When we close our eyes and ask: what is love? (2023)

I will write it in the simplest way. But it is not easy. I make an effort. I draw a line and then I erase it. I get confused. They say images and words create coherence and meaning. But linearity almost killed me in its fiction. It was the same with Barbara. I met her when I arrived in Mexico through a mutual friend. Face to face, we developed a strong connection because of the stories we share about our past seven-year straight relationships. About men who controlled our money. And our minds. The way out. The break-up. The awareness of a non-narrative. Visually, the photographs are captured in different ways: natural light, flash, camera and cyber-photo. And they're a mix of actions in which we interpret the discomfort of romantic attachment. Or scenes that spontaneously arise from sexual relationships and from the moments among friends. The outcome is a chaotic universe bound by strangeness, mistakes, imperfections. In a journey to invent life on our own terms. Valuing the sharing among women as an act of resistance against a society that, even though we have different nationalities, perpetuates the alienation and relativity of the violence we suffer from men: as if it were love