I was born at a very young age in San José, Costa Rica. My grandma—who wasn’t really mine—kept telling me I was the son of a Gypsy, or a vagabond, or something along those lines. I didn’t have much, and whatever I did have, I’m pretty sure I lost during one of the many moves.

It didn’t take long for me to grow older, and by the age of 15, I was tall enough to be on TV. Later than sooner, that event sparked a passionate passion for cameras, lights, and free snacks.

Eventually I ended up in Amsterdam, where I decided to become a photographer after a Pantera concert. Not long after, I started my own metal fanzine, which somehow landed me back on TV, and then into film. I even scored an honorable mention at the 2000 Costa Rican Film Festival, which opened the door to Film School at Cinecittà Studios in Rome and later Dutch TV. But after a while, life pulled me back to Costa Rica, where I worked as the photo editor for the political and financial newspaper La República. After a million photos (and way too much coffee), I took off again—this time for Greece, where I tried to grow a beard and live off the sea. But the 2018 crisis had other plans.

So once again, I packed my bags and with a little push from B, I moved to New York and joined ICP (no, not the Insane Clown Posse). Having finished and well aware of the monumental task I had taken on, it took me two full years to recover. Out of that whirlwind came this collection of images and thoughts you now hold in your hands.

As that little Gypsy kid, I never imagined the road would twist this way. Yet every detour left me with stories, scars, and a few decent pictures. This collection is proof that the journey was worth it—though honestly, the free snacks weren’t bad either.