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Quedan dos semanas para visitar el @kranjfotofest en Eslovenia. Mi exposición se encuentra en el segundo piso de la Layer House.

Gratitud enorme a @laure_tell, de @leica_camera_austria, por su profunda sensibilidad al curar esta exposición. Gracias a @pradofernanda, @breznikmark y a todas las personas del equipo del festival por la gestión y ejecución. Ha sido una experiencia hermosa.
—
Two weeks left to visit the Kranj Foto Festival in Slovenia. My exhibition is located on the second floor of the Layer House.

Deep gratitude to Laura Ettel from Leica Camera Austria for her profound sensitivity in curating this exhibition. Thanks to Fernanda Prado Verčič, Mark Breznik and to everyone on the festival team, for their coordination and execution. It has been a beautiful experience.

Photos 4, 6, 8, 11 by Maša Pirc / Kranj Foto Fest.
Photo 5 and 13 by Laure Ettel.

Quedan dos semanas para visitar el @kranjfotofest en Eslovenia. Mi exposición se encuentra en el segundo piso de la Layer House.

Gratitud enorme a @laure_tell, de @leica_camera_austria, por su profunda sensibilidad al curar esta exposición. Gracias a @pradofernanda, @breznikmark y a todas las personas del equipo del festival por la gestión y ejecución. Ha sido una experiencia hermosa.
—
Two weeks left to visit the Kranj Foto Festival in Slovenia. My exhibition is located on the second floor of the Layer House.

Deep gratitude to Laura Ettel from Leica Camera Austria for her profound sensitivity in curating this exhibition. Thanks to Fernanda Prado Verčič, Mark Breznik and to everyone on the festival team, for their coordination and execution. It has been a beautiful experience.

Photos 4, 6, 8, 11 by Maša Pirc / Kranj Foto Fest.
Photo 5 and 13 by Laure Ettel.

Quedan dos semanas para visitar el @kranjfotofest en Eslovenia. Mi exposición se encuentra en el segundo piso de la Layer House.

Gratitud enorme a @laure_tell, de @leica_camera_austria, por su profunda sensibilidad al curar esta exposición. Gracias a @pradofernanda, @breznikmark y a todas las personas del equipo del festival por la gestión y ejecución. Ha sido una experiencia hermosa.
—
Two weeks left to visit the Kranj Foto Festival in Slovenia. My exhibition is located on the second floor of the Layer House.

Deep gratitude to Laura Ettel from Leica Camera Austria for her profound sensitivity in curating this exhibition. Thanks to Fernanda Prado Verčič, Mark Breznik and to everyone on the festival team, for their coordination and execution. It has been a beautiful experience.

Photos 4, 6, 8, 11 by Maša Pirc / Kranj Foto Fest.
Photo 5 and 13 by Laure Ettel.

Quedan dos semanas para visitar el @kranjfotofest en Eslovenia. Mi exposición se encuentra en el segundo piso de la Layer House.

Gratitud enorme a @laure_tell, de @leica_camera_austria, por su profunda sensibilidad al curar esta exposición. Gracias a @pradofernanda, @breznikmark y a todas las personas del equipo del festival por la gestión y ejecución. Ha sido una experiencia hermosa.
—
Two weeks left to visit the Kranj Foto Festival in Slovenia. My exhibition is located on the second floor of the Layer House.

Deep gratitude to Laura Ettel from Leica Camera Austria for her profound sensitivity in curating this exhibition. Thanks to Fernanda Prado Verčič, Mark Breznik and to everyone on the festival team, for their coordination and execution. It has been a beautiful experience.

Photos 4, 6, 8, 11 by Maša Pirc / Kranj Foto Fest.
Photo 5 and 13 by Laure Ettel.

Quedan dos semanas para visitar el @kranjfotofest en Eslovenia. Mi exposición se encuentra en el segundo piso de la Layer House.

Gratitud enorme a @laure_tell, de @leica_camera_austria, por su profunda sensibilidad al curar esta exposición. Gracias a @pradofernanda, @breznikmark y a todas las personas del equipo del festival por la gestión y ejecución. Ha sido una experiencia hermosa.
—
Two weeks left to visit the Kranj Foto Festival in Slovenia. My exhibition is located on the second floor of the Layer House.

Deep gratitude to Laura Ettel from Leica Camera Austria for her profound sensitivity in curating this exhibition. Thanks to Fernanda Prado Verčič, Mark Breznik and to everyone on the festival team, for their coordination and execution. It has been a beautiful experience.

Photos 4, 6, 8, 11 by Maša Pirc / Kranj Foto Fest.
Photo 5 and 13 by Laure Ettel.

Quedan dos semanas para visitar el @kranjfotofest en Eslovenia. Mi exposición se encuentra en el segundo piso de la Layer House.

Gratitud enorme a @laure_tell, de @leica_camera_austria, por su profunda sensibilidad al curar esta exposición. Gracias a @pradofernanda, @breznikmark y a todas las personas del equipo del festival por la gestión y ejecución. Ha sido una experiencia hermosa.
—
Two weeks left to visit the Kranj Foto Festival in Slovenia. My exhibition is located on the second floor of the Layer House.

Deep gratitude to Laura Ettel from Leica Camera Austria for her profound sensitivity in curating this exhibition. Thanks to Fernanda Prado Verčič, Mark Breznik and to everyone on the festival team, for their coordination and execution. It has been a beautiful experience.

Photos 4, 6, 8, 11 by Maša Pirc / Kranj Foto Fest.
Photo 5 and 13 by Laure Ettel.

Quedan dos semanas para visitar el @kranjfotofest en Eslovenia. Mi exposición se encuentra en el segundo piso de la Layer House.

Gratitud enorme a @laure_tell, de @leica_camera_austria, por su profunda sensibilidad al curar esta exposición. Gracias a @pradofernanda, @breznikmark y a todas las personas del equipo del festival por la gestión y ejecución. Ha sido una experiencia hermosa.
—
Two weeks left to visit the Kranj Foto Festival in Slovenia. My exhibition is located on the second floor of the Layer House.

Deep gratitude to Laura Ettel from Leica Camera Austria for her profound sensitivity in curating this exhibition. Thanks to Fernanda Prado Verčič, Mark Breznik and to everyone on the festival team, for their coordination and execution. It has been a beautiful experience.

Photos 4, 6, 8, 11 by Maša Pirc / Kranj Foto Fest.
Photo 5 and 13 by Laure Ettel.

Quedan dos semanas para visitar el @kranjfotofest en Eslovenia. Mi exposición se encuentra en el segundo piso de la Layer House.

Gratitud enorme a @laure_tell, de @leica_camera_austria, por su profunda sensibilidad al curar esta exposición. Gracias a @pradofernanda, @breznikmark y a todas las personas del equipo del festival por la gestión y ejecución. Ha sido una experiencia hermosa.
—
Two weeks left to visit the Kranj Foto Festival in Slovenia. My exhibition is located on the second floor of the Layer House.

Deep gratitude to Laura Ettel from Leica Camera Austria for her profound sensitivity in curating this exhibition. Thanks to Fernanda Prado Verčič, Mark Breznik and to everyone on the festival team, for their coordination and execution. It has been a beautiful experience.

Photos 4, 6, 8, 11 by Maša Pirc / Kranj Foto Fest.
Photo 5 and 13 by Laure Ettel.

Quedan dos semanas para visitar el @kranjfotofest en Eslovenia. Mi exposición se encuentra en el segundo piso de la Layer House.

Gratitud enorme a @laure_tell, de @leica_camera_austria, por su profunda sensibilidad al curar esta exposición. Gracias a @pradofernanda, @breznikmark y a todas las personas del equipo del festival por la gestión y ejecución. Ha sido una experiencia hermosa.
—
Two weeks left to visit the Kranj Foto Festival in Slovenia. My exhibition is located on the second floor of the Layer House.

Deep gratitude to Laura Ettel from Leica Camera Austria for her profound sensitivity in curating this exhibition. Thanks to Fernanda Prado Verčič, Mark Breznik and to everyone on the festival team, for their coordination and execution. It has been a beautiful experience.

Photos 4, 6, 8, 11 by Maša Pirc / Kranj Foto Fest.
Photo 5 and 13 by Laure Ettel.

Quedan dos semanas para visitar el @kranjfotofest en Eslovenia. Mi exposición se encuentra en el segundo piso de la Layer House.

Gratitud enorme a @laure_tell, de @leica_camera_austria, por su profunda sensibilidad al curar esta exposición. Gracias a @pradofernanda, @breznikmark y a todas las personas del equipo del festival por la gestión y ejecución. Ha sido una experiencia hermosa.
—
Two weeks left to visit the Kranj Foto Festival in Slovenia. My exhibition is located on the second floor of the Layer House.

Deep gratitude to Laura Ettel from Leica Camera Austria for her profound sensitivity in curating this exhibition. Thanks to Fernanda Prado Verčič, Mark Breznik and to everyone on the festival team, for their coordination and execution. It has been a beautiful experience.

Photos 4, 6, 8, 11 by Maša Pirc / Kranj Foto Fest.
Photo 5 and 13 by Laure Ettel.

Quedan dos semanas para visitar el @kranjfotofest en Eslovenia. Mi exposición se encuentra en el segundo piso de la Layer House.

