Thursday, August 3, 2017

Venezuela: Asamblea constituyente.

¿Desde cuando es éste el principio del fin, Capriles? ¿Desde cuando sabes como es el régimen, Maria Corina?. El 6 de Diciembre del año 2015, Venezuela tuvo la oportunidad de cambiar el rumbo, pero la egolatría y excesivo narcisismo de los dirigentes opositores, le dejó al gobierno venezolano en bandeja de plata toda facilidad de riendas a la gobernabilidad. El 14 de Enero del 2016 escribí, a propósito de las déspotas acciones de Henry Ramos Allup en el parlamento; "Está tan en usted, que ni siquiera mide sus consecuencias políticas; en el lenguaje de lo simbólico, de lo que la política se alimenta, usted acaba de pintarse de colonizador europeo, y ha mandado descolgar el cuadro de los dioses del sol y del rayo. ¿Cree usted señor Allup, que ahora su partido pueda ir a una elección?… al descolgar a Chávez se descolgó usted". Yo tengo la convicción, de que ésta batalla la perdieron aquel día, aquel día en que se abstuvo el Chavismo y votó la oposición.

La constituyente es, la ola de vuelta a las caras de la "resistencia". Irresponsabilidades apoteósicas, mes tras mes, día tras día, de una oposición que se empeña en negar al Chavismo en vez de traerlo a su casa. Pura especulación pura, ya sabían que perderían; Colombia, México y un montón de países más, ya sabían que la constituyente se instalaría, tanto así, que desconocieron resultados muchísimo antes de que éstos fuesen anunciados... por ahí leí, "el gobierno ya jugó su última carta", pero es que la oposición, y la derecha internacional también. ¿Que les queda ya?, ¿El loop de la protesta?. 

Aquel diciembre, tras elecciones también escribí, "los perros que siempre ladraron tienen ya el escenario para morder, pero no lo harán, porque en cambio se quedarán sentados del lado derecho e izquierdo de la cámara de diputados vulgarizando lo negativo del enemigo, cual vieja chismosa, gritándole al pueblo “¡Viste! ellos no te quieren”"... esa formula aquí siempre funcionó, siempre, dejen la ceguera, el gobierno Venezolano, una y otra vez, apelando al sentimentalismo, cual telenovela estelar, a tenido el escenario perfecto para insistirle al pueblo el "ellos no te quieren", y todo cabe allí, todo, desde una declaración de la fiscal general primero anunciada por Ramos Allup, hasta la sordera colectiva ante la crítica hacia la redacción de las preguntas hechas en un plebiscito ilegal. El Chavismo mutó del tal manera, que se convirtió en los medios de comunicación mismos. El Chavismo es televisión cualquiera, apela a rescatar al "pobrecito" y a repartir caramelos para la diabetes intelectual... y esa fórmula no fallará jamás, porque se le ha dado a la gente una razón para vivir, para luchar, para ejercerse como ciudadano. 

Hoy estoy seguro, el Venezolano contrario al régimen está más decepcionado que nunca, y creerá en este fraude como en ningún otro... pero mucho ojo, vivimos de especulación, de pensar que un millón de likes en Facebook es tener el soporte de todo un país, de agarrar "yo tengo un amigo que era Chavista y ya no lo es" como percepción de triunfo. El fuerte espíritu del Chavismo siempre ha sido la no injerencia, y la participación del pueblo. Con la constituyente se reforzaron, paralelamente ambas dos, con Almagro y el combo cínicamente parcial, y la premisa primera del cambio constitucional al que Nicolas Maduro hizo clarísima alusión "una constituyente obrera, de la gente". La izquierda no está en la calle cerrando vías, se organiza desde abajo y adentro, donde no los ve nadie, bajo una gran escuela Castrista, en los callejones oscuros donde la oposición teme existir.

Que nos quede pues algo bien claro... al chavista hay que verlo, y hay que traerlo a casa. No creo en fraude, está claro, bien pudieron mentir ante las elecciones parlamentarias, no lo hicieron, porque no tenían los números, y porque después pudieron negarla todo lo que quisieron, y pudieron negarla porque le dieron todas las herramientas para eso. Si tampoco hubiesen tenido los números este pasado 30 de Julio, hubiesen instalado su asamblea constituyente paralela, porque éste gobierno Madurista, sin democracia de por medio, y sin Chávez de policía, actúa así, si ganan ganan, y si pierden pierden, para ganar después. Y ojo, no solo la oposición vive de falsas percepciones, el denominado "Chavismo crítico" también vive de creer que son una gran parte del país. Y de percepción vive el país entero, donde aún hoy la gente no tiene certeza de si los dólares que designa el gobierno a las droguerías llegan y los desaparecen, un beneficio de duda que debilita toda posibilidad de transición gubernamental. Señores, de percepción vivimos, con un presidente que dice "yo podría construir, pero te pedi el apoyo y no me lo diste", y con la percepción se vota.

