Reactivated my Squarespace this weekend. I’d canceled my subscription months ago, convinced Substack might be a better home after hearing YouTube photographers hype it as the “next Instagram” for visual creators. But once I dove in, I realized those currents run fast—and they favor a certain kind of talent and timing. There are hundreds of incredible photographers on there now, many of whom have earned their followings. A few posts were enough to show me that whatever I was putting out simply wasn’t going to surface in that sea. Accepting that took some humility, but truth has a way of tapping your shoulder until you face it.
At Cuemanco in Xochimilco, where my wife and I often wander on slow Sunday mornings or chase the warm glow of golden hour.
My son and his dog lounging on the couch outside our house as dusk settled in—him smoking, lost in his phone, the night easing open around them.
Every so often, the streets toss you a punchline. This guy delivered it without saying a word.
She showed up dressed head-to-toe in black, cradling a tiny satanic-looking plush—but swore she wasn’t a satanist. “I just like the vibe,” she said. How could I not stop for that?
So I cleared out the handful of posts I’d shared, took a breath, and returned to the quieter space of my own blog under a new domain.
I can’t afford photography school, and I’m probably past the age where finding a mentor feels realistic. So I’ve kept walking this path alone, as I have for more than a decade—learning, stumbling, doubting, and still somehow refusing to put the camera down. Why? Because the moment I step outside, the world starts speaking in light. And how do you turn away from that? How do you ignore something that pulls you forward again and again?
I go where the light leads—sometimes with a camera, sometimes without, but preferably with one so I can try to catch not just what I see, but what it makes me feel. Maybe someone out there will feel it too.
So I’m back here, in a space that’s mine—free from the push to please an algorithm or chase attention I’m not built for. Maybe a few people will stop by; maybe not. But in this corner of the internet, I get to experiment, fail, grow, and keep walking toward whatever the light shows me next.
Silhouettes and sky colliding in a reflection outside the cathedral—an ordinary moment turned upside down.
A soldier holding his trumpet, watching his fellow soldiers complete the flag-lowering ceremony in the Zócalo.
A hushed slice of 5 de Mayo in black and white, captured on a Sunday afternoon as the sun drifted lower.
Silhouettes moving through Eje Central and Juárez, the low golden-hour light sharpening every outline in black and white.
Soldiers marching toward the flag in the Zócalo as they prepare to lower it for the day.
I don’t often shoot from behind, but his hat, his clothes, and that quiet walk toward the Templo Mayor stopped me.
Nash taking a hit from her pipe, holding the little ET I’d given her—just one of those easy, in-between moments during our photo session.
A small Pride parade with big energy—condoms flying into the crowd and laughter everywhere.