Gratitud enorme a @laure_tell, de @leica_camera_austria, por su profunda sensibilidad al curar esta exposición. Gracias a @pradofernanda, @breznikmark y a todas las personas del equipo del festival por la gestión y ejecución. Ha sido una experiencia hermosa.
—
Two weeks left to visit the Kranj Foto Festival in Slovenia. My exhibition is located on the second floor of the Layer House.

Deep gratitude to Laura Ettel from Leica Camera Austria for her profound sensitivity in curating this exhibition. Thanks to Fernanda Prado Verčič, Mark Breznik and to everyone on the festival team, for their coordination and execution. It has been a beautiful experience.

Photos 4, 6, 8, 11 by Maša Pirc / Kranj Foto Fest.
Photo 5 and 13 by Laure Ettel.

Quedan dos semanas para visitar el @kranjfotofest en Eslovenia. Mi exposición se encuentra en el segundo piso de la Layer House.

Gratitud enorme a @laure_tell, de @leica_camera_austria, por su profunda sensibilidad al curar esta exposición. Gracias a @pradofernanda, @breznikmark y a todas las personas del equipo del festival por la gestión y ejecución. Ha sido una experiencia hermosa.
—
Two weeks left to visit the Kranj Foto Festival in Slovenia. My exhibition is located on the second floor of the Layer House.

Deep gratitude to Laura Ettel from Leica Camera Austria for her profound sensitivity in curating this exhibition. Thanks to Fernanda Prado Verčič, Mark Breznik and to everyone on the festival team, for their coordination and execution. It has been a beautiful experience.

Photos 4, 6, 8, 11 by Maša Pirc / Kranj Foto Fest.
Photo 5 and 13 by Laure Ettel.

Quedan dos semanas para visitar el @kranjfotofest en Eslovenia. Mi exposición se encuentra en el segundo piso de la Layer House.

Gratitud enorme a @laure_tell, de @leica_camera_austria, por su profunda sensibilidad al curar esta exposición. Gracias a @pradofernanda, @breznikmark y a todas las personas del equipo del festival por la gestión y ejecución. Ha sido una experiencia hermosa.
—
Two weeks left to visit the Kranj Foto Festival in Slovenia. My exhibition is located on the second floor of the Layer House.

Deep gratitude to Laura Ettel from Leica Camera Austria for her profound sensitivity in curating this exhibition. Thanks to Fernanda Prado Verčič, Mark Breznik and to everyone on the festival team, for their coordination and execution. It has been a beautiful experience.

Photos 4, 6, 8, 11 by Maša Pirc / Kranj Foto Fest.
Photo 5 and 13 by Laure Ettel.

Este año estuve pensando en los ciclos y en cómo, con el tiempo, nuestros cuerpos se traslapan en movimiento. Como dice Federici: “ser conscientes del significado de los espacios que habitamos y recordar el coste que tiene pisar el suelo que pisamos, cuyas historias están inscritas en las piedras, los campos… que nos rodean”.

Quedan dos días para visitar Evidence of Existence en @icp , donde puede verse mi primer acercamiento a pensar la labor de quien vivió en este país antes que yo: mi abuelo. Él emigró a Estados Unidos y trabajó aquí como jardinero.

Esta pieza es una manera de honrar los esfuerzos intergeneracionales en mi familia y de pensar las relaciones de poder que atraviesan esas historias; pero también, en medio del clima político actual de este país, de enunciar que, en buena medida, hoy estoy aquí gracias a un migrante.
~
This year I’ve been thinking about cycles, and about how, over time, our bodies overlap in movement. As Federici writes: “to become aware of the meaning of the spaces we inhabit and to remember the cost of walking on the ground we walk on, whose histories are inscribed in the stones, the fields… that surround us.”

There are two days left to visit Evidence of Existence at ICP, where my first attempt to reflect on the labor of the person who lived in this country before me can be seen: my grandfather. He emigrated to the United States and worked here as a gardener.

This piece is a way of honoring the intergenerational efforts within my family and of thinking through the power relations that run through those histories; but also, in the current political climate of this country, of stating that, to a great extent, I am here today thanks to a migrant.

Este año estuve pensando en los ciclos y en cómo, con el tiempo, nuestros cuerpos se traslapan en movimiento. Como dice Federici: “ser conscientes del significado de los espacios que habitamos y recordar el coste que tiene pisar el suelo que pisamos, cuyas historias están inscritas en las piedras, los campos… que nos rodean”.

Quedan dos días para visitar Evidence of Existence en @icp , donde puede verse mi primer acercamiento a pensar la labor de quien vivió en este país antes que yo: mi abuelo. Él emigró a Estados Unidos y trabajó aquí como jardinero.

Esta pieza es una manera de honrar los esfuerzos intergeneracionales en mi familia y de pensar las relaciones de poder que atraviesan esas historias; pero también, en medio del clima político actual de este país, de enunciar que, en buena medida, hoy estoy aquí gracias a un migrante.
~
This year I’ve been thinking about cycles, and about how, over time, our bodies overlap in movement. As Federici writes: “to become aware of the meaning of the spaces we inhabit and to remember the cost of walking on the ground we walk on, whose histories are inscribed in the stones, the fields… that surround us.”

There are two days left to visit Evidence of Existence at ICP, where my first attempt to reflect on the labor of the person who lived in this country before me can be seen: my grandfather. He emigrated to the United States and worked here as a gardener.

This piece is a way of honoring the intergenerational efforts within my family and of thinking through the power relations that run through those histories; but also, in the current political climate of this country, of stating that, to a great extent, I am here today thanks to a migrant.

Este año estuve pensando en los ciclos y en cómo, con el tiempo, nuestros cuerpos se traslapan en movimiento. Como dice Federici: “ser conscientes del significado de los espacios que habitamos y recordar el coste que tiene pisar el suelo que pisamos, cuyas historias están inscritas en las piedras, los campos… que nos rodean”.

Quedan dos días para visitar Evidence of Existence en @icp , donde puede verse mi primer acercamiento a pensar la labor de quien vivió en este país antes que yo: mi abuelo. Él emigró a Estados Unidos y trabajó aquí como jardinero.

Esta pieza es una manera de honrar los esfuerzos intergeneracionales en mi familia y de pensar las relaciones de poder que atraviesan esas historias; pero también, en medio del clima político actual de este país, de enunciar que, en buena medida, hoy estoy aquí gracias a un migrante.
~
This year I’ve been thinking about cycles, and about how, over time, our bodies overlap in movement. As Federici writes: “to become aware of the meaning of the spaces we inhabit and to remember the cost of walking on the ground we walk on, whose histories are inscribed in the stones, the fields… that surround us.”

There are two days left to visit Evidence of Existence at ICP, where my first attempt to reflect on the labor of the person who lived in this country before me can be seen: my grandfather. He emigrated to the United States and worked here as a gardener.

This piece is a way of honoring the intergenerational efforts within my family and of thinking through the power relations that run through those histories; but also, in the current political climate of this country, of stating that, to a great extent, I am here today thanks to a migrant.

Este año estuve pensando en los ciclos y en cómo, con el tiempo, nuestros cuerpos se traslapan en movimiento. Como dice Federici: “ser conscientes del significado de los espacios que habitamos y recordar el coste que tiene pisar el suelo que pisamos, cuyas historias están inscritas en las piedras, los campos… que nos rodean”.

Quedan dos días para visitar Evidence of Existence en @icp , donde puede verse mi primer acercamiento a pensar la labor de quien vivió en este país antes que yo: mi abuelo. Él emigró a Estados Unidos y trabajó aquí como jardinero.

Esta pieza es una manera de honrar los esfuerzos intergeneracionales en mi familia y de pensar las relaciones de poder que atraviesan esas historias; pero también, en medio del clima político actual de este país, de enunciar que, en buena medida, hoy estoy aquí gracias a un migrante.
~
This year I’ve been thinking about cycles, and about how, over time, our bodies overlap in movement. As Federici writes: “to become aware of the meaning of the spaces we inhabit and to remember the cost of walking on the ground we walk on, whose histories are inscribed in the stones, the fields… that surround us.”

There are two days left to visit Evidence of Existence at ICP, where my first attempt to reflect on the labor of the person who lived in this country before me can be seen: my grandfather. He emigrated to the United States and worked here as a gardener.

This piece is a way of honoring the intergenerational efforts within my family and of thinking through the power relations that run through those histories; but also, in the current political climate of this country, of stating that, to a great extent, I am here today thanks to a migrant.

Este año estuve pensando en los ciclos y en cómo, con el tiempo, nuestros cuerpos se traslapan en movimiento. Como dice Federici: “ser conscientes del significado de los espacios que habitamos y recordar el coste que tiene pisar el suelo que pisamos, cuyas historias están inscritas en las piedras, los campos… que nos rodean”.

Quedan dos días para visitar Evidence of Existence en @icp , donde puede verse mi primer acercamiento a pensar la labor de quien vivió en este país antes que yo: mi abuelo. Él emigró a Estados Unidos y trabajó aquí como jardinero.

Esta pieza es una manera de honrar los esfuerzos intergeneracionales en mi familia y de pensar las relaciones de poder que atraviesan esas historias; pero también, en medio del clima político actual de este país, de enunciar que, en buena medida, hoy estoy aquí gracias a un migrante.
~
This year I’ve been thinking about cycles, and about how, over time, our bodies overlap in movement. As Federici writes: “to become aware of the meaning of the spaces we inhabit and to remember the cost of walking on the ground we walk on, whose histories are inscribed in the stones, the fields… that surround us.”

