When I was sitting in a cubicle, staring at Salesforce screens and eating "morale-boosting" office pizza, it hit me: I was living someone else's version of success. I wasn't climbing a ladder I believed in—I was running on a treadmill. Working hard to only find myself in the same place at the end of each day. The thought of living the same day for decades, chasing promotions in a system I didn't even want to belong to, scared me more than failing at something new ever could.

So, I made a choice. I sold everything, bought a camera, and bet on myself. There was no plan, just a purpose: to capture the beauty of the world's most remote places and live a life that felt true. Trading my safety net for a suitcase was terrifying, but also exhilarating. My camera became my compass, guiding me into a life I'd only dreamed about.

This leap didn't just change my career—it transformed my identity. Through the lens, I began to see the world differently, discovering beauty in simplicity and freedom in uncertainty. This decision taught me that success isn't about following someone else's map; it's about creating your own.

Terra Nova series is a reminder of how incredible—and fragile—our planet really is. I have photographed places like Lençóis Maranhenses in northern Brazil, where spring rains from the Amazon turn endless white dunes into shimmering lagoons and islands.

But this series isn't just about showcasing exotic places It's about starting a conversation. When people see Terra Nova works, I want them to feel two things: intrigue at what they're looking at and a sense of responsibility to go out and see the world themselves.

My work is rooted in hope. It's my way of showing that even in a world that's constantly changing, there's still resilience and beauty worth protecting. If I can inspire others to go out and develop better connections to nature, those discoveries can spark change—change that fuels new ideas that can shape a better tomorrow.

Challenges are the constant travel: extreme isolation, unforgiving climates, wildly unpredictable weather that oftentimes ruins months of planning and tens of thousands of dollars down the drain, and the pressure of documenting places that might vanish within days or years.. It makes others question the purpose—why even bother?

But these struggles fade against the reward of witnessing the extraordinary. For me, being an artist isn't about being seen; it's about seeing the world and sharing the journey with others keeps me going when life on the road gets rough.

One moment I'll never forget? Flying a drone over the flooded Australian Outback in 2022. Historic rainfall—levels unseen in a century—turned the grasslands into a surreal mosaic of pink, greens, and oranges. As the drone rose into the air, I felt a full-body shiver, overwhelmed by the privilege of seeing something so rare. It's moments like that when you understand: even after the harshest times, life continues on.

One image that always stays with me is The Giving Tree. It captures how water carves its story into the sand over and over, reshaping the dunes into something new every year. No two years are ever the same, and that fleeting beauty is part of what makes it so special.

For me, this image is all about resilience. It reminds me that change isn't the end of something—it's transformation. Water shows us that even the most solid, unyielding forms can evolve, and that with just a little bit of it, life can begin again. It's a lesson I carry with me in my own life and work: embrace change, because it's how new possibilities take shape.

That's a great question! I've always believed that photography shouldn't be something forgotten on a wall—it should make a lasting impact. For me, life isn't about chasing money; if it were, I wouldn't have chosen to be an artist. My career is about living a meaningful and extraordinary life, and a big part of living meaningful is giving back.

Proceeds from my collections have supported conservation projects worldwide. This year, sales funded a documentary expedition to uncover the story of one of the planet's most elusive creatures. It's a project we'll be sharing with schools, educational programs, and a masterclass to inspire the next generation. Another example? My recent collection of 54 1/1s, which completely sold out, helped combat deforestation by funding tree-planting efforts through One Tree—a cause close to my heart, especially given what I've witnessed firsthand on my travels.

Every location I visit has its own story. Through the photos I create and sell, I can share those stories while generating the funds needed to support the next chapter. My photography is about more than capturing beautiful images—it's about creating a ripple effect where each frame contributes to the future of our planet, one chapter at a time.

For me, the exclusivity of my work goes beyond aesthetics—it's rooted in the story behind each image. These aren't places you stumble upon casually; they're remote, untamed, and often fleeting. Many of the moments I capture—like the shimmering lagoons of Lençóis Maranhenses or the surreal hues of a flooded Australian Outback—are shaped by nature in ways that can't be replicated. They're here one season and gone the next, and in some cases, they may never come back at all.

For collectors, this exclusivity adds layers of meaning. Each photograph is not just a piece of art; it's a testament to the resilience and beauty of a world that's rapidly changing. Owning one of these images means preserving a moment that very few people have witnessed, a glimpse into places that are increasingly inaccessible and at risk of disappearing altogether.

There's also the rarity of photography itself, especially in the digital art space. In a world dominated by AI-generated images and quick, disposable visuals, my work stands apart as something real, tangible, and intentional. It reflects not just the landscape, but the effort, passion, and dedication of weeks of hard work it takes to get there. For collectors, I think that makes each piece feel personal—it's not just about owning art; it's about becoming part of a story that's bigger than any one of us.

