The leap

What pieces or projects have you been working on lately?
My images are closely tied to experience and to wherever life leads me, so I’ve mostly been living. The more I focus on simply being present, the more easily truths seem to reveal themselves. I rarely create fully planned projects; the photographs find their own place and gradually settle into the series they belong to, almost as if they were finding me.

What did you learn (or unlearn) while working on them?
I’m unlearning resistance and learning to enjoy the process. For a long time, I worked from an idea I tried to make real, and that brought a lot of frustration. After wrestling with that approach for quite a while, I’m now practicing surrendering to the process. I allow myself to go with whatever comes… and I’m always surprised by what arrives. So much so that in my non-commercial work, I’m not always fully aware of everything I notice while taking the photograph: often, I discover the symbolism later, when I look at the developed images. It’s almost an exercise of the subconscious.

What words, ideas or emotions were going through your head?
The word of the moment is silence, a silence far more fertile and far less boring than I ever imagined.

I’m increasingly drawn to what emerges from a slow yet very intentional rhythm. And most of the time, accessing that space is only possible through the absence of noise.

Were there any conversations, movies, music, or books that made their way into that work?
I’m falling in love with electronic music—learning how to read it, understand it, and use it to create and sustain emotions. It fascinates me because it connects me quickly to feelings that had been hidden, and to my body. That inevitably shows up in the images. For me, this kind of music, like photography, speaks of desire and expression, of rhythm, of carefully measured silences, but also of groundedness. I’m highly imaginative, so finding channels to bring ideas and emotions to earth helps me enormously to channel all my creative energy.

What's been the most difficult thing you've faced recently in your creative process?
Patience. My mind moves very fast, much faster than matter, so even as I begin to enjoy it, I’m still learning to embrace the slowness of the process I mentioned earlier. Bridging the gap between having an idea and making it tangible is delicate.

Romanticizing everyday life helps me a lot: surrounding myself with honesty, with objects that bring calm, living experiences that expand me, and being with people who help me grow and discover myself. These are safe coordinates in a terrain that is almost always uncertain.

For me, creating is an act of love—toward oneself, above all. And I feel a certain responsibility to stay in a state that allows me to do it with minimal interference, while staying connected to play and pleasure. This whole “daily ritual” helps me remain centered without wanting to escape, and invites me to take the next step toward my goal, whatever that may be.

What is your favorite restaurant and what do you recommend we order?
I really love Lebanese food, but my all-time favorite has to be my mother’s breaded cutlets with Spanish omelette—a recipe she learned from my grandmother.

If your life were a movie this month, what would it be called and who would write the soundtrack?
Air would definitely do the soundtrack. And the title would be The leap.

Recommend one or more artists you follow who inspire you, and tell us what you like most about their work or their way of working.

Pía Riverola: I love the lightness with which she captures the excitement of life as a celebration, and that constant feeling of being invited in.

Cristian Bravo: His work conveys intimacy, detachment, and the beauty of solitude. It also speaks of movement and truth.

Míriam Reyes: I love all of her poetry books, but especially Haz lo que te digo.