Que diferencia hubiese en esta batalla existido, si la MUD hubiese tomado de bandera la aberración del arco minero, no solo porque se vestían de lo que Hugo Chávez más defendió, si no porque hubiesen podido traer a voces verdaderamente desterradas y aplastadas por éste gobierno, y hubiesen pintado su fachada de justicia. Dicen hoy que éste es un escenario similar al plebiscito de Marcos Pérez Jimenez en 1957, ¿Será?, veremos pues, a la gente en la calle, a toda la gente tumbando a este gobierno. Malas noticias; no pasará. El chavismo no está desarmado ni internamente deteriorado, si no todo lo contrario, además cuenta con toda la fuerza armada, de la cual en 1992 surgió. Aunque cueste creerlo, en el poder no viven de puñaladas en la espalda como la MUD, basta con ver las declaraciones sincronizadas de todos, desde Cabello y los Rodriguez, hasta el jefe de la FANB.

Tuesday, August 1, 2017

The bug of consciousness.

A little bug flew to my bed sheets. It landed near my eye sight. I turned the phone light on, its eyes were shining like cat in the night. I observed its nature for a while... got my hand close to its head and used my finger as projectile. The bug, which was just probably waiting to hunt something in the night, has died of contusion. It twist on the floor for few seconds and then, doesn't move ever again. Suddenly I weep... asking myself, why did I kill it? Why? It wasn't flying around, it didn't disturbed me, it wasn't ugly nor huge. It was just a little bug.

Sometimes I just don't tolerate the fact that nothing lasts forever... that our life has no purpose. That many don't get to understand when I speak from honesty, without darker intentions, and attack me and point me as a fiend. That one night stand don't get me to a love story. That even having privileges, I always lack what I want. Sometimes I really think about what we say to ourselves about suicide, that "is a stupid decision"... stupid, why? What's stupid in dying?. You won't have a future to be worry about, nothing will ever hurt again... there is no consequence on dying. Why is it stupid?.

Sometimes I just don't tolerate the fact that nothing lasts forever. Back in February, when I was about to board a flight to Malaysia from Ecuador, I was told I couldn't leave without a valid visa or a return ticket. I spent the past 5 years entering Malaysia, yet as I wasn't student anymore I did not have the right to go. In that instant it hurt me just the fact that I couldn't even hug for a last time the woman I loved for the past year. She wasn't in my life anymore, yet I missed her with all my guts. When I could finally leave, arriving to Malaysia I realised she was with someone else already. Nothing planned ahead seems to make sense.


So I moved on with my life, concentrated on my job like never before. I got a new room, the first master room I could ever rent by myself. I moved to Kuala Lumpur, I felt fulfilled, for the first time living not asking my parents a penny... then I'm told I have to leave. Once again, I needed to start from zero. Once again my country wasn't my country, and the country I moved to wouldn't be mine either. My native country is having a war out of polarization, and any opinion I can make from outside seems to be important to anyone.
Last night, after killing the bug I went to sleep and I had a dream from which I just remember the sun was going down on the horizon, gigantic, and Mercury's shadow was visible... I woke up thinking, even in my dreams I'm just human. I can't be in Mercury, I am a human, I can only dream of Mercury from earth. It's fine, I won't kill myself, just the anxiety of not knowing what will happen next keeps me alive, just to know that there are many souls I need to meet again... as Rust Cohle in True Detective says "I woke up every day obviously just because of my programming, and I lack the constitution for suicide". I certainly don't think I'm in a moment of my life in which I can keep underestimating suicide... specially knowing that having a salary don't fix a life, having your own room either, that loving does not mean being loved back, that a sexual experience of a night does not define relationships, that having a job doesn't give you a free ticket to an immigration office and what you build does not stabilize anything in this life. Anything.
My parents are in their 60 and they've started again from zero in a new country. I admire them, I ask myself... how will I survive in here for 60 years... damn, so much time ahead and sometimes I feel this is it.

Saturday, July 1, 2017

On why I don't stop consuming meat.

