Memories in Photographs 

There are lives that can be told in words.

And there are moments that would rather remain in images.

These photographs move through different phases of my story: the girl, the woman, the simple days, the moments of joy, the silences, the encounters, and the small instants that, somehow, remained within me.

Each image holds more than a moment or an occasion.

It holds a time, an experience, a feeling, a version of myself that existed in that moment and continues to be part of the woman I am today.

Gathering these photographs is also a way of revisiting my own life.

It is looking back without ceasing to move forward.

Because some memories do not grow old.

They simply learn to make their home within us.

These photographs are not here to celebrate an appearance, nor to construct an image of glamour, but to record and give shape to my own narrative.

Because sometimes we need an image to remind us of what memory, for some reason, was unable to keep.

I am not saying, “Look at everything I have done.”

I am not here to appear grand or beautiful, but because a writer is also made of the women who existed before her.

They are here because of the absence of photographs from my childhood. An absence of the person I once was. And perhaps because of that, I grew up with a feeling that was difficult to explain: the feeling of not having existed during that time.

Later, photographing myself became a way of recognizing myself.

Each photograph was a small, silent testimony: I was here. I lived this moment. This body passed through this time. This woman existed.

That is why these images are not merely photographs.

They are fragments of presence.

Some record adolescence; others, photo shoots, theater, book launches, interviews, and different moments of my life. Those moments of ease when I could simply be myself.

Together, they do not seek to tell a story of perfection, but a story of existence.

Perhaps that is why I kept so many of them.

Now, in maturity, I am saying: this is the journey that brought me here, this is where I am, and there is still something within me waiting to be born.

I am not simply organizing photographs; I am making room for and honoring the woman I was, the woman I am, and the woman who is still being born.

I exist.

Adolescence 

Photo Shoots 

My Special Moments

Theater Workshops and Rehearsals

Theater Production — The Government Inspector — (Nikolai Gogol)

Sganarelle by Molière — Classical Comedy

The Adventures of Monica

Wanda in Many Artistic Languages

Portraits of My Present