LÚA

Year: 2024-Ongoing

Location: Guadarrama national park, MADRID (Spain)

A reflection on change, identity, and the light of life.

Just like Everything That Changes, the arrival of Lúa has been a turning point, the beginning of a new phase marked by the purest love I have ever known. My daughter was born in August this year, and her arrival has been, without a doubt, the most wild and transformative thing I’ve ever done in my life. More than just an event, her arrival has brought about a deep and personal change in my identity and the way I see the world. Lúa is redefining who I am, how I think, and, above all, how I see myself as an artist.

In the quiet moments before the storm, I embarked on a journey to find my inner strength, to awaken the natural power that had always been within me. With each breath, I sought to reconnect with the earth beneath me, grounding myself in a rhythm older than time itself. It was as if my body, my soul, and the universe were speaking a language that needed no words, a song of strength, resilience, and trust.

There are days when my body feels unfamiliar, but in its vulnerability, I discover a new resilience. These physical changes remind me that transformation happens not only in the soul but also in the flesh. My body, now attuned to new needs, reflects the cycle of life, death, and rebirth—a process that connects me even more to the very essence of existence.

This body that has been reshaped is now a bridge between what was and what is yet to come, a space of constant transformation.

The days that followed, in the tender hours of the puerperium, were both beautiful and brutal. It is a truth rarely spoken, the vulnerability that comes with caring for a tiny life while your own body is unraveling, weary from the battle. The weight of motherhood was heavy, yet it brought with it an unspoken strength. My body was weak, but my spirit burned brighter than ever, fueled by an instinct so powerful that it transcended everything I had known.

In those sacred moments, when time seemed to stand still, I found myself in a state of meditation, a retreat from the world, connected to my child in a way I never thought possible. It was a communion, not just between mother and child, but between soul and existence — a connection so profound that it was almost surreal, as if all the noise of the world faded into nothingness, leaving only the purest, most vulnerable part of me.

Through her gestures, her movements, and the light that surrounds her during each stage of her growth, I’ve found inspiration I never imagined. Day by day, I’ve been captivated by her ability to transform the ordinary into something extraordinary. Her small moments, sitting on the same couch, on the same rock, bathed in different lights, as the seasons change, have become the true engine of my creativity.

What initially seemed like an external idea, something distant, transformed into an internal, profound search, which continues to grow with every gesture, every glance, and every laugh of Lúa. She, unknowingly, is the source of this new vision, the light that illuminates not only our home but also my artistic practice.

(the one who gives light to darkness)