When I was a kid, me and my family went on holidays to the beach, we sat at a restaurant which displayed how did they kill the lobsters... their scream being killed never left my mind. I don't consume sea food, that experience shocked me forever. I don't think sea life belongs to us, by nature, we aren't sea creatures... so I don't see how we have the right. Now, to my double moral, it seems to me normal the killing of animals in the same ground of us... it makes me question myself, it always does. Where does my moral, my judgment, stands?, why is it one thing right and not the other. Perhaps I need to see a pig, a chicken, a cow, being killed that way live, in front of me, for my brain to never forget it the way the lobster didn't... I can't conceive my sandwich without ham, a lunch without red meat, I simply can't... anything outside that does not evokes hunger on me. The benefits are undeniable; nutrients, vitamins... iron, zinc, red blood cells' auxiliaries... I wish I could have the courage, to truly live a life saving the planet, but I keep using air conditioner and traveling by toxic vehicles, which burns enough CO2 to melt 12% of the ice in the north pole per decade... I keep doing that as much as I keep eating meat. But just imagine our race wouldn't have achieved consciousness, if we would have been creatures of not intelligence, nobody will question killing the pray. My salvation; I did not create this, I was born in here, under this conditions, I did not choose to be in a human sperm rather than in a horse sperm... my only hope, my tranquility and relief, is that we, as specie, will later perish and will leave this planet to its original owner, nature. We weren't here always, and we won't be... death will do the justice for us. In 500 years, this planet will keep existing in this solar system, will manage its atmosphere and will allow new species to emerge, as always, the ultimate authority. This planet gives the conditions, and will ever have the last word. For us time is slow, but we're just a second.

Monday, May 15, 2017

How life should be.

I had to leave my country six years ago to motivate myself. 
Which I did, in the most unexpected way. 

All my life I wanted to be motivated by others. I went to psychoanalysis for a while… I was looking for motivation there too, and all I had to do was to seek motivation within my own self. With my own way of being. My own thinking. My decisions. 

Six years ago, leaving my country was surely the first time I got an opportunity to motivate myself. I didn’t knew it then, but the living in another country, and having to learn a new language (not ‘adapting myself to a new culture’, because cultures are completely independent to oneself) would become the first thing in my life I felt genuinely proud of doing. Proud of such a jump.

With that doubtful, yet accurate encouragement, I planted a seed of freedom, and later I started doing things in my life that were entirely my decisions, my plants… not minding consequences but experience. I re thought my judgment, literally, and I went to discover myself. If you want a cliche in this part of the story, I started smoking marihuana and cigarettes, elements that might seem silly to some, but that throws you to another stream of people, thinkings and vibes you won’t find in people that don’t consume them. I spent time with the kind of people I would have never say ‘hello’ to in my own country.

Individually, I went down to prostitution, regularly… I went to transexuals, many times… I seduced men, not necessarily going to bed with them, but pretending I wanted to. I was just thinking I didn’t knew my sexual preferences. I say ‘thinking’ with property, because since I was very little I did never identified myself with what being a ‘man’ meant in my environment, yet I liked girls… and that was tremendously confusing. I always thought, through all my life, that if whom surrounded me thought I was homosexual, there might have been some truth in that. Therefore, my sexual experiences with guys were always easy to find, since I’m a child, and what wasn’t clear by then it was that an orgasm does not have a sexual preference… an orgasm just happens as a reaction of the body, and the body reacts to tact, not to genre. So if I had orgasms with guys… everything made sense.  

At some point, I began to realise my life was a dogma.
I understood everything as black and white. 
I understood everything from other’s perspectives.
I grew up thinking being myself wasn’t quite correct.
I had to fix me.

And you know what I think it saved the day?
People. In others I had examples.
So diverse. So unexpected. 

Little by little… person by person… 
I was realizing I wasn’t the only one feeling aside, abnormal. 
That in one way or another, we all feel that way. 
We all go through difficulties… and somehow…
That’s the roof we choose as shelter. 

My biggest problem, it’s my biggest, and my problem, because of my context. Your biggest problem, it’s your biggest, and your problem, because of your context. The context isn’t written by society, society just gives you the topic, so to speak. Observing others I became confident of being unconfident. I realised it’s normal to be afraid, to feel less than others, to feel you don’t fill the expectations… to feel you lack what you were always told you shouldn’t be lacking. And understanding that being afraid it’s right, you can then accept the fear, therefore you can face it instead of running away from it. 