There are two days left to visit Evidence of Existence at ICP, where my first attempt to reflect on the labor of the person who lived in this country before me can be seen: my grandfather. He emigrated to the United States and worked here as a gardener.

This piece is a way of honoring the intergenerational efforts within my family and of thinking through the power relations that run through those histories; but also, in the current political climate of this country, of stating that, to a great extent, I am here today thanks to a migrant.

Este año estuve pensando en los ciclos y en cómo, con el tiempo, nuestros cuerpos se traslapan en movimiento. Como dice Federici: “ser conscientes del significado de los espacios que habitamos y recordar el coste que tiene pisar el suelo que pisamos, cuyas historias están inscritas en las piedras, los campos… que nos rodean”.

Quedan dos días para visitar Evidence of Existence en @icp , donde puede verse mi primer acercamiento a pensar la labor de quien vivió en este país antes que yo: mi abuelo. Él emigró a Estados Unidos y trabajó aquí como jardinero.

Esta pieza es una manera de honrar los esfuerzos intergeneracionales en mi familia y de pensar las relaciones de poder que atraviesan esas historias; pero también, en medio del clima político actual de este país, de enunciar que, en buena medida, hoy estoy aquí gracias a un migrante.
~
This year I’ve been thinking about cycles, and about how, over time, our bodies overlap in movement. As Federici writes: “to become aware of the meaning of the spaces we inhabit and to remember the cost of walking on the ground we walk on, whose histories are inscribed in the stones, the fields… that surround us.”

There are two days left to visit Evidence of Existence at ICP, where my first attempt to reflect on the labor of the person who lived in this country before me can be seen: my grandfather. He emigrated to the United States and worked here as a gardener.

This piece is a way of honoring the intergenerational efforts within my family and of thinking through the power relations that run through those histories; but also, in the current political climate of this country, of stating that, to a great extent, I am here today thanks to a migrant.

Este año estuve pensando en los ciclos y en cómo, con el tiempo, nuestros cuerpos se traslapan en movimiento. Como dice Federici: “ser conscientes del significado de los espacios que habitamos y recordar el coste que tiene pisar el suelo que pisamos, cuyas historias están inscritas en las piedras, los campos… que nos rodean”.

Quedan dos días para visitar Evidence of Existence en @icp , donde puede verse mi primer acercamiento a pensar la labor de quien vivió en este país antes que yo: mi abuelo. Él emigró a Estados Unidos y trabajó aquí como jardinero.

Esta pieza es una manera de honrar los esfuerzos intergeneracionales en mi familia y de pensar las relaciones de poder que atraviesan esas historias; pero también, en medio del clima político actual de este país, de enunciar que, en buena medida, hoy estoy aquí gracias a un migrante.
~
This year I’ve been thinking about cycles, and about how, over time, our bodies overlap in movement. As Federici writes: “to become aware of the meaning of the spaces we inhabit and to remember the cost of walking on the ground we walk on, whose histories are inscribed in the stones, the fields… that surround us.”

There are two days left to visit Evidence of Existence at ICP, where my first attempt to reflect on the labor of the person who lived in this country before me can be seen: my grandfather. He emigrated to the United States and worked here as a gardener.

This piece is a way of honoring the intergenerational efforts within my family and of thinking through the power relations that run through those histories; but also, in the current political climate of this country, of stating that, to a great extent, I am here today thanks to a migrant.

Este año estuve pensando en los ciclos y en cómo, con el tiempo, nuestros cuerpos se traslapan en movimiento. Como dice Federici: “ser conscientes del significado de los espacios que habitamos y recordar el coste que tiene pisar el suelo que pisamos, cuyas historias están inscritas en las piedras, los campos… que nos rodean”.

Quedan dos días para visitar Evidence of Existence en @icp , donde puede verse mi primer acercamiento a pensar la labor de quien vivió en este país antes que yo: mi abuelo. Él emigró a Estados Unidos y trabajó aquí como jardinero.

Esta pieza es una manera de honrar los esfuerzos intergeneracionales en mi familia y de pensar las relaciones de poder que atraviesan esas historias; pero también, en medio del clima político actual de este país, de enunciar que, en buena medida, hoy estoy aquí gracias a un migrante.
~
This year I’ve been thinking about cycles, and about how, over time, our bodies overlap in movement. As Federici writes: “to become aware of the meaning of the spaces we inhabit and to remember the cost of walking on the ground we walk on, whose histories are inscribed in the stones, the fields… that surround us.”

There are two days left to visit Evidence of Existence at ICP, where my first attempt to reflect on the labor of the person who lived in this country before me can be seen: my grandfather. He emigrated to the United States and worked here as a gardener.

This piece is a way of honoring the intergenerational efforts within my family and of thinking through the power relations that run through those histories; but also, in the current political climate of this country, of stating that, to a great extent, I am here today thanks to a migrant.

Este año estuve pensando en los ciclos y en cómo, con el tiempo, nuestros cuerpos se traslapan en movimiento. Como dice Federici: “ser conscientes del significado de los espacios que habitamos y recordar el coste que tiene pisar el suelo que pisamos, cuyas historias están inscritas en las piedras, los campos… que nos rodean”.

Quedan dos días para visitar Evidence of Existence en @icp , donde puede verse mi primer acercamiento a pensar la labor de quien vivió en este país antes que yo: mi abuelo. Él emigró a Estados Unidos y trabajó aquí como jardinero.

Esta pieza es una manera de honrar los esfuerzos intergeneracionales en mi familia y de pensar las relaciones de poder que atraviesan esas historias; pero también, en medio del clima político actual de este país, de enunciar que, en buena medida, hoy estoy aquí gracias a un migrante.
~
This year I’ve been thinking about cycles, and about how, over time, our bodies overlap in movement. As Federici writes: “to become aware of the meaning of the spaces we inhabit and to remember the cost of walking on the ground we walk on, whose histories are inscribed in the stones, the fields… that surround us.”

There are two days left to visit Evidence of Existence at ICP, where my first attempt to reflect on the labor of the person who lived in this country before me can be seen: my grandfather. He emigrated to the United States and worked here as a gardener.

This piece is a way of honoring the intergenerational efforts within my family and of thinking through the power relations that run through those histories; but also, in the current political climate of this country, of stating that, to a great extent, I am here today thanks to a migrant.

Este año estuve pensando en los ciclos y en cómo, con el tiempo, nuestros cuerpos se traslapan en movimiento. Como dice Federici: “ser conscientes del significado de los espacios que habitamos y recordar el coste que tiene pisar el suelo que pisamos, cuyas historias están inscritas en las piedras, los campos… que nos rodean”.

Quedan dos días para visitar Evidence of Existence en @icp , donde puede verse mi primer acercamiento a pensar la labor de quien vivió en este país antes que yo: mi abuelo. Él emigró a Estados Unidos y trabajó aquí como jardinero.

Esta pieza es una manera de honrar los esfuerzos intergeneracionales en mi familia y de pensar las relaciones de poder que atraviesan esas historias; pero también, en medio del clima político actual de este país, de enunciar que, en buena medida, hoy estoy aquí gracias a un migrante.
~
This year I’ve been thinking about cycles, and about how, over time, our bodies overlap in movement. As Federici writes: “to become aware of the meaning of the spaces we inhabit and to remember the cost of walking on the ground we walk on, whose histories are inscribed in the stones, the fields… that surround us.”

There are two days left to visit Evidence of Existence at ICP, where my first attempt to reflect on the labor of the person who lived in this country before me can be seen: my grandfather. He emigrated to the United States and worked here as a gardener.

This piece is a way of honoring the intergenerational efforts within my family and of thinking through the power relations that run through those histories; but also, in the current political climate of this country, of stating that, to a great extent, I am here today thanks to a migrant.

Este año estuve pensando en los ciclos y en cómo, con el tiempo, nuestros cuerpos se traslapan en movimiento. Como dice Federici: “ser conscientes del significado de los espacios que habitamos y recordar el coste que tiene pisar el suelo que pisamos, cuyas historias están inscritas en las piedras, los campos… que nos rodean”.

Quedan dos días para visitar Evidence of Existence en @icp , donde puede verse mi primer acercamiento a pensar la labor de quien vivió en este país antes que yo: mi abuelo. Él emigró a Estados Unidos y trabajó aquí como jardinero.

Esta pieza es una manera de honrar los esfuerzos intergeneracionales en mi familia y de pensar las relaciones de poder que atraviesan esas historias; pero también, en medio del clima político actual de este país, de enunciar que, en buena medida, hoy estoy aquí gracias a un migrante.
~
This year I’ve been thinking about cycles, and about how, over time, our bodies overlap in movement. As Federici writes: “to become aware of the meaning of the spaces we inhabit and to remember the cost of walking on the ground we walk on, whose histories are inscribed in the stones, the fields… that surround us.”

There are two days left to visit Evidence of Existence at ICP, where my first attempt to reflect on the labor of the person who lived in this country before me can be seen: my grandfather. He emigrated to the United States and worked here as a gardener.

This piece is a way of honoring the intergenerational efforts within my family and of thinking through the power relations that run through those histories; but also, in the current political climate of this country, of stating that, to a great extent, I am here today thanks to a migrant.

