Collective Pain

Serum drops measure the time in pavilions of discomfort and collective pain. Men and women dressed in white roam through corridors beset by disease and suffering. These are the public hospitals of many cities often times rich and poor alike. Rows of beds like a military camp house the unfortunate that struggle day and night to recover their voice and words that had been taken up by complaints and laments. Smells and rumors come in stampedes and they persistently stay. Pain, agony and dead are no longer individual and they are shared by all. There is no place to rest and frequently the sick themselves become pillows. Physical pains are converted into emotional and spiritual griefs. Closeness propagates rumors and despair. There is a collective learning of death and a general teaching to be brave. The images presented depict this form of collective pain.

I am preparing a book of photography entitled “Streets of the World and their People”. I like to travel and encounter the world with its streets and its people, but the part that corresponds to my interest, my vision and philosophy of life. My photos are a look at someone's world, a journey into their space and their life; an attempt to build a story without affection, as part of a social commitment. Visual stories that intersect in the streets and in their plurality create a certain connection; a new sense. These images can be regard, a hand, a detail, a fixed temporality that captures move