Artist Statement and Biography​

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Statement

I’ve never been drawn to fiction. Reality has always felt far stranger, more layered, more absurd than anything we could imagine. As a child, I was obsessed with nature documentaries. What fascinated me wasn’t just the information, but the idea that a camera could reveal the secrets of a lifeform. You could witness rituals, fears, desires, things that would never be visible otherwise. I remember hearing David Attenborough say he was reluctant to document humans, because to do so truthfully, you’d have to film everything, which he considered unethical. As a kid I found that frustrating since I wanted to understand humans as well as I understood animals. 

Photography was my way in, I have a terrible memory, and taking pictures became a way to keep things from slipping. Most photographs are preceded by a quiet “huh” or a small chuckle, I’m attracted to things that land in that strange space between sense and nonsense. Growing up in Mexico I was exposed to its unintentional nonsensical landscape, the streets and homes are filled with coping mechanism and contradictions, that's where I learned to find those moments, document them and distill them.

Humor is a key part of that process, not as entertainment but as a tool to cut through surface logic and expose what’s underneath. Humor, when used well, holds deep insight, it lets complexity stay complex.

One of the most revealing moments of my life came while playing hide and seek with my niece. She was four. I started counting, turned around, and found her lying flat on the floor, face down, covering her eyes, she was in fact invisible. That moment contained everything: logic, innocence, absurdity, belief. It was funny, but also strangely perfect. These are the moments I return to in my practice, the everyday windows that allow me to document humans ethically.