I have been alone at home for weeks due to the pandemic, some days seem the same, some others don't. Sometimes hours are reduced to minutes, some others minutes seem to stretch into hours. The present feels like an eternity and, at the same time, I feel more vulnerable than ever.
The alarm still rings early in the morning and, even though time doesn't matter since there is nowhere to go, the endless pressure to "be someone" persists. I convince myself that productivity is the key, inmersing myself in tasks, believing that staying busy makes everything pass faster, rather than facing the fear and uncertainty.
I strive to live in the moment but rarely have success. As days pass, my perception of time changes and the need to control it manifests itself. Photography becomes my anchor, pulling me out of the monotony and compelling me to look beyond the same four walls.
Isolation has allowed me to revisit the past through the house I have lived in since birth. Also, I’ve been able to challenge my beliefs through a nonstop introspective process. In my heart ,I recognized the necessity to pause and find myself in the emptiness.