La fotografía es inexplicable. De modo que, en realidad, la conversación resulta molesta. No del mismo modo que la tópica expresión del millón de palabras, aunque alude a esa circunstancia. De forma que siempre que alguien intenta explicar, en realidad desvirtúa. Hay que dormirse arriba en la luz (1). Adiós [...]

Cuando me preguntan si me acuerdo de alguien sé que ese alguien ya no está. Es ese pequeño ritual, apenas un eufemismo, para informar de una nueva baja en las mermadas filas de viejos de mi barrio, aquellos que eran padres jóvenes de mis vecinos, y a veces amigos, y [...]

I’ve gone through several nightmarish relationships in my life. As a result, my self esteem was damaged beyond remedy. The women I used to be attracted to vaccined me against any kind of complacency and self-absorption and made healthy vanity the fastest shortcut to shame. Photography became the only acceptable [...]

Some days after knowing about the cheating, I went to a mountain retreat with some friends. We bathed naked in the river, we had miso soup for dinner and meditated in behalf of clarity. Rilke wrote that all insights occur after the fact: I was scared to death, but feeling [...]

As a photographer, I’ve come to realize that certain emotions are invisible to eyes in immediate reality, but they appear, so uncanny familiar, so violent, so touching, once revealed in a photograph. Sometimes I wonder what my life would be if I couldn’t keep record of the overlooked, if I [...]