Hello there 👋

As I mentioned in the previous dispatch, summer was a time for me to pause and reflect. As someone who struggles with focus and tends to keep many threads open, I felt it was the right moment to reconsider my creative outlet and photographic direction.

Over time, I’ve made peace with starting projects and letting them go after a while; it is just part of the process. It is still something that doesn’t come naturally, but I’m much better at it than before.

So what?

Lately, I’ve felt the need for a clearer purpose and a steadier rhythm for this newsletter. I want these words to be more than just a mirror of my journal; I want them to serve as a way to connect with you more intimately.

That’s why I’m excited to welcome you to the first dispatch of Limen!

You might be wondering: Limen?!

“Limen” is a word that indicate a space in-between, the threshold between one thing and another. In this case, between my inner and outer worlds, between what I see and what I feel.

The content will remain similar to the one you received so far: a mix of reflections, photos, and updates on what’s happening in my life.

The biggest difference is the rhythm: I’ll now be sending it out on the last Sunday of each month. It will be my way to wind down the past month and salute the new one.

I hope you’ll enjoy this new format.

Welcome to Limen.

Since last time I wrote you, apart from these reflections, I’ve been traveling around Sicily in a van with my partner, and dealing with assignments from the New Documentary Photography Master I enrolled in May.

These assignments are pushing me out of my comfort zone: making staged portraits of strangers and fighting frustration by staying in one area for a long time, even when nothing seems to be happening, in order to connect with the local community.

I found the process quite challenging but empowering. It has allowed me to stay with discomfort and accept it as part of the process — and of life I’d say. It was interesting to see how things change when, instead of leaving, you wait few more minutes in that space of discomfort: usually it’s in that moment that magic happens.

I also wrote a piece about the first day of autumn here in Barcelona: Goodbye summer. A story about a rainy Sunday and picking up my camera despite my own resistance.

I don’t want to flood you with too many updates, so I’ll leave you with a few photos, and I’ll see you in a month.

Cheers

—M