I’ve been working on my portfolio, developing a body of work so I can focus as much as possible exclusively on photography. Mostly portraits!

What did you learn (or unlearn) while working on them?

I learned not to be afraid of having fun with the people I’m sharing the moment with, and to let that enjoyment show in gestures and poses. Re-editing digital work has also taught me a lot—looking back at my past images and reflecting on myself through them. These days, “old work” can be just a few months old, which is kind of crazy. Everything moves so fast. Taking the time to revisit it, appreciate it, and explore how it can change in a new edit has been invaluable.

What words, ideas or emotions were going through your head?

Patience, above all. Consistency, vocation, discipline. Japan. The word Japan evokes, cliché or not, the idea of dedication to work and discipline in Asia, particularly in Japan and China.

Were there any conversations, movies, music, or books that made their way into that work?

Music always slips in. I spend hours listening to it, it’s an essential companion during long editing sessions. I find it sparks emotions and shapes mental atmospheres. Its abstraction is like a blank canvas, helping me imagine, create ideas, and envision spaces and images.

Another practice that always accompanies my process is wandering without a destination. I go out with just my house keys, no phone, wallet, or camera. Walking helps clear my head from all the things we’re constantly absorbing through screens. I find it necessary to step away from that web of information and constant productivity: to walk, look at the street, watch people, exchange a greeting—whatever it may be. I keep this practice alive not as a statement, but simply because it feels necessary.

What's been the most difficult thing you've faced recently in your creative process?

The most difficult thing I’ve faced—and continue to face—is myself. After years of training and working as an actor, making a sharp turn at 30 to pursue photography was incredibly challenging. It’s something I’m still navigating. Today, I approach it with much more kindness toward myself, my process, and my growth. Learning to silence the voice that says, “You’re an actor, not a photographer.”

What is your favorite restaurant and what do you recommend we order?

I don’t have just one favorite place; the food scene in Mexico City is overwhelming in the best way. That said: the sopa azteca at Tortas al Fuego and the tacos al pastor with cheese at Naranjito, in Letrán Valle.

If you’re in Argentina: the vacío sandwich at Glorieta de Quique, across from Boca’s stadium. And also in La Boca, the square fugazzeta at Arsenio, an incredible Paraguayan pizzeria.

If your life were a movie this month, what would it be called and who would write the soundtrack?

This month of my life would be called Longing with a soundtrack by H Hunt, solo on piano—taken from that intimate, warm, and embracing album: H Hunt – Playing Piano for Dad.

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.

Fausto Elizalde, Suffo Moncloa, Marina Monaco and Michael Bailey Gates. Four remarkable contemporary photographers. I find it astonishing how, in an art form as widely explored as photography, it’s still possible to develop such a distinctive personal voice.

Nala Sinephro makes extraordinary music and often helps me on a spiritual level, creating a deep sense of connection and immersion. The same goes for Pharoah Sanders and Alice Coltrane.

Lucrecia Martel, through her films and lectures, is a vital figure for Latin America—a filmmaker whose work is extraordinary and deeply committed to Latin sovereignty, environmental issues, and creating sensitive, meaningful projects.

I also strongly recommend Agnès Varda, Lou Ye and Chris Marker. They are filmmakers of immense sensitivity, restless and often working just outside conventional narrative structures, though that doesn’t mean narrative itself is a bad thing.

Francisco Macia

I was born in Buenos Aires. I trained as an actor and worked extensively in that field—until I left it behind for photography. It was a calling that had always run in parallel, until I finally approached it seriously, with care, discipline, and commitment. I moved to Mexico to work as a photographer.

www.instagram.com/franciscomacia_/

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