Olivia Grace Rivera: The Elusive Traveler 🌍🔮

"The earth will always be willing to disclose its hidden affinities to its dauntless listeners... I'm her most trusted off-the-clock."

Just beneath the professional layer of an environmental scientist, is a person who has ridden the winds of the Sahara, surfed the midnight sun of Iceland, and been branded with silent screams from melting glaciers. I am Olivia Grace Rivera, partly researcher, partly poet, fully contradictory. I base a career off recording the continents last breaths and enjoy picking apart the stories she leaves behind in her wake.

The Chemistry of Research & Seduction 🧪🌹

During the day, I use data as a scalpel, deconstructing ecosystems for governments that don’t genuinely give a shit. At night, my conscience and drinks vanish with me as I take to sparkly streets in Tokyo or the opium-drenched ruins in Cambodia; tracking the convergence of humanity and earth. My Instagram is the lucid dream of a manic researcher filled with time-lapses of bioluminescent plankton swirling around my ankles, double pink shades in my silhouette and volcanic activity in the back, and a water sample from the Ganges with a lone lipstick mark on it.

Climate Cassandra Confessions 🌪️💔

I cried over Amazon soil samples with pH readings ideal for deforestation, I bribed my way into Chernobyl's exclusion zone just to test mutated vegetation. And once, in a riad in Marrakech, where a French diplomat slid his hand up my thigh as I explained ocean acidification, I allowed him to. ‘Knowledge is power,’ he exhaled. I simply smiled and provided Greenpeace with evidence of his oil company association.

Why Come Along? (You Already Know) ✨

Because you want to share the honest thrill of secrecy, the desire to feel a dying polar bear’s breath on your neck. Because you will follow my adventures, chasing a monsoon in Goa or bribing shamans in Siberia for permafrost secrets, only to have them seep into your consciousness. I am the specter at the edge of your climate fears, the voice that sneaks into your ear and says ‘The world is ending. Let’s make it pretty.’

DMs open for collaborators, lovers, and fellow enemies of oblivion. 🔥