Pueblo

This project is deeply personal. It explains a phenomenon that takes place in a familiar reality that defines us. It is an experience I have lived since I became self-aware.

My grandmother Emilia was born in a tiny village in Segovia called Villoslada, in 1937. She was born specifically in the house where we now sleep. Both my grandmother and the house are of advanced age; my grandmother keeps holding on, but the house does not—it is falling apart.

August 16th is the village festivity, the day of San Roque. The day begins with mass, followed by a procession through the village, and then we eat roast suckling pig. That day is exactly the same every year; only the people’s appearance changes—some come, others go—and the price of the pig.

In 2025, seeing that the end might be near, I decided to photograph this experience, trying to capture how the idea remains while matter is lost. Observing how humans surrender ourselves to rituals, to methods, to solid structures. Believing in something is what drives us.

The material changes, while the ideas we believe in are capable of remaining strong and crossing through time.

2025