When I was a kid I went on holidays with my family: my father, my mother and my brother. At the time my mother had the habit of taking pictures of all family events, the vacations or birthday parties, my new mask of Zorro or Peter Pan at carnival time, or the new cat who became part of the family, photography as a document of remembrance was frequently used by her.

On that holidays, as we reached the beach where we would spend the summer, my mother took a picture of the three of us, my dad, my brother and I, lying on the sand like masters of the Sun and the eighties. No one could guess that this would be the last photo that we took together.

My father died that same year with thirty-two years old.

The years have passed until adolescence without I actually showing particular interest in photography or being a photographer. Until one day. It was a Sunday afternoon and I was  home alone, bored like most teenagers, so I started rummaging through the drawer where my mother kept the photo albuns, and it didnt take long to discover that last picture of my father, with his eyes open and hugging me. It was like he was alive again, and we were together once more, like it should be, or how I wanted it to be, even if it was only on a piece of paper and in my imagination.

It was on that afternoon that I felt and realized how powerful photography can be, it is so discreet and even banal at the time of capture, but when observed in the future is so powerful and touching.

From this experience comes all my passion and relationship with photography, the way I photograph today, and also the way I relate to images overall. My starting point is always from an emotional place, never intellectual, aesthetic and much less technical.

I guess I became a photographer on the day I saw an old photograph resurrect my father, in that piece of paper I could see the life he no longer had in this eyes that no longer exists.

Looking into the finitude of life in the eyes of my father was what led me to take pictures in the first place, now I challenge it in the only way I know, by collecting portraits that will live more

(in my drawer) than any of us photographed.