Ultimately, my hope is that these photographs inspire both wonder and responsibility. By connecting collectors to these rare and irreplaceable places, I want to remind them—and myself—of the importance of preserving what we can and cherishing what we still have.

Digital art has an incredible power to break down barriers, making it more accessible to audiences all over the world. At the same time, physical art offers a tactile connection—a sense of presence and intimacy that digital experiences can't replicate. Platforms like NINFA are where these two worlds meet, blending the accessibility of digital art with the authenticity and permanence that collectors value.

For an artist like me, it's the perfect balance. NINFA allows me to share my work with a global audience while ensuring that each piece remains genuine and connected to its story. Whether someone views my photos on a screen or experiences it in real life, my goal is always the same: to spark conversations, to evoke curiosity, and to create a lasting emotional connection between the viewer and the natural world.

Art, for me, isn't bound by format or platform—it's about the impact it leaves behind. Platforms like NINFA help bridge that gap and help me communicate those stories, allowing collectors to engage with my pictures while preserving the integrity of what makes each piece unique.

Being sponsored and promoted by TIMEPieces and HUG has been a dream come true. These platforms introduced me to a global community of innovators and opportunities —people who aren't just artists but also visionaries who inspired me to think bigger and push harder in my career. The connections I've made through these collaborations have had a profound impact on how I approach the business side of being an Artist.

Two standout moments for me were speaking at NFC Lisbon and NFT Tallinn. Standing on those stages, sharing my journey, and seeing how art connects people from all walks of life was incredibly powerful. Those experiences reinforced for me that art is more than an image or an object—it's a bridge, a way to tell stories that resonate universally.

These opportunities didn't just give me visibility; they pushed me to refine my voice as a photographer. They reminded me that at its core, art is storytelling. Whether it's through an image, Twitter posts, or a global community, it's about creating something that connects and leaves an impact.

Web3 isn't just a marketplace—it's a social revolution on how we experience technology, making it more interactive and dynamic. I've seen photographers and artists from all levels embrace storytelling in ways that bring their communities closer, and I love how it's transforming the way we share and connect through art.

For me, this journey is about more than just growing my photography career. It's also about mentoring other artists—helping them cut through the noise and distractions to build a life that truly works for them and their art. I have a motto: The Art of Living, Boldly. To me, it means that success belongs to those who feel the fear but choose to commit to their art anyway.

I understand how challenging it is to rely on art for income, especially online. I've lived that struggle. That's why I'm passionate about helping others break free from outdated systems that often fail creatives. My goal is to help artists find their own voice and create a life that's not only authentic to who they are but also leads to real success—on their own terms.

I'm planning to explore places like Kyrgyzstan, Greenland, and Socotra—places that have more risk to them, but where nature's stories are still raw, untamed, and waiting to be told. These landscapes feel alive with history, shaped by time and elements in ways that remind me how interconnected we are with the Earth. For me, Terra Nova isn't just a collection—it's a living, evolving narrative on new earth. It's a series that follows the moments that have changed me as I travel, and I imagine it might take a lifetime to truly complete.

Thematically, Terra Nova explores metamorphosis—the way water shapes the world and, in turn, shapes us. Water is a force of change, resilience, and renewal, and I find it deeply symbolic of the transformations we experience as humans. Whether it's carving rivers into mountains or sustaining life in the harshest deserts, water teaches us that change is necessary for growth, and that's a lesson I try to reflect in my art.

On a technical level, I'm always pushing myself to innovate. Lately, I've been experimenting with blending handheld shots and drone aerials. It's about finding new ways to capture the Earth's beauty—angles that haven't been seen, layers that haven't been uncovered. Shots that make people wonder what they are looking at in a whole different light.

Craftsmanship is at the core of my photography efforts. While anyone can spend time creating something, true artistry lies in the refinement, taste, and skill that bring a concept to life as a fully realized piece. Every photograph I take is the result of countless decisions preparing and organizing—plans that often go out the window once on location—all of which require a level of precision that transcends labor. While my art often begins with a dream or concept, it's in the journey and execution where it truly becomes alive. The blending of handheld shots and drone aerials, for example, isn't just about showing a scene from new angles; it's about ensuring every detail supports the story I want to tell.

Looking ahead, I see Terra Nova as more than just a photographic journey. Eventually, I want to expand into film-based art, creating immersive experiences that go beyond the frame to spark deeper impact.

Photography has the power to connect people, challenge perspectives, and even drive change, and I want to lean into that. Whether it's supporting conservation efforts, educating future generations, or simply inspiring someone to see the world differently, I believe photography can—and should—be a force for good.