How does it feel?
Photographs from September to December 2019
I can see now I always had a fascination for faces and stories.
Some of my earliest memories are those of going through albums and boxes of pictures. Sometimes with my mother or father by my side passionately sharing the stories those images evoked in their memory as I curiously listened. This might be where my love for photography was born.
Now as a photographer I get to look back on a beautiful collection of images I have taken throughout many years. An archive of memories of my own, a well-documented nomad life.
Every now and then, I get the whim to go through these images and it feels like revisiting different chapters of a book. It’s a bittersweet, even contradictory encounter of feelings.
I marvel at seeing the same pictures I know so well, as they move me differently every year. Portraits are affected by the passing of time because as the years go by, they acquire new meanings to the more simple ones they had when I first took them. Landscapes that once evoked a feeling easy to register, are now beautifully touched by a more complicated, yet beautiful affection, nostalgia even… maybe… I don’t know.
Sometimes bringing up a smile on my face, other times breaking my heart. Still photographs, though to me they are constantly moving. It is the same story, but the narrative is forever changing, and so does the feeling attached.
That’s why I take so long, years even, to share some images. Because in a world where everything is displayed instantly, and everything seems to happen so fast, I need to allow myself the time to take it all in. I know well, whatever it is I feel about this moment and the pictures I take today, itwill be different when I look back a few years from now. Over time I will have a wider vision of whatever is happening inside this moment. And I love that.
The images here were taken between September and November 2019. A very difficult and anxious time for me. Looking back at these images I have very contradictory feelings. It was a hard moment in my life, and it felt very dark, but I can see the bits of light in these pictures. I remember and reconsider my feelings at the time, wishing I had been kinder to myself. And then I get pulled back into the present time, taking that lesson back with me. I must always be kind to myself, just like I know I should have been back then. And for the future, I also keep the belief that there will always be bits of light even in the darkest places.
How does it feel?
To be on your own
With no direction home
Like a complete unknown
Like a rolling stone
People call, say “Beware doll, you’re bound to fall”