With 18 years old, my biggest goal in life was to find a girlfriend. At first I though it was because I was seeking love, but it was more of a ‘trying to look normal’ into the society. I used to believe a love relationship was pure success, that if I could get a girl by my side, I would be successful, because that’s what I used to consume daily for 8 years in television, fanatic of soap operas, which doesn’t sell anything else than that. That was my roof. The most silly one. And then, later, when I could finally get close to having a relationship, yet my roof kept threatening everything with her, therefore I lost her… but that’s another story.

With 24, I don’t have a goal at all. And I think, that is it.
Not having a goal but working hard on yourself…
Not having a goal but a job… any, wherever.
Not having a goal but doing something, being useful somewhere.
Not having a goal but assuming the most fearful challenges…
Not having a goal but being responsible and accurate…
Not having a goal but controlling excessive emotionalism… 
Not having a goal but detaching myself from people, not erasing the esteem…
Not having a goal but planning how to base what will soon be the future…

My life was ruled by how things should be, not by how I wanted them to be, I simply didn’t know how did I wanted them to be. There it’s the limbo, the dangerous gap between reality and fantasy, because most of the time, the way we want life to be, it’s the way we were told it should be. 

It’s just a process of unveiling big truths. Back in 2012 for instance, my parents came to visit me in the country I was studying, and seeing my messy place, my messy way of living, they told me “to get somewhere you have to be organized”… today I’ve gotten somewhere, I've travelled, I am working for a very big company, not asking them a penny… and I am still living very messily. 

Nothing it’s written, fear it’s a wall that can literally be jumped…
Jump by jump I knew who I wanted to be in bed with. 
Jump by jump I was great at something I thought I wasn’t good at. 
Jump by jump… I learnt. I was useful. I earned some money. 

I kept away unwanted energies from others.
I saw my talents. I tamed them.
I could defend my ideas, literally I found my identity. 

I had to leave my country six years ago to motivate myself. 
Which I did, in the most unexpected way.

I motivated myself with every step I took. Every thing I have done, up to this point, have been an exercise for my problems. I already figured myself out, now the challenge is… to figure life out. Real life, the one that shows me that if by 40 I haven’t got a house, where will I die at my 80s?.

Life should just be, getting away from what you’re told it should be. 


Now… more exercises to come. 

Monday, January 23, 2017

On how I did earn the English language...

1. Connect with yourself, find a mobile.

I had to learn English because I moved to study degree in a different country, which din't speak Spanish at all. I arrived to Malaysia knowing in English only how to introduce myself, and when I saw the path ahead, I panicked and I thought "I will never learn"

I started the English course from level 4 after passing the introductory exam... I did not know how did I actually ended up in a 4th level, but well, there I was, frequently lost in class. I never thought on learning English because I never saw the need on speaking other language, but when you can't speak, you can't be yourself, and I was craving to. In the class I always wanted to participate, but I was too shy, and whenever there was a group of classmates talking I wanted to be there, make jokes, what a normal David will do.

I couldn't easily find myself within this -by then- weird language, but in Spanish I was always outspoken, I loved talking and making jokes, expression was my north. In that urgency for being myself, I found a mobile to learn; I needed to speak English in order to interact with people the same way I used to in my original language. 

2. Force English into your life, connect with someone.

My Spanish speaker friend played an important role back in the days... she used to hang out with middle eastern people and I used to spend most of my time with them. There I was forced to speak English. Of course, the stress was always around, most of the time I was lost in the conversation, but that was also, at times, funny... I liked them, the energy there was, and that made me try speaking. Important; when there is no common language with others vibes is all that matters, so find the right vibes. I know how awful it feels to be missing a lot of stuff in a conversation, but I tell you, those are experiences one will never live again when dominating the language.

3. Change your mindset of expression and do not translate.

Later I started realising it's not only the understanding the language roughly, but learning the ways of expression in English. I will never forget how literal English used to be, maybe because Spanish it's always literal, we don't have that much of shortcuts. I will never forget, once someone asked me "So... how do you find Malaysia?", and, if you translate that to Spanish, it's as literal as it gets. Thinking on how "did I knew about it" I told him; "From a friend of mine"... so he emphasized "how do you find it?"... and I started thinking in Google Maps. In Spanish we will directly use "Do you like Malaysia?", because the 'finding' will rather be used as "How do you find yourself? (How are you feeling?)".