Este año estuve pensando en los ciclos y en cómo, con el tiempo, nuestros cuerpos se traslapan en movimiento. Como dice Federici: “ser conscientes del significado de los espacios que habitamos y recordar el coste que tiene pisar el suelo que pisamos, cuyas historias están inscritas en las piedras, los campos… que nos rodean”.

Quedan dos días para visitar Evidence of Existence en @icp , donde puede verse mi primer acercamiento a pensar la labor de quien vivió en este país antes que yo: mi abuelo. Él emigró a Estados Unidos y trabajó aquí como jardinero.

Esta pieza es una manera de honrar los esfuerzos intergeneracionales en mi familia y de pensar las relaciones de poder que atraviesan esas historias; pero también, en medio del clima político actual de este país, de enunciar que, en buena medida, hoy estoy aquí gracias a un migrante.
~
This year I’ve been thinking about cycles, and about how, over time, our bodies overlap in movement. As Federici writes: “to become aware of the meaning of the spaces we inhabit and to remember the cost of walking on the ground we walk on, whose histories are inscribed in the stones, the fields… that surround us.”

There are two days left to visit Evidence of Existence at ICP, where my first attempt to reflect on the labor of the person who lived in this country before me can be seen: my grandfather. He emigrated to the United States and worked here as a gardener.

This piece is a way of honoring the intergenerational efforts within my family and of thinking through the power relations that run through those histories; but also, in the current political climate of this country, of stating that, to a great extent, I am here today thanks to a migrant.

Este año estuve pensando en los ciclos y en cómo, con el tiempo, nuestros cuerpos se traslapan en movimiento. Como dice Federici: “ser conscientes del significado de los espacios que habitamos y recordar el coste que tiene pisar el suelo que pisamos, cuyas historias están inscritas en las piedras, los campos… que nos rodean”.

Quedan dos días para visitar Evidence of Existence en @icp , donde puede verse mi primer acercamiento a pensar la labor de quien vivió en este país antes que yo: mi abuelo. Él emigró a Estados Unidos y trabajó aquí como jardinero.

Esta pieza es una manera de honrar los esfuerzos intergeneracionales en mi familia y de pensar las relaciones de poder que atraviesan esas historias; pero también, en medio del clima político actual de este país, de enunciar que, en buena medida, hoy estoy aquí gracias a un migrante.
~
This year I’ve been thinking about cycles, and about how, over time, our bodies overlap in movement. As Federici writes: “to become aware of the meaning of the spaces we inhabit and to remember the cost of walking on the ground we walk on, whose histories are inscribed in the stones, the fields… that surround us.”

There are two days left to visit Evidence of Existence at ICP, where my first attempt to reflect on the labor of the person who lived in this country before me can be seen: my grandfather. He emigrated to the United States and worked here as a gardener.

This piece is a way of honoring the intergenerational efforts within my family and of thinking through the power relations that run through those histories; but also, in the current political climate of this country, of stating that, to a great extent, I am here today thanks to a migrant.

Este año estuve pensando en los ciclos y en cómo, con el tiempo, nuestros cuerpos se traslapan en movimiento. Como dice Federici: “ser conscientes del significado de los espacios que habitamos y recordar el coste que tiene pisar el suelo que pisamos, cuyas historias están inscritas en las piedras, los campos… que nos rodean”.

Quedan dos días para visitar Evidence of Existence en @icp , donde puede verse mi primer acercamiento a pensar la labor de quien vivió en este país antes que yo: mi abuelo. Él emigró a Estados Unidos y trabajó aquí como jardinero.

Esta pieza es una manera de honrar los esfuerzos intergeneracionales en mi familia y de pensar las relaciones de poder que atraviesan esas historias; pero también, en medio del clima político actual de este país, de enunciar que, en buena medida, hoy estoy aquí gracias a un migrante.
~
This year I’ve been thinking about cycles, and about how, over time, our bodies overlap in movement. As Federici writes: “to become aware of the meaning of the spaces we inhabit and to remember the cost of walking on the ground we walk on, whose histories are inscribed in the stones, the fields… that surround us.”

There are two days left to visit Evidence of Existence at ICP, where my first attempt to reflect on the labor of the person who lived in this country before me can be seen: my grandfather. He emigrated to the United States and worked here as a gardener.

This piece is a way of honoring the intergenerational efforts within my family and of thinking through the power relations that run through those histories; but also, in the current political climate of this country, of stating that, to a great extent, I am here today thanks to a migrant.

Este año estuve pensando en los ciclos y en cómo, con el tiempo, nuestros cuerpos se traslapan en movimiento. Como dice Federici: “ser conscientes del significado de los espacios que habitamos y recordar el coste que tiene pisar el suelo que pisamos, cuyas historias están inscritas en las piedras, los campos… que nos rodean”.

Quedan dos días para visitar Evidence of Existence en @icp , donde puede verse mi primer acercamiento a pensar la labor de quien vivió en este país antes que yo: mi abuelo. Él emigró a Estados Unidos y trabajó aquí como jardinero.

Esta pieza es una manera de honrar los esfuerzos intergeneracionales en mi familia y de pensar las relaciones de poder que atraviesan esas historias; pero también, en medio del clima político actual de este país, de enunciar que, en buena medida, hoy estoy aquí gracias a un migrante.
~
This year I’ve been thinking about cycles, and about how, over time, our bodies overlap in movement. As Federici writes: “to become aware of the meaning of the spaces we inhabit and to remember the cost of walking on the ground we walk on, whose histories are inscribed in the stones, the fields… that surround us.”

There are two days left to visit Evidence of Existence at ICP, where my first attempt to reflect on the labor of the person who lived in this country before me can be seen: my grandfather. He emigrated to the United States and worked here as a gardener.

This piece is a way of honoring the intergenerational efforts within my family and of thinking through the power relations that run through those histories; but also, in the current political climate of this country, of stating that, to a great extent, I am here today thanks to a migrant.

Visit our new display “Reframing horizons”. A selection of books by Sara Meneses Cuapio @cuapiomsara

Photography has historically functioned both as a device for the document of Native communities and as a means of constructing imaginaries about them. These ideas have shaped social prejudices that even now keep shadowing us, contemporary photographers with these origins.

I began the selection for this display among images made by explorers who used the camera to measure othered bodies, sharing the shelf with allied photographers whose work has accompanied collective processes or has been crucial in shaping the memory of certain communities.

Ultimately, I chose to focus on Native photographers. If approximately 0.06% of the materials in the ICP collection are made by them, their limited presence does not reflect a lack of talent or production, but rather systems of management and economic conditions that have restricted their circulation and the very possibility of publishing their work.

From pioneering visions to new approaches, this group of books seeks to open a horizon and bring a sense of hope: to imagine a freer practice, where Native photographers are not confined to a single thematic axis, but are able to create about anything.

Through printed covers, I have also brought in the absent photographers—contemporary works and recently published materials that I believe are important to keep on our radar, and that I hope can soon be accessible within this library’s collection.

Visit our new display “Reframing horizons”. A selection of books by Sara Meneses Cuapio @cuapiomsara

Photography has historically functioned both as a device for the document of Native communities and as a means of constructing imaginaries about them. These ideas have shaped social prejudices that even now keep shadowing us, contemporary photographers with these origins.

I began the selection for this display among images made by explorers who used the camera to measure othered bodies, sharing the shelf with allied photographers whose work has accompanied collective processes or has been crucial in shaping the memory of certain communities.

Ultimately, I chose to focus on Native photographers. If approximately 0.06% of the materials in the ICP collection are made by them, their limited presence does not reflect a lack of talent or production, but rather systems of management and economic conditions that have restricted their circulation and the very possibility of publishing their work.

From pioneering visions to new approaches, this group of books seeks to open a horizon and bring a sense of hope: to imagine a freer practice, where Native photographers are not confined to a single thematic axis, but are able to create about anything.

Through printed covers, I have also brought in the absent photographers—contemporary works and recently published materials that I believe are important to keep on our radar, and that I hope can soon be accessible within this library’s collection.

Visit our new display “Reframing horizons”. A selection of books by Sara Meneses Cuapio @cuapiomsara

Photography has historically functioned both as a device for the document of Native communities and as a means of constructing imaginaries about them. These ideas have shaped social prejudices that even now keep shadowing us, contemporary photographers with these origins.

I began the selection for this display among images made by explorers who used the camera to measure othered bodies, sharing the shelf with allied photographers whose work has accompanied collective processes or has been crucial in shaping the memory of certain communities.

Ultimately, I chose to focus on Native photographers. If approximately 0.06% of the materials in the ICP collection are made by them, their limited presence does not reflect a lack of talent or production, but rather systems of management and economic conditions that have restricted their circulation and the very possibility of publishing their work.

From pioneering visions to new approaches, this group of books seeks to open a horizon and bring a sense of hope: to imagine a freer practice, where Native photographers are not confined to a single thematic axis, but are able to create about anything.

Through printed covers, I have also brought in the absent photographers—contemporary works and recently published materials that I believe are important to keep on our radar, and that I hope can soon be accessible within this library’s collection.

Visit our new display “Reframing horizons”. A selection of books by Sara Meneses Cuapio @cuapiomsara

Photography has historically functioned both as a device for the document of Native communities and as a means of constructing imaginaries about them. These ideas have shaped social prejudices that even now keep shadowing us, contemporary photographers with these origins.

