This need to understand life from a different perspective came as a consequence of the painful realization that I wasn’t feeling comfortable with the way I was living. I often saw myself feeling irritated, insecure, and constantly in search of external validation. Art has helped me become a more conscious human being, and through it, new questions and understandings have come to light.

Still, this wasn’t just about creating more intentional art. It was about learning how to live a more intentional and peaceful life from the inside.

When I moved to the north of Spain on my own, I had to let go of many of my past beliefs, my family, and friends, and start searching on my own what it truly meant to live a peaceful life, and how we have slowly left behind and not payed attention to in our day to day lives in this society. What began as a decision to live in a specific place slowly became an understanding that it’s not only about the physical space you inhabit, but about how at peace you feel within. Because yes, a landscape or environment can be beautiful, but how you see it and feel in it depends on how present and at peace with the present moment you are.

Over time, I’ve come to understand how deeply my story has shaped not just who I am, but also the way I create. Growing up in Venezuela and then moving to Spain at 18 years old changed everything for me. It opened my mind. Facing uncertainty and a profound identity shift at such a young age brought with it a kind of silent grief I see now. Emigrating for me meant a mourning not only for a version of myself, but for the life, culture, and family I left behind.

That experience forced me to look at things differently. It made me confront my own beliefs and question what I once thought was certain. At first, it was unsettling to realize how many ways there are to live, but that discomfort turned into something powerful: curiosity. The type of curiosity that you constantly felt as a child, and this has moved me than anything in life.

I feel a constant need to question, to explore, to learn, to accept, and most of all, to experiment. That desire to experiment, to understand life in all its layers, has become the foundation of how I approach art. My goal is to always remain curious in finding ways to express myself, and this also shapes the way I photograph and explore sensitivities in the world.

I’ve always been deeply mesmerized by the landscapes in the north. They feel raw and unpredictable. There’s a powerful presence in the weather and in the way the land is shaped, it’s almost impossible not to be moved by it.

This collection was created in the space between that unpredictability and my own intention. Some locations and images were carefully planned, while others emerged from chance, intuition, and what the moment offered. I believe not only this collection but life is built between those two concepts, as you can plan everything and yet control almost nothing.

Absolutely. Each image in this story carries its own memory. One of the most meaningful to me is the piece called Impermanence. I took it in a field near Liérganes while watching the sunset change the landscape with every passing second. Back home, I decided to craft a movement to the clouds, trying to capture that feeling of time never standing still in the image.

While working on it, I kept thinking and coming to terms about how we often live as if time were infinite. We hold on to things, believing they will last: relationships, routines, even emotions. But everything changes. Everything fades.

That is the paradox I wanted to explore. Everything around us can be fleeting yet meaningful. Maybe it is because things do not last that they matter so much. This photograph is a reminder of that. That nothing stays, and that is exactly why it is worth paying attention.

I remember asking myself this question multiple times during my time there. At first, I felt the need to understand how life in nature and in the countryside helps you feel more grounded and appreciative compared to the fast and demanding rhythm our society and chaotic cities make us feel. But then I realized that the meaning of what a quiet life can be is rooted not only in where you live but mostly in how you choose to live.

Carlos gave me an incredible answer about this. He said that, to him, living a quiet life meant "tener la consciencia tranquila." In his words, that meant being at peace with oneself comes from being at peace with your conscience and actions.

Now I truly relate to him. I found that running away from the noise and chaos can bring a sense of peace, yes. But in the long run, what we really need is to be present, accountable, and empathetic toward ourselves and others in order to live a quiet life.

Most of the post-production of the images and videos in this collection followed that melancholic and painterly atmosphere I’m always drawn to. I naturally gravitated toward muted tones, almost without thinking, because the feeling of nostalgia was always present while I explored the region.

I had conversations with some of my family members who live in the north, as well as with local people who told me stories about my grandmother. I found many of her photographs, and I noticed a strong emotional pattern tied to the colors in those images. That connection stayed with me and naturally made its way into the work.

The unpredictability of the weather made me rely on instinct in many moments, but in the end, the process felt like a dance between instinct and intention. One would guide the other, and together they shaped the atmosphere I wanted to express. The aesthetic then became a clear inspiration of what I felt from my grandmother, my own personal transformation and the nostalgic photos I found of her and mine as a child along the way.

I have always been a very sensitive person, always connected to my emotions and introspecting a lot about them. This trait is part of both the process in which I decide to take a photo, composing elements that help me shape an inside story better, and then, for example, while choosing the color gradings I want to specifically bring out. My intention is to tie every little detail together to bring out a specific feeling through the atmosphere, color, and composition.

By finding myself creating this way, I have realized it has become my own personal meditation, where I feel more connected to myself and what I go through. In a way, my creative process made me discover that I am capable of feeling intense emotions, but by expressing them in conscious ways, I do not let them completely rule my life, if that makes sense.

I felt her presence most strongly when I visited her town in Asturias. I have been there several times, but it was especially powerful during the visit I made to document it for this project. I wanted to carry her memory through all the scenes I captured in her town, and also in the piece titled Sentimentally Mine, which I shot in a field nearby.

I think art has a way of opening doors inside of us, and sometimes without us noticing why. What I truly hope is that these photographs and this project spark a sense of curiosity about the way we are currently living, about what we often leave behind without noticing. I want them to be an invitation to slow down, to reflect on how present we are in our daily lives. Because it’s only through presence that we truly create memories. Without it, life passes through us without leaving much behind.

To say this project has changed the trajectory of my life is an understatement. I now face my present and future with more calmness because I have made peace with and understood my past. I feel a strong connection and motivation to be a better person, not just for myself but also to help others. The most valuable lesson I took from living on my own in a place where I knew no one is that it made me appreciate my family, friends, and my own presence even more. I feel at peace knowing that even when I experience loneliness, sadness, anxiety, or any other difficult emotion, everything eventually passes and something new will come when we stop trying to control things. Learning how to stop resisting and how to find real connection with myself has been my biggest lesson.