By deliberately abandoning sharp focus, I aim to mirror the fluidity of time, using motion and the unseen wind as a brush to paint with light, shadow, texture, and atmosphere. The scenes transform into something closer to a lingering memory than a physical reality.

Sometimes I return from a walk without taking a single frame. I prefer photographing only scenes that feel truly special to me, and if something is even slightly mediocre, I now choose to leave it. Shooting five photos in a day already feels like a big success to me.

No pertenecemos del todo al lugar al que llegamos, pero ya no resonamos completamente con el lugar de donde venimos. Existimos en ese espacio intermedio. Y, sin embargo, ahí también hay celebración: la capacidad extraordinaria de florecer en la incertidumbre, de construir comunidad desde la vulnerabilidad.

I don’t keep track of people’s names and don’t know too much about famous photographers. I see stuff on IG, but I don’t know how to find them for you. Off the top of my head, I like Suffo Moncloa. I like Aitor Laspiur, his aesthetics and subjects.

My working method has, for years, been tied to several specific projects: projects focused on particular psychological, philosophical, and political concepts. Themes such as ideology, demythologization, human suffering, resistance, power, critique, and confronting capitalism. I advance my concerns simultaneously and then categorize them into different collections.

At first it was a lot of imposter-syndrome thoughts, but then I came to a place of calm and the ideas started flowing really effortlessly. I drew meaning from some past traumas, and it felt empowering to express those feelings through my work.

Más allá de la arquitectura, el estudio se construye sobre una manera particular de entender el mundo, donde los valores y la filosofía nos llevan a pensar, examinar y razonar el funcionamiento, la visión, la misión y el sentido profundo de lo que hacemos.

Taking these nighttime pictures has been therapeutic and has helped me focus on what kind of photographs I want to be remembered for. I still feel anxious shooting alone at night, but I’m learning that I’m often the only one holding myself back.

The work arises from a condition in which time, matter and reaction operate without a predetermined outcome. The image is what remains when this condition is interrupted out of necessity. Each work is the trace of a temporal decision, rather than a predesigned image.

It was difficult to understand that I have schizophrenia and that I need monthly injections and medication. Somehow, my creative process has become more relaxed and confident. I try to return to a simpler kind of photography, focused on everyday life and what the camera does.

I’m forever learning while painting. I feel like there’s an endless internal monologue going through my head that guides me whichever way feels right in the moment. When you’re so immersed in any art form, it’s very easy to almost get lost in it.

La naturaleza sigue siendo una de mis principales fuentes de inspiración. Me atraen especialmente sus formas, patrones y estructuras, así como la manera en que la luz interactúa con ellas. Busco reinterpretarlas a través de los materiales, el color y la luz para crear piezas que transmitan sensaciones.

Al ser un proyecto tan personal donde casi todas las decisiones finales en cuanto a repertorio y a qué quiero contar las tomo yo, me dejo llevar por lo que siento en cada momento y por aquellas canciones que me emocionan particularmente.

The project grew out of a need to pause and notice what usually goes unseen: the subtle, almost fragile moments between movement and stillness. I learned to trust doubt as part of the process, not as weakness, but as something that keeps the work alive.

Siempre habrá una silla, un huequito, para sentarnos la una al lado de la otra. “Au soleil” cuenta una historia de amor entre las chicas de esas fotos, y el estribillo es una promesa de esperarla au soleil.

I realised I should trust those first takes, my intuition and instincts. A lot of inspiration for my work comes from the things that I feel, imagine, remember, long for, love doing or wish I’d be doing more.

They include small, flat ceramic figurines that I make based on tracings of drawings my Gramma did for me when I was around four years old. She would draw them on the backs of cereal or cracker boxes, and I’d lay them out on the TV room floor.

Photography for me is an anchor memory of experience, a trace of encountering another presence. In the studio, I work with figurative vessels shaped by rhythm, body and intuition, searching for verticality, weight and volume while allowing material and emotion to merge into form.

Bringing raw materials and canvas into my studio was so eye opening and humbling. It’s a different process and I’ve had quite a few learning curves, but it’s been so fun and worth it. Something that I face a lot is when an idea doesn’t come out as planned.

Quería que alguien entrara y sintiera que lo estaban viendo a él. No las fotos. Él. Que cada imagen fuera un espejo en lugar de una ventana. Que saliera pensando en algo que cree, que ama, que venera y que quizás no se había permitido nombrar.

Vivimos rodeados de una presión constante por mostrar, publicar y terminar cosas. Lo más difícil ha sido defender los momentos donde todavía no existe una obra, donde sólo hay observación, dudas o asociaciones aparentemente inconexas. Muchas veces el trabajo más importante ocurre antes de que exista algo que fotografiar.

I learned and developed my knowledge of the black-and-white darkroom process, having primarily used digital photography prior to this. I also learned the benefits of working with collaborators who have complementary skill sets and aligned visions.

Dream is also a word I have a lot on my mind. While thinking about a house before starting to sketch it, I often space out in a very abstract way and can see shapes and colors. I hope this more abstract side of my mind will find its way onto paper.

Opté por volver a usar técnicas tradicionales. Volver a sentir la textura del papel de algodón, tener el contacto con el pigmento húmedo e incontrolable, buscando el error para darle forma a mis ideas, ha sido un motor este último año.

As an ecologist, I’m fortunate that I can take my cameras out into the field as part of my work while surveying for fauna and flora, and I try to capitalise on this where I can. I’m hoping to document more endangered species and how they interact with their environments.

Drawing book covers is both an incredible opportunity and a responsibility: it’s about telling a story through illustration and visually representing someone else’s narrative.

I try not to impose any specific concept or idea onto the work at the beginning. I feel that once I come back and look through all the images, the concept reveals itself naturally. And that’s pretty much what happens: ideas emerge from places I didn’t fully understand while I was there.

Todos podemos hacer algo con nuestro arte o profesión, que cambie un poco las cosas de este mundo de mierda, porque en él hay muchas otras cosas por las que vale la pena darle, si con mi foto puede cambiar lo que me incomoda, pues voy a hacerlo.

Growing up with the beach being so accessible has always drawn me back to the water. It’s my favourite subject to photograph: life on the water, how people interact with it, and the light changing throughout the day. So I’m excited to expand my work documenting these parts of daily life in the Mediterranean.

There are moments when I question whether I’ve already exhausted my strongest ideas, but I still feel a sense of responsibility to continue generating new concepts. Over time, the ideas do emerge, and I’ve learned that the process often requires patience, persistence and, sometimes, a change of environment.