I began the selection for this display among images made by explorers who used the camera to measure othered bodies, sharing the shelf with allied photographers whose work has accompanied collective processes or has been crucial in shaping the memory of certain communities.

Ultimately, I chose to focus on Native photographers. If approximately 0.06% of the materials in the ICP collection are made by them, their limited presence does not reflect a lack of talent or production, but rather systems of management and economic conditions that have restricted their circulation and the very possibility of publishing their work.

From pioneering visions to new approaches, this group of books seeks to open a horizon and bring a sense of hope: to imagine a freer practice, where Native photographers are not confined to a single thematic axis, but are able to create about anything.

Through printed covers, I have also brought in the absent photographers—contemporary works and recently published materials that I believe are important to keep on our radar, and that I hope can soon be accessible within this library’s collection.

Visit our new display “Reframing horizons”. A selection of books by Sara Meneses Cuapio @cuapiomsara

Photography has historically functioned both as a device for the document of Native communities and as a means of constructing imaginaries about them. These ideas have shaped social prejudices that even now keep shadowing us, contemporary photographers with these origins.

I began the selection for this display among images made by explorers who used the camera to measure othered bodies, sharing the shelf with allied photographers whose work has accompanied collective processes or has been crucial in shaping the memory of certain communities.

Ultimately, I chose to focus on Native photographers. If approximately 0.06% of the materials in the ICP collection are made by them, their limited presence does not reflect a lack of talent or production, but rather systems of management and economic conditions that have restricted their circulation and the very possibility of publishing their work.

From pioneering visions to new approaches, this group of books seeks to open a horizon and bring a sense of hope: to imagine a freer practice, where Native photographers are not confined to a single thematic axis, but are able to create about anything.

Through printed covers, I have also brought in the absent photographers—contemporary works and recently published materials that I believe are important to keep on our radar, and that I hope can soon be accessible within this library’s collection.

Visit our new display “Reframing horizons”. A selection of books by Sara Meneses Cuapio @cuapiomsara

Photography has historically functioned both as a device for the document of Native communities and as a means of constructing imaginaries about them. These ideas have shaped social prejudices that even now keep shadowing us, contemporary photographers with these origins.

I began the selection for this display among images made by explorers who used the camera to measure othered bodies, sharing the shelf with allied photographers whose work has accompanied collective processes or has been crucial in shaping the memory of certain communities.

Ultimately, I chose to focus on Native photographers. If approximately 0.06% of the materials in the ICP collection are made by them, their limited presence does not reflect a lack of talent or production, but rather systems of management and economic conditions that have restricted their circulation and the very possibility of publishing their work.

From pioneering visions to new approaches, this group of books seeks to open a horizon and bring a sense of hope: to imagine a freer practice, where Native photographers are not confined to a single thematic axis, but are able to create about anything.

Through printed covers, I have also brought in the absent photographers—contemporary works and recently published materials that I believe are important to keep on our radar, and that I hope can soon be accessible within this library’s collection.

Visit our new display “Reframing horizons”. A selection of books by Sara Meneses Cuapio @cuapiomsara

Photography has historically functioned both as a device for the document of Native communities and as a means of constructing imaginaries about them. These ideas have shaped social prejudices that even now keep shadowing us, contemporary photographers with these origins.

I began the selection for this display among images made by explorers who used the camera to measure othered bodies, sharing the shelf with allied photographers whose work has accompanied collective processes or has been crucial in shaping the memory of certain communities.

Ultimately, I chose to focus on Native photographers. If approximately 0.06% of the materials in the ICP collection are made by them, their limited presence does not reflect a lack of talent or production, but rather systems of management and economic conditions that have restricted their circulation and the very possibility of publishing their work.

From pioneering visions to new approaches, this group of books seeks to open a horizon and bring a sense of hope: to imagine a freer practice, where Native photographers are not confined to a single thematic axis, but are able to create about anything.

Through printed covers, I have also brought in the absent photographers—contemporary works and recently published materials that I believe are important to keep on our radar, and that I hope can soon be accessible within this library’s collection.

Visit our new display “Reframing horizons”. A selection of books by Sara Meneses Cuapio @cuapiomsara

Photography has historically functioned both as a device for the document of Native communities and as a means of constructing imaginaries about them. These ideas have shaped social prejudices that even now keep shadowing us, contemporary photographers with these origins.

I began the selection for this display among images made by explorers who used the camera to measure othered bodies, sharing the shelf with allied photographers whose work has accompanied collective processes or has been crucial in shaping the memory of certain communities.

Ultimately, I chose to focus on Native photographers. If approximately 0.06% of the materials in the ICP collection are made by them, their limited presence does not reflect a lack of talent or production, but rather systems of management and economic conditions that have restricted their circulation and the very possibility of publishing their work.

From pioneering visions to new approaches, this group of books seeks to open a horizon and bring a sense of hope: to imagine a freer practice, where Native photographers are not confined to a single thematic axis, but are able to create about anything.

Through printed covers, I have also brought in the absent photographers—contemporary works and recently published materials that I believe are important to keep on our radar, and that I hope can soon be accessible within this library’s collection.

Visit our new display “Reframing horizons”. A selection of books by Sara Meneses Cuapio @cuapiomsara

Photography has historically functioned both as a device for the document of Native communities and as a means of constructing imaginaries about them. These ideas have shaped social prejudices that even now keep shadowing us, contemporary photographers with these origins.

I began the selection for this display among images made by explorers who used the camera to measure othered bodies, sharing the shelf with allied photographers whose work has accompanied collective processes or has been crucial in shaping the memory of certain communities.

Ultimately, I chose to focus on Native photographers. If approximately 0.06% of the materials in the ICP collection are made by them, their limited presence does not reflect a lack of talent or production, but rather systems of management and economic conditions that have restricted their circulation and the very possibility of publishing their work.

From pioneering visions to new approaches, this group of books seeks to open a horizon and bring a sense of hope: to imagine a freer practice, where Native photographers are not confined to a single thematic axis, but are able to create about anything.

Through printed covers, I have also brought in the absent photographers—contemporary works and recently published materials that I believe are important to keep on our radar, and that I hope can soon be accessible within this library’s collection.

Visit our new display “Reframing horizons”. A selection of books by Sara Meneses Cuapio @cuapiomsara

Photography has historically functioned both as a device for the document of Native communities and as a means of constructing imaginaries about them. These ideas have shaped social prejudices that even now keep shadowing us, contemporary photographers with these origins.

I began the selection for this display among images made by explorers who used the camera to measure othered bodies, sharing the shelf with allied photographers whose work has accompanied collective processes or has been crucial in shaping the memory of certain communities.

Ultimately, I chose to focus on Native photographers. If approximately 0.06% of the materials in the ICP collection are made by them, their limited presence does not reflect a lack of talent or production, but rather systems of management and economic conditions that have restricted their circulation and the very possibility of publishing their work.

From pioneering visions to new approaches, this group of books seeks to open a horizon and bring a sense of hope: to imagine a freer practice, where Native photographers are not confined to a single thematic axis, but are able to create about anything.

Through printed covers, I have also brought in the absent photographers—contemporary works and recently published materials that I believe are important to keep on our radar, and that I hope can soon be accessible within this library’s collection.

Visit our new display “Reframing horizons”. A selection of books by Sara Meneses Cuapio @cuapiomsara

Photography has historically functioned both as a device for the document of Native communities and as a means of constructing imaginaries about them. These ideas have shaped social prejudices that even now keep shadowing us, contemporary photographers with these origins.

I began the selection for this display among images made by explorers who used the camera to measure othered bodies, sharing the shelf with allied photographers whose work has accompanied collective processes or has been crucial in shaping the memory of certain communities.

Ultimately, I chose to focus on Native photographers. If approximately 0.06% of the materials in the ICP collection are made by them, their limited presence does not reflect a lack of talent or production, but rather systems of management and economic conditions that have restricted their circulation and the very possibility of publishing their work.

From pioneering visions to new approaches, this group of books seeks to open a horizon and bring a sense of hope: to imagine a freer practice, where Native photographers are not confined to a single thematic axis, but are able to create about anything.

Through printed covers, I have also brought in the absent photographers—contemporary works and recently published materials that I believe are important to keep on our radar, and that I hope can soon be accessible within this library’s collection.

Visit our new display “Reframing horizons”. A selection of books by Sara Meneses Cuapio @cuapiomsara

Photography has historically functioned both as a device for the document of Native communities and as a means of constructing imaginaries about them. These ideas have shaped social prejudices that even now keep shadowing us, contemporary photographers with these origins.

I began the selection for this display among images made by explorers who used the camera to measure othered bodies, sharing the shelf with allied photographers whose work has accompanied collective processes or has been crucial in shaping the memory of certain communities.

Ultimately, I chose to focus on Native photographers. If approximately 0.06% of the materials in the ICP collection are made by them, their limited presence does not reflect a lack of talent or production, but rather systems of management and economic conditions that have restricted their circulation and the very possibility of publishing their work.

From pioneering visions to new approaches, this group of books seeks to open a horizon and bring a sense of hope: to imagine a freer practice, where Native photographers are not confined to a single thematic axis, but are able to create about anything.

