In the dark corner of my heart, where the shadows of uncertainty danced with the lights of exploration, I have asked countless times what defines my photographic process. I call it a "process" because, in some way, I find it difficult to bestow upon myself the title of a photographer/artist. When does one become that? What qualities make up the soul of a photographer or an artist? I still don't have the answers, and I continue to search tirelessly. However, on this journey of exploration, I have discovered and nurtured my own voice.

Since my childhood, this passion has nestled itself in my soul. It was my father who handed me a camera at the age of 8, and from that moment on, I never let it go. Photography became my refuge, the perfect avenue to escape from a world that often felt distant and hostile. Through my lens, I began to weave stories, create alternate realities, and capture moments that existed only in my dreams.

Over the years, I have traversed a tortuous path in search of my voice. I have explored every corner of my creativity, but I have always felt like a guest at my own table. Today, after many seasons on this journey, I finally find myself in my own images. I can feel my emotions clamoring in every capture, delicately observe the scars that life has left on my skin, and, above all, release my fears.

Since my youth, I have carried the burden of several episodes of abuse. My body became a battleground early on, and society seemed to have opinions about it even before I could comprehend its vulnerability. That vulnerability, that feeling, was always present, palpable but indecipherable. The camera became my silent ally, my confidant.

After an episode that marked my life indelibly, I decided to take control of my own body. It was then that, without realizing it, I began to take self-portraits. I wanted to feel that deep connection with my body through the lens. I desired to explore the multiple dimensions that resided within it and feel that I had the power to decide how to present it to the world. In each self-portrait, I discovered a new fragment of myself, a hidden facet, an unspoken emotion.

This quest, this exploration of my being through photography, is a journey that will never reach its final destination because I have learned to love the language of all bodies. I have developed the ability to understand that silent language, to read what each body has to tell, and to find beauty in their stories, regardless of gender or form.

My primary pursuit centers on self-portraiture, on the connection with my own essence, on breaking free from the stereotypes that society has imposed upon me. In each image, in each click of the shutter, I discover a new nuance of my infinite self. I observe my changes day by day and learn to appreciate them, to celebrate them as a symphony in constant evolution.

And I cannot deny that, in my journey, I have found the same beauty in the bodies of others, regardless of their gender. Photography has granted me the ability to convey the deepest intimacy and the darkest secrets without uttering a single word. In each image, I find the truth of our souls, the vulnerability that unites us all as human beings.

So, though I still wrestle with the uncertainty of whether I deserve to call myself a photographer, I know that in each image I capture, in each self-portrait I create, I am writing my own story. A story of rediscovery, healing, self-love, and, above all, of finding the infinite within myself and in others.