My Scholarship entry - Forgotten Healers
It’s 1999, 3 AM of a hot-dry August day. A trip that usually takes 3 hours is already taking 9. Click, zoon-in, click, aperture, click adjust shutter speed. Click, click click. I am 13 and I am wide-awake, sitting on the back of a Fiat older than me. My eyes sparkle as my father stops each km to shoot the stars, the empty-dark-villages, my sleeping mother and myself looking at him.It´s 2007, I´ve just moved across the Atlantic, I now live in Buenos Aires, my eyes still sparkle, now I hold that heavy Pentax. I walk until my vagabond shoes make my feet hurt. I click, click click until the day ends. I linger to capture another expression, another moment.It’s 2014 and I am now an engineer, since that transoceanic trip 7 earth translations ago, I have been roaming around our sphere.I have waked to the sound of elephant herds in the Okavango Delta, fished piranhas in the Amazon and climbed East-Timor peaks with guerrilla-man.Photography has become part of me, a way of telling my stories and the stories of those I meet. Capturing moments behind the lens has become an addiction and the opportunity of assisting Jason and learning from him is the last border between dreaming and reality.
Where I've been
My trip journals