Through printed covers, I have also brought in the absent photographers—contemporary works and recently published materials that I believe are important to keep on our radar, and that I hope can soon be accessible within this library’s collection.

Visit our new display “Reframing horizons”. A selection of books by Sara Meneses Cuapio @cuapiomsara

Photography has historically functioned both as a device for the document of Native communities and as a means of constructing imaginaries about them. These ideas have shaped social prejudices that even now keep shadowing us, contemporary photographers with these origins.

I began the selection for this display among images made by explorers who used the camera to measure othered bodies, sharing the shelf with allied photographers whose work has accompanied collective processes or has been crucial in shaping the memory of certain communities.

Ultimately, I chose to focus on Native photographers. If approximately 0.06% of the materials in the ICP collection are made by them, their limited presence does not reflect a lack of talent or production, but rather systems of management and economic conditions that have restricted their circulation and the very possibility of publishing their work.

From pioneering visions to new approaches, this group of books seeks to open a horizon and bring a sense of hope: to imagine a freer practice, where Native photographers are not confined to a single thematic axis, but are able to create about anything.

Through printed covers, I have also brought in the absent photographers—contemporary works and recently published materials that I believe are important to keep on our radar, and that I hope can soon be accessible within this library’s collection.

Visit our new display “Reframing horizons”. A selection of books by Sara Meneses Cuapio @cuapiomsara

Photography has historically functioned both as a device for the document of Native communities and as a means of constructing imaginaries about them. These ideas have shaped social prejudices that even now keep shadowing us, contemporary photographers with these origins.

I began the selection for this display among images made by explorers who used the camera to measure othered bodies, sharing the shelf with allied photographers whose work has accompanied collective processes or has been crucial in shaping the memory of certain communities.

Ultimately, I chose to focus on Native photographers. If approximately 0.06% of the materials in the ICP collection are made by them, their limited presence does not reflect a lack of talent or production, but rather systems of management and economic conditions that have restricted their circulation and the very possibility of publishing their work.

From pioneering visions to new approaches, this group of books seeks to open a horizon and bring a sense of hope: to imagine a freer practice, where Native photographers are not confined to a single thematic axis, but are able to create about anything.

Through printed covers, I have also brought in the absent photographers—contemporary works and recently published materials that I believe are important to keep on our radar, and that I hope can soon be accessible within this library’s collection.

Visit our new display “Reframing horizons”. A selection of books by Sara Meneses Cuapio @cuapiomsara

Photography has historically functioned both as a device for the document of Native communities and as a means of constructing imaginaries about them. These ideas have shaped social prejudices that even now keep shadowing us, contemporary photographers with these origins.

I began the selection for this display among images made by explorers who used the camera to measure othered bodies, sharing the shelf with allied photographers whose work has accompanied collective processes or has been crucial in shaping the memory of certain communities.

Ultimately, I chose to focus on Native photographers. If approximately 0.06% of the materials in the ICP collection are made by them, their limited presence does not reflect a lack of talent or production, but rather systems of management and economic conditions that have restricted their circulation and the very possibility of publishing their work.

From pioneering visions to new approaches, this group of books seeks to open a horizon and bring a sense of hope: to imagine a freer practice, where Native photographers are not confined to a single thematic axis, but are able to create about anything.

Through printed covers, I have also brought in the absent photographers—contemporary works and recently published materials that I believe are important to keep on our radar, and that I hope can soon be accessible within this library’s collection.

Visit our new display “Reframing horizons”. A selection of books by Sara Meneses Cuapio @cuapiomsara

Photography has historically functioned both as a device for the document of Native communities and as a means of constructing imaginaries about them. These ideas have shaped social prejudices that even now keep shadowing us, contemporary photographers with these origins.

I began the selection for this display among images made by explorers who used the camera to measure othered bodies, sharing the shelf with allied photographers whose work has accompanied collective processes or has been crucial in shaping the memory of certain communities.

Ultimately, I chose to focus on Native photographers. If approximately 0.06% of the materials in the ICP collection are made by them, their limited presence does not reflect a lack of talent or production, but rather systems of management and economic conditions that have restricted their circulation and the very possibility of publishing their work.

From pioneering visions to new approaches, this group of books seeks to open a horizon and bring a sense of hope: to imagine a freer practice, where Native photographers are not confined to a single thematic axis, but are able to create about anything.

Through printed covers, I have also brought in the absent photographers—contemporary works and recently published materials that I believe are important to keep on our radar, and that I hope can soon be accessible within this library’s collection.

Viviendo en una caverna llamada New York. // I’ve been living in a cave called New York.

Apuntes.

Una linda sorpresa y qué honor 🤯ser incluida en “Hacer aparecer: lo que han dado a ver las fotógrafas en México (1994–2024)”

Una cartografía estética, política y afectiva sobre la obra de 25 fotógrafas, publicada en el número 83 de la Revista Alquimia de la Fototeca Nacional. Gracias a su autora, Johan Trujillo Argüelles @trujillojo, por hacerme coincidir con fotógrafas increíbles que admiro profundamente y cuyo camino ha abierto paso a muchas cosas que hoy son posibles para mi generación.
El artículo puede consultarse en el enlace de mi biografía.

ENG
A lovely surprise and what an honor 😳 to be included in “Making Appear: What Women Photographers in Mexico Have Made Visible (1994–2024)”.

An aesthetic, political, and affective mapping of the work of 25 women photographers, published in issue 83 of Alquimia, the magazine of Mexico’s National Photographic Archive. Thanks to its author, Johan Trujillo Argüelles @trujillojo, for bringing me together with such incredible artists I deeply admire, whose paths have paved the way for many of the opportunities now available to my generation.

The article can be read (in Spanish) via the link in my bio.

Fui tragada por un ciclón llamado escuela, pero quería sentarme a pensar con pausa y gratitud lo hermoso que me trató Biarritz a finales de septiembre: la brisa nocturna atravesando la luz del faro, la calidez de las personas, su escucha atenta, los abrazos inesperados en la calle. Verles dejarse conmover por la imagen, me hizo sentir esperanza.

Gracias a @clanetpatric, curador de esta exposición y cómplice de esos días, por ser un anfitrión tan generoso en el sur de Francia, y por compartir conmigo un vino frente al mar mientras escuchábamos a Mercedes Sosa: gracias a la vida.

I was swallowed by a whirlwind called school, but I wanted to pause and reflect with gratitude on how beautifully Biarritz treated me at the end of September: the night breeze cutting through the lighthouse’s beam, the warmth of the people, their attentive listening, the unexpected hugs on the street. Seeing them allow themselves to be moved by the image made me feel hope.

Thank you to Patric Clanet, curator of this exhibition and companion during those days, for being such a generous host in the south of France, and for sharing a wine with me by the sea while we listened to Mercedes Sosa: Thanks to life.

Fui tragada por un ciclón llamado escuela, pero quería sentarme a pensar con pausa y gratitud lo hermoso que me trató Biarritz a finales de septiembre: la brisa nocturna atravesando la luz del faro, la calidez de las personas, su escucha atenta, los abrazos inesperados en la calle. Verles dejarse conmover por la imagen, me hizo sentir esperanza.

Gracias a @clanetpatric, curador de esta exposición y cómplice de esos días, por ser un anfitrión tan generoso en el sur de Francia, y por compartir conmigo un vino frente al mar mientras escuchábamos a Mercedes Sosa: gracias a la vida.

I was swallowed by a whirlwind called school, but I wanted to pause and reflect with gratitude on how beautifully Biarritz treated me at the end of September: the night breeze cutting through the lighthouse’s beam, the warmth of the people, their attentive listening, the unexpected hugs on the street. Seeing them allow themselves to be moved by the image made me feel hope.

Thank you to Patric Clanet, curator of this exhibition and companion during those days, for being such a generous host in the south of France, and for sharing a wine with me by the sea while we listened to Mercedes Sosa: Thanks to life.

Fui tragada por un ciclón llamado escuela, pero quería sentarme a pensar con pausa y gratitud lo hermoso que me trató Biarritz a finales de septiembre: la brisa nocturna atravesando la luz del faro, la calidez de las personas, su escucha atenta, los abrazos inesperados en la calle. Verles dejarse conmover por la imagen, me hizo sentir esperanza.

Gracias a @clanetpatric, curador de esta exposición y cómplice de esos días, por ser un anfitrión tan generoso en el sur de Francia, y por compartir conmigo un vino frente al mar mientras escuchábamos a Mercedes Sosa: gracias a la vida.

I was swallowed by a whirlwind called school, but I wanted to pause and reflect with gratitude on how beautifully Biarritz treated me at the end of September: the night breeze cutting through the lighthouse’s beam, the warmth of the people, their attentive listening, the unexpected hugs on the street. Seeing them allow themselves to be moved by the image made me feel hope.

Thank you to Patric Clanet, curator of this exhibition and companion during those days, for being such a generous host in the south of France, and for sharing a wine with me by the sea while we listened to Mercedes Sosa: Thanks to life.

Fui tragada por un ciclón llamado escuela, pero quería sentarme a pensar con pausa y gratitud lo hermoso que me trató Biarritz a finales de septiembre: la brisa nocturna atravesando la luz del faro, la calidez de las personas, su escucha atenta, los abrazos inesperados en la calle. Verles dejarse conmover por la imagen, me hizo sentir esperanza.

