In Other Eyes

These photos are part of a personal project, which tries to reflect the reaction of certain people to the reading of the same text, which was written by me almost a year ago and where I had some situations that I had to live as a child and not so much.

The abuses are many more common than one can imagine, the tears in their eyes, their looks, their gestures, suggest that the portrayed lived something similar or similar. The empathy between the photographer and the portrayed, unknown until the session, is almost immediate. Silence, anguish, talk without stopping for a second, tears, again silence. Everything can happen, each one reacts differently to my story. That perhaps inside they transported them to their history.


Maybe later I will regret about this, but there are days when everything is very difficult for me. Probably most of you wouldn´t know it but I cry a lot, usually in silence trying nobody realize what happen to me. I often do it when I listen a phrase of a song. And that make me think if something so simple as a phrase of a song can make my world fell down like a playing cards castle, imagine what can I feel when I see injustices on the television or in newspapers.

I´ve always tried to find a reason or justification to explain what happen to me but I´ve never discovered which were the real causes that make me be this way, that sometimes make me feel like I want to disappear and move away from everything and everybody.

Perhaps my home is the only place where I feel safe, where I believe that nothing can happen to me. However, staying there can become the worst decision because I ended cutting myself off the world, including all the people who love me.

Surely it´s that piece of crap´s fault that put me inside a car pointing at me with a gun when I was only an adolescent of fourteen or fifteen years old. He did every Little thing he wanted with me, destroying my being in all possible ways, making me feel ashamed about what had happened, humiliated and devastated. I haven´t been able to talk about this for a lot of years. He also made me think that everything would have been better if he had pressed the trigger of that gun. Or maybe I was like that? I don´t think so.

It seems very clear for me that I have a lot of fears (so many perhaps) and that they paralyze me and impede me doing one of the things I most love: taking photos.

I´m a very complicated person, hard to reach, hard to accept himself, distrustful of everything, bad tempered, grunt and surly.

However, you can´t imagine how much I need the warmth of people who love me. This week should be one of the happiest of the year because I´ve been selected to be part in the Francisco Ayerra Photography Incentive Prize once again. Thanks to those “winks in life” that put in front of me a “Mr.” Professor and also a huge person that helped me enjoying everything I do.

Even so, I´m alone at home, with tears in my eyes caused by personal situations because sometimes we wait for things to happen that will never occur.

Three years ago, I had a gun in my head again, this time because of a theft and I remember that I´ve thought a lot of times that everything could have been better if I´ve Heard the explosion. However, I´m sure that all this I am today, entire or in pieces, is because of that piece of crap. Today I celebrate the existence of such a huge movement that fights against that type of acts and in defense of the victims. I wish judges and people who judge the victims would someday realize that those girls and boys could have been their sons and daughters. Maybe you would receive them in a bag or perhaps you will have them alive, sitting next to you but with their feelings destroyed.

6th December 2018.