top of page

After relocating to Dallas, Texas, two and a half years ago, my outsider's perspective on the ordinary led to a local portrait. The commonplace and sometimes banal reality inspired my curiosity and excitement about everyday life and people.

Initially, I was drawn to the food signs lining the highways, but I struggled with mixed emotions about the fast-food industry and its potential impact on my family's health. The thought of succumbing to its temptations as part of our daily routine filled me with dread for our future well-being in America.


At first, I sought to distill the signs' impact by capturing simplistic images of nothing but blue skies juxtaposed with a solitary sign. However, over time, monotony set in, prompting me to delve deeper, searching for narratives imbued with subtle nuances. This shift allowed me to cultivate a greater tolerance for the fast-food issue while striving to embrace compassion for the complexities of my emotions towards it.

Then, I found the courage to engage with locals, experiencing uniquely human encounters. The farther we ventured from the Dallas suburbs, the more profound and unexpected these connections became. Each encounter felt like an unforeseen gift, with warm-hearted individuals graciously sharing honest moments from their lives. In their stories, I found echoes of my own experiences, reaffirming my sense of belonging and reigniting my appreciation for simple human connections that had long defined my identity. These interactions breathed new life into me, reminding me of the vitality that comes from genuine human connection. From each journey where I dared to draw closer, I returned home with another kindred spirit in my heart, realizing that perhaps we are not so different after all.


Ranch's gates soon captured my attention, impossible to ignore as they punctuated our family travels time and again. My hesitation in approaching them, fearing I might transgress some unforbidden line, attracted my interest about the people whose personal stories I could only create in imagination through symbols, words, materials, fonts, and shapes. The gate evolved in my mind as a framework to the lives beyond it.

Bob Dylan once said: “Gates appeal to me because of the negative space they allow. They can be closed but at the same time, they allow the seasons and breezes to enter and flow. They can shut you out or shut you in. And in some ways there is no difference.” 

I guess I cannot help but wonder about the Ranch's gates I did not capture, the human stories I left untold, and the witty food signs I overlooked. Yet, in the grand scheme of things, perhaps, as Dylan once said, these regrets pale in comparison to the once-in-a-lifetime experiences I did embrace and will continue to seek for.

Grateful for being among the fantastic photographers who was chosen to be featured in the international Lens Magazine for fine art photography and to share "Sightings" in ‏issue #113 "The Portrait" |  February 2024 |

bottom of page