



































A Photo Anthology:
Body of Water
Body of Water brings together collections of photos captured over the years, all on analog film and interconnected by a single theme: exploring the human body and water.
Each project documents a personal search for presence and transformation, using the fluidity of water as both a visual and emotional mirror.
The work is guided by a desire to express to the world moments of beauty, tenderness, and silent introspection.












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The Lighthouse
(09)
September 2017
His name was João. We met at a gallery, started talking about photography, and suddenly I was sitting in a park with all of his friends, eating snacks and trying to follow their fast, joyful Portuguese. I didn’t understand every word, but I understood the warmth. This is a visual diary of my time in Portugal, the first journey I took on my own.

01
The abandoned castle João showed me

02
The view from the castle window

03
The beach by the castle shapes a human landscape

04
João Stood on a Bridge as the Sun Set

05
The Roman Bridge at Praia dos Estudantes

06
Tróia Peninsula, facing the Atlantic Ocean

07
Mary’s Hidden Altar in a Seaside Cave

08
I gazed from the cliff at a couple in the endless sea

09
The river met the sea, creating wild beauty
After The Sun
(12)
June 2024
Later, when I looked at the photographs again, I realized it wasn’t just the light or the sea behind you. It was the way your presence held the silence, how the air seemed heavier near you, slower. That’s the kind of memory no camera should be able to keep. But this one did.













August 2018
Hidden Tides
(10)
Dead Sea With Michael
(10)
August 2019


There’s something magical about introducing someone you love to a place that lives in your bones. The Dead Sea has always held a strange, quiet power over me, its stillness, its impossible salt, its shimmering light. One Summer, I took Michael there.
Michael is a dear friend from the UK, and over the years, he’s become more like family. Every time he visits, we find ourselves on some wild adventure. Driving through forgotten roads, climbing into ancient ruins, or chasing light through the old streets of Jerusalem. And I always bring my camera. I’ve been photographing Michael for years now. He’s more than a subject. He’s part of the story I’m trying to tell about wonder, connection, and fearlessness.



This trip felt different. Maybe it was the low winter sun or the silence that stretched for miles. Maybe it was just time. I wanted him to see the place not as a tourist sees it, but as I do. As somewhere that holds weight, history, contradiction. Beauty and decay. Life and stillness.



We arrived just as the golden hour began to bloom. The salt formations sparkled like frost under the sun, and the air was thick with minerals. Michael walked ahead, barefoot and fearless, as always. I followed, camera in hand, capturing the way he moved through the landscape—like someone stepping into a dream.
Later, we floated together, laughing like kids, covered in salt and mud. We made portraits there, in that surreal world, and I could see something in Michael’s eyes I hadn’t captured before. A kind of reverence. Or maybe it was reflection.



When I look back at the images, I see more than a trip. I see a conversation between us, between my lens and his trust, between this land and our shared courage to explore it with open hearts.
This is what photography is to me. A bridge. A map. A way to say “this is how I see you. This is how I see this place. Come, let’s remember it together.”

Closing
(09)
I chose to live by the sea. The pull toward that endless horizon comes from a deep need to leave the city behind and look outward, toward something wider, quieter, unknown. The infinite space allows me to create. Out there, the connection between human and nature feels powerful, almost spiritual.

















