Let me tell you why I do this work.
I grew up in Puerto Rico and left home at nineteen to learn how to make pictures.
What followed were fifteen years spent between fashion and fine art, shaping the way
I see light, movement, composition, and all the little details that can make an image feel like something more. Eventually, that way of seeing found its way into weddings.
Today, I’m based in Barcelona, but I still feel very much between worlds — Caribbean
and Mediterranean, fashion and family, the considered and the completely spontaneous. I think my work lives somewhere in that in-between too: photographs with an editorial eye, but always grounded in real people, real relationships, and the things that happen when no one is performing for the camera.
The photograph I almost didn't have.
My best friend took it on my iPhone.
We got married in 2020, in the early months of the pandemic, when weddings—and life in general—looked very different. There were masks and distance, and almost no one we loved could be in the room with us. At the time, I think we were simply grateful that we got to get married at all. It wasn't until later that I began to understand what we didn't have.
There are no photographs of the morning before. None of the little things I can't quite remember anymore. I don't have an image of my husband's face when he first saw me, or of the people who managed to be there together. There are so many moments I can still feel, but can't see.
And then there's this photograph.
It's an iPhone photo. It isn't technically perfect, beautifully lit, or carefully composed. But none of that matters to me. I would never trade it for anything, because it takes me back to a day I can't otherwise return to. It reminds me that we were there, that this happened, that this was us.
I think that's why I understand the weight of wedding photographs the way I do now. Of course I want to make beautiful images—I spent years learning how to do exactly that. But beauty isn't the part that becomes more valuable with time. The way someone looked at you, the people who filled the room, the hands you held, the things you didn't even notice happening around you—that's the part that does.
Maybe that's why I photograph weddings with such care. I know what it feels like to wish there were more.
A little life, in photographs
A wedding is a day. The photographs are how it becomes a memory.
