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Red Blood # 1

If there is one constant in the life of a photographer, it is the thousands and thousands of encounters, some of them fleeting, whose permanence in the memory is based on the photograph taken, and others accompanied by long conversations or true stories lived in common.

Be that as it may, when someone enters the frame, when you manage to catch that split second by mocking time itself, what has just happened there, inevitably becomes part of yourself.

Maybe we don't share a way of life, religion or country, but, no matter how much time has passed, they all accompany me wherever I am and, even though they are blurred by the passage of time, they populate my memories. Almost without realising it, they have ceased to be "the others"; they are something like my extended family.

We tend to focus on the where and the how, and perhaps we should focus our attention on the who?

Certainly, we share neither country nor language nor religion, but the blood that flows through our veins has the same red colour and perhaps that should be enough.

In a certain sense, the photographer's job is none other than to compose stories where the central character and various visual clues (social, economic, geographical...) weave a tapestry of sensations, of emotions, that give voice to that story.

However, these clues, on many occasions, turn against us, forcing a subtle and unconscious prejudice about what we contemplate.

The purpose of this series of portraits is precisely that: the decontextualization, the elimination (as far as possible) of those clues ( including deliberately concise titles ) that paradoxically take us away from the true essence of the model. A decontextualization that initially throws us into uncertainty (where? when? how?) but that finally pushes us to focus on the essence of the human being in front of us.


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