I wanted to create a photograph about illness—about living in a body and mind with special needs within a system that doesn’t always know how to accommodate vulnerability. It is something that profoundly shapes my life and that of many others. At the time, I was experiencing intense waves of anxiety and a constant distortion of reality, something that, in a system pushing us into a frenetic rhythm, is increasingly common.

When I work on conceptual photography, I usually sketch the images beforehand. This particular self-portrait required many trials and errors to find the right balance in the composition: a suitable position, harmonic reflections in the glasses. Self-portraiture is always challenging, but even more so when you introduce elements like water.

From a symbolic perspective, the image has two main interpretations for me, although I understand that each person may view it through their own lens. On one hand, the glasses create a distortion that reflects the fragmented reality experienced during moments of high anxiety. At the same time, it echoes what I felt as an "inner sea," a tide that swells and churns within the body.

There’s also a direct reference to the use of medication—the attempt to quiet the waves and tame the internal storms. Additionally, the composition and symbolism revolve around the number three: three glasses, three red pills.

There was a time when I protected myself from vulnerability, even from my own sensitivity. I hid my essence. Photography emerged as a need to speak in silence, to learn to speak through the eyes of the camera.

Although my aesthetic leans towards the delicate, even when addressing tough subjects, when I talk about vulnerability, I refer to the place from where I create: exposing what isn’t shown, allowing the light to caress what usually remains in the shadows—for example, illness.

For me, art is profoundly therapeutic. I hope my work can offer others what it has given me: a sense of companionship, of being heard, of knowing we are not alone. But also a jolt—a call to awaken to something new, a way to materialize what inside us can become a fierce animal and consume us. I believe the power of art lies in its ability to resonate with the depth of human experience. I invite the viewer to confront their own experiences, to find beauty in vulnerability and in the parts of ourselves we often fear to show.

My visual universe draws from many disciplines, not just photography. I find inspiration in literature, music, painting, cinema, and, of course, nature. It’s hard to choose just a few references as they change over time, but some artists who have left a mark on me include Dorothea Tanning, Julia Margaret Cameron, Laura Makabrescu, Jane Campion, Chantal Maillard, Pilar Adón, Ethel Cain, and Francesca Woodman, to name a few.

I’m currently working on the publication of a photobook titled Apegos feroces, which will be released in the first quarter of 2025. I’m especially excited because I’m collaborating with outstanding professionals. This project explores themes such as identity, trauma, and that liminal space where the known and the unknown converge. It delves into the relationship between memory and the unconscious, examining how both personal and collective experiences have an impact onto our bodies and shape our identities.