Gracias a @clanetpatric, curador de esta exposición y cómplice de esos días, por ser un anfitrión tan generoso en el sur de Francia, y por compartir conmigo un vino frente al mar mientras escuchábamos a Mercedes Sosa: gracias a la vida.

I was swallowed by a whirlwind called school, but I wanted to pause and reflect with gratitude on how beautifully Biarritz treated me at the end of September: the night breeze cutting through the lighthouse’s beam, the warmth of the people, their attentive listening, the unexpected hugs on the street. Seeing them allow themselves to be moved by the image made me feel hope.

Thank you to Patric Clanet, curator of this exhibition and companion during those days, for being such a generous host in the south of France, and for sharing a wine with me by the sea while we listened to Mercedes Sosa: Thanks to life.

Fui tragada por un ciclón llamado escuela, pero quería sentarme a pensar con pausa y gratitud lo hermoso que me trató Biarritz a finales de septiembre: la brisa nocturna atravesando la luz del faro, la calidez de las personas, su escucha atenta, los abrazos inesperados en la calle. Verles dejarse conmover por la imagen, me hizo sentir esperanza.

Gracias a @clanetpatric, curador de esta exposición y cómplice de esos días, por ser un anfitrión tan generoso en el sur de Francia, y por compartir conmigo un vino frente al mar mientras escuchábamos a Mercedes Sosa: gracias a la vida.

I was swallowed by a whirlwind called school, but I wanted to pause and reflect with gratitude on how beautifully Biarritz treated me at the end of September: the night breeze cutting through the lighthouse’s beam, the warmth of the people, their attentive listening, the unexpected hugs on the street. Seeing them allow themselves to be moved by the image made me feel hope.

Thank you to Patric Clanet, curator of this exhibition and companion during those days, for being such a generous host in the south of France, and for sharing a wine with me by the sea while we listened to Mercedes Sosa: Thanks to life.

Fui tragada por un ciclón llamado escuela, pero quería sentarme a pensar con pausa y gratitud lo hermoso que me trató Biarritz a finales de septiembre: la brisa nocturna atravesando la luz del faro, la calidez de las personas, su escucha atenta, los abrazos inesperados en la calle. Verles dejarse conmover por la imagen, me hizo sentir esperanza.

Gracias a @clanetpatric, curador de esta exposición y cómplice de esos días, por ser un anfitrión tan generoso en el sur de Francia, y por compartir conmigo un vino frente al mar mientras escuchábamos a Mercedes Sosa: gracias a la vida.

I was swallowed by a whirlwind called school, but I wanted to pause and reflect with gratitude on how beautifully Biarritz treated me at the end of September: the night breeze cutting through the lighthouse’s beam, the warmth of the people, their attentive listening, the unexpected hugs on the street. Seeing them allow themselves to be moved by the image made me feel hope.

Thank you to Patric Clanet, curator of this exhibition and companion during those days, for being such a generous host in the south of France, and for sharing a wine with me by the sea while we listened to Mercedes Sosa: Thanks to life.

Fui tragada por un ciclón llamado escuela, pero quería sentarme a pensar con pausa y gratitud lo hermoso que me trató Biarritz a finales de septiembre: la brisa nocturna atravesando la luz del faro, la calidez de las personas, su escucha atenta, los abrazos inesperados en la calle. Verles dejarse conmover por la imagen, me hizo sentir esperanza.

Gracias a @clanetpatric, curador de esta exposición y cómplice de esos días, por ser un anfitrión tan generoso en el sur de Francia, y por compartir conmigo un vino frente al mar mientras escuchábamos a Mercedes Sosa: gracias a la vida.

I was swallowed by a whirlwind called school, but I wanted to pause and reflect with gratitude on how beautifully Biarritz treated me at the end of September: the night breeze cutting through the lighthouse’s beam, the warmth of the people, their attentive listening, the unexpected hugs on the street. Seeing them allow themselves to be moved by the image made me feel hope.

Thank you to Patric Clanet, curator of this exhibition and companion during those days, for being such a generous host in the south of France, and for sharing a wine with me by the sea while we listened to Mercedes Sosa: Thanks to life.

Fui tragada por un ciclón llamado escuela, pero quería sentarme a pensar con pausa y gratitud lo hermoso que me trató Biarritz a finales de septiembre: la brisa nocturna atravesando la luz del faro, la calidez de las personas, su escucha atenta, los abrazos inesperados en la calle. Verles dejarse conmover por la imagen, me hizo sentir esperanza.

Gracias a @clanetpatric, curador de esta exposición y cómplice de esos días, por ser un anfitrión tan generoso en el sur de Francia, y por compartir conmigo un vino frente al mar mientras escuchábamos a Mercedes Sosa: gracias a la vida.

I was swallowed by a whirlwind called school, but I wanted to pause and reflect with gratitude on how beautifully Biarritz treated me at the end of September: the night breeze cutting through the lighthouse’s beam, the warmth of the people, their attentive listening, the unexpected hugs on the street. Seeing them allow themselves to be moved by the image made me feel hope.

Thank you to Patric Clanet, curator of this exhibition and companion during those days, for being such a generous host in the south of France, and for sharing a wine with me by the sea while we listened to Mercedes Sosa: Thanks to life.

Fui tragada por un ciclón llamado escuela, pero quería sentarme a pensar con pausa y gratitud lo hermoso que me trató Biarritz a finales de septiembre: la brisa nocturna atravesando la luz del faro, la calidez de las personas, su escucha atenta, los abrazos inesperados en la calle. Verles dejarse conmover por la imagen, me hizo sentir esperanza.

Gracias a @clanetpatric, curador de esta exposición y cómplice de esos días, por ser un anfitrión tan generoso en el sur de Francia, y por compartir conmigo un vino frente al mar mientras escuchábamos a Mercedes Sosa: gracias a la vida.

I was swallowed by a whirlwind called school, but I wanted to pause and reflect with gratitude on how beautifully Biarritz treated me at the end of September: the night breeze cutting through the lighthouse’s beam, the warmth of the people, their attentive listening, the unexpected hugs on the street. Seeing them allow themselves to be moved by the image made me feel hope.

Thank you to Patric Clanet, curator of this exhibition and companion during those days, for being such a generous host in the south of France, and for sharing a wine with me by the sea while we listened to Mercedes Sosa: Thanks to life.

Fui tragada por un ciclón llamado escuela, pero quería sentarme a pensar con pausa y gratitud lo hermoso que me trató Biarritz a finales de septiembre: la brisa nocturna atravesando la luz del faro, la calidez de las personas, su escucha atenta, los abrazos inesperados en la calle. Verles dejarse conmover por la imagen, me hizo sentir esperanza.

Gracias a @clanetpatric, curador de esta exposición y cómplice de esos días, por ser un anfitrión tan generoso en el sur de Francia, y por compartir conmigo un vino frente al mar mientras escuchábamos a Mercedes Sosa: gracias a la vida.

I was swallowed by a whirlwind called school, but I wanted to pause and reflect with gratitude on how beautifully Biarritz treated me at the end of September: the night breeze cutting through the lighthouse’s beam, the warmth of the people, their attentive listening, the unexpected hugs on the street. Seeing them allow themselves to be moved by the image made me feel hope.

Thank you to Patric Clanet, curator of this exhibition and companion during those days, for being such a generous host in the south of France, and for sharing a wine with me by the sea while we listened to Mercedes Sosa: Thanks to life.

Fui tragada por un ciclón llamado escuela, pero quería sentarme a pensar con pausa y gratitud lo hermoso que me trató Biarritz a finales de septiembre: la brisa nocturna atravesando la luz del faro, la calidez de las personas, su escucha atenta, los abrazos inesperados en la calle. Verles dejarse conmover por la imagen, me hizo sentir esperanza.

Gracias a @clanetpatric, curador de esta exposición y cómplice de esos días, por ser un anfitrión tan generoso en el sur de Francia, y por compartir conmigo un vino frente al mar mientras escuchábamos a Mercedes Sosa: gracias a la vida.

I was swallowed by a whirlwind called school, but I wanted to pause and reflect with gratitude on how beautifully Biarritz treated me at the end of September: the night breeze cutting through the lighthouse’s beam, the warmth of the people, their attentive listening, the unexpected hugs on the street. Seeing them allow themselves to be moved by the image made me feel hope.

Thank you to Patric Clanet, curator of this exhibition and companion during those days, for being such a generous host in the south of France, and for sharing a wine with me by the sea while we listened to Mercedes Sosa: Thanks to life.

Nube de fuego.

Hoy es el último día para visitar mi trabajo en el Kranj Foto Fest en Eslovenia y todavía sigo soñando con el espacio de esa exposición 🩶 The Layer House una casa del siglo XVIII que perteneció al pintor barroco Leopold Layer.

Curaduría, curator: @laure_tell. Gestionado por, Hosted by: @leica_camera @leica_camera_austria@pradofernanda. Espacio, location: @layerjevahisa

Today is the last day to see my work at the Kranj Foto Fest in Slovenia, and I’m still over the moon about the space of that exhibition, the Layer House, an 18th-century house that belonged to the baroque painter Leopold Layer.

Hoy es el último día para visitar mi trabajo en el Kranj Foto Fest en Eslovenia y todavía sigo soñando con el espacio de esa exposición 🩶 The Layer House una casa del siglo XVIII que perteneció al pintor barroco Leopold Layer.

