In August 2017, on an attempt to escape from my most quotidian self, I embarked on a 6,000 mile road trip across the USA: from New York City to San Francisco, and back.
I was broke, both emotionally and economically, but even so, I carelessly took the decision to hit the road, alone, with the sole company of my camera, seeking the rare comfort of going deep into the unknown: towards unknown roads, cities, landscapes, people.
I drove with no other purpose than to constantly move forward. My body got, soon, accustomed to the speed of the car, and the changes on the light and the landscape, but my mind was feeling fuzzy. It was only by the end of every stage, when I would crash at the cheapest motels along the way, that I was able to find quietness.
After long hours on the road, the tottering contrast between the rapidity of the drive and the stillness of the bedrooms, put me in what I found was the ideal state of mind to jump in front of the camera. Using self-portraiture as a mirror, I hoped to reveal something new, a new self I could get along with, and with whom I might grow in intimacy.