Home portraits

Images of my childhood home

In retrospect the parents’ home, where I grew up, where the game became my world; it is delivered today with a completed cycle. Letting go of the security of the paternal and maternal home brings the pain of losing part of childhood in letting go of the physical space. These portraits of the house on any given day serve to remember that house of the child that today gives up the memory. With love these walls were my den for many years.

These portraits will remember her forever.

Few things can be called harsh, not only in terms of constitution but also painful. But without a doubt deliver the house that brings 50 years of history, where you were born and raised. Where your old men made their home and gave you a world. Where you, from living with the house your 50 years of life in which you are a fundamental pillar, you deliver the foundation of your constitution.

So hard. It lasted 50 years and it was hard to close them. With the house empty, you wonder about the memory of its space and its objects. They are remembered. The memories you build by reimagining the steps of childhood.

These images of the void complete the circle. Empty inside to be sealed. Now memories are thrown to turn it into a screen for the strands that constitute you.