Scanning, cutting and labeling my negatives accurately acts as a bookend and sets me up for the next roll. The process resets me in a way I didn't expect, maybe it's the clarity that comes from looking around and taking stock of where you're at.

Communicating very personal emotions: sometimes I feel they're too intimate, but I'm learning to integrate them into my work without fear. I've also learned not to force experimentation in commercial projects: clients come to me because of my style. I bring that exploration to my personal work.

There are things or scenes that seem very normal in my daily life or context, but from the outside they can seem more interesting. We never know who might be watching out there and be intrigued by what's happening here.

I’m currently working on a series titled “Lovers” and a cycle of drawings called “Never-Ending Stories”. Both are ongoing projects that explore human relationships—between lovers and close friends who share their secrets with one another.

I try not to focus on the final result and simply go with the flow. While I do set boundaries regarding the subjects themselves, within those limits, I’m learning to stop overthinking the outcome - instead, I focus on improvising and trusting my hand.

What I continually learn each time I immerse myself in a project with new materials is to accept uncertainty and not cling so tightly to the outcome I imagined. And patience.

I’m learning to trust the flow of creation, to let ideas move through me without resistance and to allow the work to find its own shape. Letting the quiet doubt fall away and allowing my work to simply breathe in the sun.

Constant social media use ends up being very dangerous and counterproductive for artists. On the one hand, we are overstimulated by images, by things that the algorithm knows can seduce us, and on the other hand, there is constant comparison with what everyone else is doing.

Much of my work has strict and efficient formulations, but in this case there was a certain lightness and a more relaxed approach that obeyed an intuitive dialogue with the material characteristics of the objects in terms of shape, color, weight, or density.

I am learning to take a step back, go for a walk or even sleep over a project. I'm learning to be more patient with things. To give projects space and time. But in the end it's such a balance you have to find in it. Some of my best work has been when I didn't overthink anything and just put myself out there.

Some artists seem to have been seen before they were experienced. In the case of Kati Horna, her granddaughter Kati Polgovsky Horna remembers her through the everyday: her home, her presence, her way of being. The exhibition “Kati Horna and Her Friends” at the Georgina Pounds Gallery offers a shifted interpretation of life in images.

I've learned to gather a lot of references for each project and to fully immerse myself in the process. I truly merge with what I do; sometimes I realize that, subconsciously, I dress in the colors of the image I'm working on.

There was significant pressure to produce such a large body of work on a shipping deadline, with some pieces still drying as they left the studio. It required a lot of discipline and trust in my process.

Taking self-portraits is a practice that began without me even realizing it, and one I've never shared until now. It's been a way for me to get to know myself, in my most vulnerable and even playful moments. It's like looking back and realizing all the lives I've lived.

I'm learning to trust my mistakes and incorporate them into my work. I try not to overthink while I draw and let myself be guided by my mood at that moment.

While I was on the crane building the final piece, I made aesthetic decisions about it. I was thinking about how interesting it is that many contemporary artists make drawings and then have their pieces manufactured. I feel that very creative moments are lost during the production process.

Lately I've been experiencing nostalgia as a latent emotion; before I thought it was a bad thing, but with time I understand that it's not all bad. I love remembering the past, my friends from design school, and those years.

Analog photography is a back-and-forth of emotions and frustrations. Patience is the greatest virtue in this learning process. Through so many mistakes, you begin to understand more about how it works, and honestly, it’s such an enriching feeling—even though it can also be discouraging at times.

Working with paper and printed photographs is a continuous learning process. It develops my compositional skills, color sense, and creativity in general.

I’ve always been obsessed with bygone eras — the cars, the fashion, the music, and the way we’ve evolved as a society. But more than anything, I’m drawn to architecture: the designs that were brought to life decades ago and that have, in many cases, been left almost entirely unchanged.