Indiana, March 2023.
The Indiana Dunes, I
in photographs
I missed this
in journal
It had been a while! I finally drove somewhere for photography, and it felt amazing. I got to spend a few hours at Lake Michigan, photographing the beautiful sand dunes of Indiana Dunes National Park.
Night walk
in photographs
Chicago, December 2022.
From the video Photographing a blizzard in Chicago.
Moon over Broken Top
in photographs
Oregon, August 2016.
I can't believe it's been almost seven years since I took this photo. One of those special places that ignited my passion for photography.
Window light
in photographs
Italy, November 2019.
Semiahmoo
in photographs
A beautiful morning in Washington. October 2020.
It's a small world
in photographs
New York, September 2019.
One image at a time
in journal
Creating a meaningful body of work takes time -- a lot of time. We need to be patient, believe in yourselves, and keep looking for images everywhere, everyday.
Remember that photography is a long term game, something we need to do as often as possible. Because even the tiniest contributions add up.
Mountain view
in photographs
Norway, October 2022.
Blizzard flying
in photographs
Chicago, December 2022.
From the video Photographing a blizzard in Chicago.
On the path
in photographs
Galicia, January 2019.
From my new book Memorias na neboa.
A dance of trees, VI
in photographs
Madeira, November 2021.
If it feels right, shoot it
in journal
I've been working on some old photos. I just got to the ones I made in the magical forest of Fanal, in Madeira. It's been more than a year and a half since then, and I still get goosebumps when I see those images show up on my laptop.
Even though going through so many photographs takes quite some time, I really appreciate the fact that I took that many. Take the ones above as an example: the same composition, captured several times with just slight variations.
While always important, this is even more relevant when there is an interplay between the subject and other elements, or when there are two or more subjects (like in these images, you could argue).
All of the photos above could've worked just fine, as they all captured what I saw there. Two stunning trees entangled in a beautiful dance. The small variations I captured here don't make that much of a difference and yet, I always find one or two that I like more the rest, for whatever reason.
That's why I find it so important to take multiple shots of the same composition, with tiny variations. It can be very hard to decide which one is the best one in the field, especially when the conditions are changing by the second (like they do in Fanal).
As I usually say, if it feels right, shoot it. Make the call later.
Memories of Norway
in photographs
Norway, September 2022.
Announcing my new book, "Memorias na néboa"
in journal
I'm so excited to announce my new book, "Memorias na néboa" (that's galician, it means "Memories in the fog"). A collection of over 100 images made in and around my hometown.
I'm very proud of this volume, the result of years of work and hundreds of walks with my camera in hand.
Whispers from the past
in photographs
Madeira, November 2021.
From the video Photographing the magical forest of Fanal, in Madeira.
White morning in town
in photographs
Indiana, March 2023.
Winter storm at the golf course, VII
in photographs
The journey is full of doubts
in journal
“You can’t connect the dots looking forward; you can only connect them looking backwards. So you have to trust that the dots will somehow connect in your future” - Steve Jobs
Unlike many other photographers, I don't have a specific mission to accomplish with my work. No bosses, no clients, no guidance of any kind. I have no idea what I will be photographing next week, let alone in 5 years.
With this incredible flexibility comes a huge amount of doubt: where to go, what to photograph, where to share it, which camera I should use. It's all to me, and it can be a heavy burden at times, as I second-guess myself very often. Did I make the right call?
It's hard to see the path when it's being carved right after you. Only when I look back (contact sheets are great for that) I see it clearly. It's not a straight path but a very windy one, with plenty of detours and diversions. But it's a path.
I don't know here it will lead me, if anywhere at all. All I can do is to have some faith, to embrace the unknown of what lies ahead, and keep pushing.
In the end, it will all make sense. Or so we hope.
Rocks of Oregon
in photographs
Oregon, September 2020.