Curaduría, curator: @laure_tell. Gestionado por, Hosted by: @leica_camera @leica_camera_austria@pradofernanda. Espacio, location: @layerjevahisa

Today is the last day to see my work at the Kranj Foto Fest in Slovenia, and I’m still over the moon about the space of that exhibition, the Layer House, an 18th-century house that belonged to the baroque painter Leopold Layer.

Hoy es el último día para visitar mi trabajo en el Kranj Foto Fest en Eslovenia y todavía sigo soñando con el espacio de esa exposición 🩶 The Layer House una casa del siglo XVIII que perteneció al pintor barroco Leopold Layer.

Curaduría, curator: @laure_tell. Gestionado por, Hosted by: @leica_camera @leica_camera_austria@pradofernanda. Espacio, location: @layerjevahisa

Today is the last day to see my work at the Kranj Foto Fest in Slovenia, and I’m still over the moon about the space of that exhibition, the Layer House, an 18th-century house that belonged to the baroque painter Leopold Layer.

Hoy es el último día para visitar mi trabajo en el Kranj Foto Fest en Eslovenia y todavía sigo soñando con el espacio de esa exposición 🩶 The Layer House una casa del siglo XVIII que perteneció al pintor barroco Leopold Layer.

Curaduría, curator: @laure_tell. Gestionado por, Hosted by: @leica_camera @leica_camera_austria@pradofernanda. Espacio, location: @layerjevahisa

Today is the last day to see my work at the Kranj Foto Fest in Slovenia, and I’m still over the moon about the space of that exhibition, the Layer House, an 18th-century house that belonged to the baroque painter Leopold Layer.

Hoy es el último día para visitar mi trabajo en el Kranj Foto Fest en Eslovenia y todavía sigo soñando con el espacio de esa exposición 🩶 The Layer House una casa del siglo XVIII que perteneció al pintor barroco Leopold Layer.

Curaduría, curator: @laure_tell. Gestionado por, Hosted by: @leica_camera @leica_camera_austria@pradofernanda. Espacio, location: @layerjevahisa

Today is the last day to see my work at the Kranj Foto Fest in Slovenia, and I’m still over the moon about the space of that exhibition, the Layer House, an 18th-century house that belonged to the baroque painter Leopold Layer.

Hoy es el último día para visitar mi trabajo en el Kranj Foto Fest en Eslovenia y todavía sigo soñando con el espacio de esa exposición 🩶 The Layer House una casa del siglo XVIII que perteneció al pintor barroco Leopold Layer.

Curaduría, curator: @laure_tell. Gestionado por, Hosted by: @leica_camera @leica_camera_austria@pradofernanda. Espacio, location: @layerjevahisa

Today is the last day to see my work at the Kranj Foto Fest in Slovenia, and I’m still over the moon about the space of that exhibition, the Layer House, an 18th-century house that belonged to the baroque painter Leopold Layer.

Gracias al @icp en cooperación con @paulfuscoestate por confiar en mí e invitarme a estudiar en esta gran escuela!

Durante el próximo año viviré en NYC con los brazos y la mente atentos para aprender de esta ciudad.

Profunda gratitud con mi familia y las personas que me han acompañado en este camino (ustedes saben quienes son). Desde un mensaje, una carta de recomendación, hasta esperar paciente por mí afuera de una embajada en una ciudad ajena, gracias. 🖤

Thanks to @icp in cooperation with @paulfuscoestate for trusting me and inviting me to study at this amazing school!

Over the next year, I’ll be living in New York with open arms and an open mind, ready to learn from this city.

Deep gratitude to my family and to those who have been part of this journey (you know who you are). From a message, a letter of recommendation, to patiently waiting for me outside an embassy in a foreign city, thank you 🖤

Gracias al @icp en cooperación con @paulfuscoestate por confiar en mí e invitarme a estudiar en esta gran escuela!

Durante el próximo año viviré en NYC con los brazos y la mente atentos para aprender de esta ciudad.

Profunda gratitud con mi familia y las personas que me han acompañado en este camino (ustedes saben quienes son). Desde un mensaje, una carta de recomendación, hasta esperar paciente por mí afuera de una embajada en una ciudad ajena, gracias. 🖤

Thanks to @icp in cooperation with @paulfuscoestate for trusting me and inviting me to study at this amazing school!

Over the next year, I’ll be living in New York with open arms and an open mind, ready to learn from this city.

Deep gratitude to my family and to those who have been part of this journey (you know who you are). From a message, a letter of recommendation, to patiently waiting for me outside an embassy in a foreign city, thank you 🖤

Gracias al @icp en cooperación con @paulfuscoestate por confiar en mí e invitarme a estudiar en esta gran escuela!

Durante el próximo año viviré en NYC con los brazos y la mente atentos para aprender de esta ciudad.

Profunda gratitud con mi familia y las personas que me han acompañado en este camino (ustedes saben quienes son). Desde un mensaje, una carta de recomendación, hasta esperar paciente por mí afuera de una embajada en una ciudad ajena, gracias. 🖤

Thanks to @icp in cooperation with @paulfuscoestate for trusting me and inviting me to study at this amazing school!

Over the next year, I’ll be living in New York with open arms and an open mind, ready to learn from this city.

Deep gratitude to my family and to those who have been part of this journey (you know who you are). From a message, a letter of recommendation, to patiently waiting for me outside an embassy in a foreign city, thank you 🖤

Gracias al @icp en cooperación con @paulfuscoestate por confiar en mí e invitarme a estudiar en esta gran escuela!

Durante el próximo año viviré en NYC con los brazos y la mente atentos para aprender de esta ciudad.

Profunda gratitud con mi familia y las personas que me han acompañado en este camino (ustedes saben quienes son). Desde un mensaje, una carta de recomendación, hasta esperar paciente por mí afuera de una embajada en una ciudad ajena, gracias. 🖤

Thanks to @icp in cooperation with @paulfuscoestate for trusting me and inviting me to study at this amazing school!

Over the next year, I’ll be living in New York with open arms and an open mind, ready to learn from this city.

Deep gratitude to my family and to those who have been part of this journey (you know who you are). From a message, a letter of recommendation, to patiently waiting for me outside an embassy in a foreign city, thank you 🖤

Gracias al @icp en cooperación con @paulfuscoestate por confiar en mí e invitarme a estudiar en esta gran escuela!

Durante el próximo año viviré en NYC con los brazos y la mente atentos para aprender de esta ciudad.

Profunda gratitud con mi familia y las personas que me han acompañado en este camino (ustedes saben quienes son). Desde un mensaje, una carta de recomendación, hasta esperar paciente por mí afuera de una embajada en una ciudad ajena, gracias. 🖤

Thanks to @icp in cooperation with @paulfuscoestate for trusting me and inviting me to study at this amazing school!

Over the next year, I’ll be living in New York with open arms and an open mind, ready to learn from this city.

Deep gratitude to my family and to those who have been part of this journey (you know who you are). From a message, a letter of recommendation, to patiently waiting for me outside an embassy in a foreign city, thank you 🖤

Gracias al @icp en cooperación con @paulfuscoestate por confiar en mí e invitarme a estudiar en esta gran escuela!

Durante el próximo año viviré en NYC con los brazos y la mente atentos para aprender de esta ciudad.

Profunda gratitud con mi familia y las personas que me han acompañado en este camino (ustedes saben quienes son). Desde un mensaje, una carta de recomendación, hasta esperar paciente por mí afuera de una embajada en una ciudad ajena, gracias. 🖤

Thanks to @icp in cooperation with @paulfuscoestate for trusting me and inviting me to study at this amazing school!

Over the next year, I’ll be living in New York with open arms and an open mind, ready to learn from this city.

Deep gratitude to my family and to those who have been part of this journey (you know who you are). From a message, a letter of recommendation, to patiently waiting for me outside an embassy in a foreign city, thank you 🖤

Análisis iconográficos a mi alrededor. Apuntes sobre el cosmos en Amozoc.
-
I came into the world under the sign of Saturn -the star of the slowest revolution, the planet of detours and delays.
Walter Benjamin

Iconographic analysis around me. Notes on the cosmos in Amozoc.

Análisis iconográficos a mi alrededor. Apuntes sobre el cosmos en Amozoc.
-
I came into the world under the sign of Saturn -the star of the slowest revolution, the planet of detours and delays.
Walter Benjamin

Iconographic analysis around me. Notes on the cosmos in Amozoc.

Análisis iconográficos a mi alrededor. Apuntes sobre el cosmos en Amozoc.
-
I came into the world under the sign of Saturn -the star of the slowest revolution, the planet of detours and delays.
Walter Benjamin

Iconographic analysis around me. Notes on the cosmos in Amozoc.

#Leica100. La memoria también habita en la tierra. 🌋📸

En su serie “Raíz hambre”, Sara Meneses (@cuapiomsara) explora la muerte del bosque y la memoria ancestral del volcán Matlalcuéyetl en Tlaxcala, tierra de su linaje familiar.

Una mirada profunda sobre lo que se pierde cuando se destruye el territorio, y sobre las huellas que persisten en la naturaleza herida.

🔴 Visita el fotomuro de “La mirada esencial” y sumérgete en esta reflexión visual hasta el 17 de agosto.

📍 Centro de la Imagen @cimagen