From there I became aware of the fact that I also had to modify the way of thinking, the way of using the language... and it was when I started realising as well that translating was not an option. I used to go to classes, but on a first level, 4 weeks weren't much of help for speaking. I was paying attention to grammar, but it was always confuse... I couldn't get the simplest things like "have/has", the "been", or how to use "than" or "as". I do remember what I got first, the adding 'er' or 'st', and I remember I loved it because it was pure shortcut. I used to have an exam every end of the month, and I remember I used to write a lot in the last sections which were the free essays. Despite the poor usage of the language, I had inside the need for expressing an idea, or a sentiment... so little by little, on those exams, I was less stressed by the fact of not knowing how to write but by the fact of how do I express my ideas clearly. So I transferred the stress from "how do I say...?" to "I wanna say...".

4. Listen carefully to people.

Within the process, I started listening the people more carefully, I used to 'hunt' how they utilized the grammar, comparing that with whatever I was seeing in class. My brain started doing connections, becoming a matter of language epiphanies; listening and thinking "Oh... that's what we were talking about in class two weeks ago" ...a particular sentence in the other used to turn on some lights in my brain... so I was learning after all. I think 70% of the rest happens unconsciously... the brain begins to make so many associations that you lost track, and eventually your discourse earns it automatically. 

5. Discuss topics that requires not language but analysis.

I achieved my primary goal of expressing myself after year and a half or so. I remember the first time I felt comfortable enough to write something in English. It was precisely my impetus for complaining. Actually, for beginners, that's what I would recommend, to look for 'confrontations', to share point of views about topics or issues that requires not language but analysis, the being critical about something, because those states of mind give us imminent need of expression. You'll stop thinking in the language and you will concentrate on making your point. My first stage was interacting with people, my second was defending my ideas... and when you realise your ideas can be displayed universally when using English, you'll feel like having a linguistic passport with free -oratory- visa to anywhere. 

6. Also, be creative.

I actually started polishing my English when flirting, the more advance the English of the girls I liked were, the more I had to come with a better word arrangement. Later on I started writing poetry -a poor one, don't believe I already manage the language-, but I always wrote beautiful stuff in Spanish and I wanted my English to flourish that way. I now believe that my English poems are more creativity than language, so I've realised, you also have to be creative, because the time will come in which you want to express yourself more clearly and profoundly; that happened when you feel you don't need to learn anything else because you're already writing and talking well. So you have to create, to build... I have my sources of synonymous and antonyms, my trusted dictionary, and I always write trying to use new words and expressions which eventually get stick in the mind to use them later. And at times, even finding a meaning for a word I did not know, I copy the word on Google and I read the articles or webs which are using the word to make sure how it is used commonly. You can use words or expressions you don't even know how to use just now, but eventually they'll be beneficial; you can seduce someone, you can get the job you want, you can make your point in class!.

7. Read later, much later.

To read it's crucial, but in my experience I won't suggest it from the very beginning... I used to find so many words and expressions my brain couldn't process that I used to give up every two paragraphs. Later, much later, I came back to the books, when I already had the basement built. And then yes, that tremendously helps to polish and growth the English. Something I must mention, I don't know how to explain the grammatical aspect, neither in English nor Spanish. But I know how things works, and that's all you need to dominate a language -unless of course you want to be a translator or you need to pass the exams-. Some people might memorise, some others, which is my case, memorise without the conscious intention of memorising. It's almost like a wordless concept on the inside of the brain... you can't see its code, but it's there. I never learnt anything by the book... it frustrated me.

8. Be frustrated and lose your patience from time to time!

So, if you still can't speak English, and you're one of those who feels like you'll never learn, I envy you, because you have a wonderful path ahead, a path that will never be back :) ...you'll see how gracious it feels when you can fully use it, also you'll realise it's deeper that one thinks... your personality plays a massive role, and you'll eventually be different when having two languages. I tell you, be frustrated and lose your patience from time to time! That's how it works.

Monday, January 9, 2017

An idea of climate change.

Why is it the media so alarmed because Donald Trump does not care about climate change? Since when are they so comitted to this subject anyways?
I have an idea of climate change; I love aviation... but, you know what truly kills our atmosphere beyond our companies on the ground? The engines on the aircrafts.
Since 1999, CO2 emissions from international aviation have increased 83 per cent. This accounts for 4 to 9 % of the total climate change impact of human activity. This won't change, because it sustain a chain of unstoppable monsters.

