San Cristobal de Las Casas, Mexico, 2011
Some cities I have been to are like former lovers.I rarely talk about them and even if I can barely remember their shape, their exact location, I stole from them some details that I buried deep inside my chest. As places and experiences belong together, sometime it's hard to talk about a certain place without revealing too much about what happened, about your own fears and desires. Somehow it becomes a taboo or your “madeleine de Proust”. In both cases, those places and embodied memories are so intimate and fragile that you prefer avoiding the topic, thinking it's better left unsaid.
I remember I just turned 21 when I decided to follow someone in Mexico, willing to experience something new, feeling something “real”.
Looking at those pictures I took more than 3 years ago unlocks tiny anecdotes, reminiscence of an emotional tsunami. After we left the surrealistic and gigantic Mexico City, we stayed for quite some time (I cannot remember how long) in the Chiapas surrounded by mountains. I had a strange feeling there, extremely frustrated and uncomfortable and at the same time, amazed by the beauty surrounding us.