Taking photos has become an important and driving act for me, but paradoxically, when my father offered me a camera at the age of twelve, it took me several years to think of it as something other than nice object of decoration.

Time passes before the interest of looking at life through an optical lens and capturing it for an instant does not appear to me, as if to discover that beyond the materials and the design of the apparatus, there where the objective restricts the view in a physical way, it opens and creates a new field of expression. To explain, we can sometimes feel an impression of loneliness surrounding, and isolate a still image in the midst of a constantly moving reality has emerged as one of the only ways to set my perception, to express and transcribe a vision of life as I go through it.

To popularize, I do not particularly like words and feel a mistrust of them, because they can as much open as partition the thought, that’s why I do not like to name or express myself when it comes of my images, because I’m not comfortable with directing or guiding them.

I consider the photos as testimony, the trace that at a moment, another eye stopped for an instant that they chose, to take the time to isolate it, to extract a fragment of a continuous line sometimes too fast, to prevail and to give it to observe.

Actuating the trigger is thus like affirming my perception of the moments, a way to look at a scene that I would have chosen; Where I stop for a moment, I can want (or want to be able to) train the other, offer them a story by setting them free. I like to browse space, to cross people, and this box is the easiest way I find to open the door to my imagination. To take a photo is to share my vertigo, to savor my loneliness, to express my small person in a way as free as that which guides me, because what is in me is unique and retains a secret aspect, like the why or the technique of a cliché.

I have many things to say to you, but as I do not want to make you hear it, I give it to you to see.