I'll give an example to get worry about;
In this moment of apogee for saving the planet, in this times in which the magnifying glass is being used everywhere to spot where the environment it's threatened, Airbus and Boeing -leaders in the aviation industry-, have only concentrated on developing aircrafts that reduce fuel consumptions for the airlines.
Paradoxically, although airlines want to pay less for fuel, a part of the industry survives from the companies that sell the fuel... Shell for instance, provides not just fuel, but engines! Statistics provided by Boeing says that since 1959 until 2015 there were 713 million flights. And, just to imagine the monopolistic environment, 506 millions of the 713 were from Boeing!
Billions of dollars among very few. The monopoly just provide us a clear image of how comfortable it's the investment in what it's killing us instead of investments for the urgent change of aviation.
Why do you think the working on aircrafts capables of not damaging the atmosphere it's so impossible? let's not believe it is because we don't have the current technologies! 
On average, there is 100,000 flights per day. Can you imagine how many Roll Roys or General Electric engines are in the air right now? (just to name few), can you imagine how much fuel Exxon or BP are selling there? Do you think they will ever stop such fountain of capital to experiment on new ways of flying?
Without fuel, what airlines will over charge us for?
Tell yourself a truth, when such power, which year by year growth more massively, affects in such way the global warming, what can you do? We must first unveil the realities in order to make a change. Media, don't come to me with the tale of planting a tree and recycling... do some proper journalism and wake the world up if you truly want! 
I say... let's wake up first.

Thursday, September 22, 2016

On why I became a photographer...

I am not sure. It was an accident. 

When I was 15 years old, rummaging my grandfather’s library I found a Lumix camera from the 50’s, with a variable collection of lenses, crystal lenses, a Super 8 camera and a more modern Sony video camera, from the 80’s. Nobody in my family ever told me about my grandpa’s hobby, probably because nobody understood its value. I never got to meet him, but on the films he had there, whenever I hold them against the light, I could just see beautiful frames. For instance he had some pictures from a very famous place in my hometown, a chain of waterfalls of brownish stones. I was there thousand times, but the frames in my grandfather’s films seemed unreal, as I didn’t know that place. He captured not only water, but the trees around, and the birds, I will never forget how significant the frames of the birds against the overexposed sky were to me. 

Much later in my life I started studying film and consequently my parents got me a DSLR. With the years using it, just recently I found a passion on this artefact that freezes time and capture moments. Just now I understand why my grandpa loved it. It’s quite unique the lonesome feeling that a camera gives you. The solitude has a purpose, the solitude articulates and materialised itself. you can be surrounded by people, yet if you have one eye closed, and one open on the frame window, you are truly alone, seeing the world through a tiny dark room… seeing it all from your own unique perspective. Sometimes it’s just a matter of walking somewhere, looking up, and be seduced by how two buildings build symmetry, so with the camera you capture those lines that can exist only in the place you step and within the frame you measure. With a camera, life becomes a universe itself, you exist on a specific place, and from your point of view each picture you capture it’s as you were capturing a star on the firmament, from start to start there is just empty space, as there is from frame to frame, on your immediate firmament. Sometimes it’s just a matter of immortalising a sunset or sunrise, which will only exist few hours a day. With photography ‘existence’ earns a meaning, you are constantly capturing what exists, in that precise moment, in that precise place. It won’t be repeated, ever again, however you captured it. I spend an amazing amount of time capturing the sky, I have seen thousand clouds, they will never repeat themselves, they will vanish within hours… but they can be in a frame and they can exist forever.

I guess for my grandpa photography had the value of being something entirely for himself. He was a business man, a merchant, he used to spend most of his time travelling around the country, away from home, and photography it’s something that accompanies you, in so many ways, the world it’s constantly talking to you, not just people, the sky, the birds, an old woman, a child, a trash can… photography it’s the art of appreciation, and a camera the tool to capture the moments you feel privileged. It becomes the healthiest addiction, you day to day decisions on how you want to understand the environment that surrounded you, and if you put a thought on your frame, it becomes your day to day metaphor’s printer, and you’ll never forget that thought.

I say it was an accident, because when I got a camera I never though of its power, not only for who is audience, but for oneself, because whenever you capture something in front of the camera, you’re also capturing who’s behind, who you were when you took that picture. Therefore, since I saw the pictures of my grandpa, I could know who he was, while my family always portrayed  him as the most strict person on earth… on his pictures, he was a disarmed free man. I am glad I have a camera, it’s one of the greatest things of my life. I was always an observant of details around me, and the camera gives me the perfect excuse to capture them.