it becomes closer to a sense.

What I would really like is to make people wonder more, to have more curiosity, and to not place the human species at the center of the world. I want people to be aware that we're not alone on this planet, that there are many ways to live, perceive, and experience reality. If you start taking others into consideration, I think everything else comes with it—more understanding, more empathy, and so on.

We extend our sincere gratitude to Moon Ribas for sharing her reflections and insights with us, guiding the conversation on how expanded perception, cyborg art, and embodied technology can reconnect us to the Earth and awaken a deeper sense of responsibility for our shared home.

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