These are some pictures I took about pregnancy. I wanted to use hard lighting to create more interesting images than the typically cheesy ones of classic pregnancy photography.

I feel that pregnancy, added to a mysterious light, is peculiar and interesting, something cool.


– The making of these images was possible thanks to: Carolina Restrepo (MUAH)



Here is the third part of the session I did with the great opera singer Katharina Hagopian


– The making of these images was possible thanks to: Carolina Restrepo (MUAH)


I’m super happy to present you my new series “Hairy Tales”.

This are just some sketches that I did recently, but I’m still working on it. Of course, this pictures are not retouched and they are not the best of the series, I’m still working on the selection, etc.

I’m still shooting this, I have around 30 more models in Madrid and some more at my way back in NY. My idea is to work on this series during a year (in fact, if you are reading this and you live in NY or Madrid and you want to participate, I invite you to write me to arrange a photo shoot)

I think I don’t need words to explain the project, the images speak by themselves or better said, the models speak by themselves.

I have to say that I’m absolutely grateful with the people who posed for me, not only for this fact, but also for sharing with me some of their thoughts and feelings. This project is being one of the most interesting and exciting ones of all that I’ve ever done, because it is very humane, real and direct. For me this is pure portraiture: humans glances in front of human eyes.



I did this collaboration with my good friend and excellent writer Julio Teruel, it was for the photo magazine DSLR Magazine. I only had 4 hours for the entire session, the stylist failed the team at the last moment and I almost didn´t find the male models , but even with all these difficulties I feel the result is mysterious and interesting, I hope you enjoy it.


LOOK AT ME! (Texto original en español más abajo)

If you are bothered by my image, my presence, my body, it is you who must change your way of looking. It is you and your prejudices who undress me and turn me into the object of censorship. You are voyeurs because you don’t know how to be spectators. So learn, and then…. look at me.




It is not my body. It is your doctrine. It is not the clothes that slip off my snow-white skin, it’s your posture and your shame. Look at me. It is not me. I reflect light and have nowhere to hide. It is you, with your dark suits and sterile hairdos and stealthy pupils. It is you who turn my honesty into crime, into a kind of temptation that you deny yourselves, heaven forbid that you may fall into it, that you follow my example and disrobe of those cotton armors.




There is nothing more innocent and fragile than a naked body. There is nothing more guilty and stone-hard than a dogmatic rejection. You turn your heads, you make up conversation to quiet the voices that can only be heard inside your corrupt heads; you bet the money you do not have in card games you have not mastered, only to feel at ease among those of your own kind. You do all within your power not to see me without your bias, your fears, and your scruples. Look at me.




I am a naked woman in front of you, who are so modern and so not contemporary.  You do not know how to react to a pair of nipples, a pubis, some fleshy lips, to my silhouette, spilled out onto an unvarnished wooden floor. Later you will masturbate to a screen, or protected by a piece of glass, or alone with thoughts of that which you cannot do or say. And I, who do not hide, you ostracize me. Only because I do not believe in double-standards or act scared of what I am. Look at me. A woman in a hostile environment. An environment that is hostile because you want it to be so; because it is your choice; because you are not capable of scaring away the discomfort of simply looking, without ostentation or lust.



You become voyeurs because you don’t know how to be spectators; because you will never be protagonists, only shadows, vampires scared of the light trapped by my naked body. Even while longing for my blood, for the color of my mouth. Look at me.

Julio Teruel


Si os incomoda mi imagen, mi presencia, mi cuerpo, sois vosotros los que debéis cambiar la forma de mirar. Sois vosotros y vuestros prejuicios los que me desvisten y me convierten en objeto de censura. Sois voyeurs porque no sabéis ser espectadores. Aprended, y entonces… miradme.

No es mi cuerpo, es vuestra doctrina. No es la ropa resbalando de mi piel nívea, es vuestra pose y vuestra vergüenza. Miradme. No soy yo, que reflejo las luces y no tengo donde esconderme. Sois vosotros, con vuestros trajes oscuros y peinados asépticos y pupilas furtivas. Sois vosotros los que hacéis que mi honestidad se torne en crimen, en una suerte de tentación que os negáis, no vaya a ser que caigáis en ella, que me imitéis y os despojéis de esas armaduras de algodón.

No hay nada más inocente y frágil que un cuerpo desnudo. No hay nada más culpable y pétreo que el rechazo dogmático. Apartáis la mirada, improvisáis conversaciones para callar voces que sólo suenan en vuestras corruptas cabezas, apostáis el dinero que no tenéis en juegos de cartas que no domináis, sólo para sentiros tranquilos entre los de vuestra especie. Hacéis lo posible para no observarme sin tapujos, sin miedos, sin escrúpulos. Miradme.

Sólo soy una mujer desnuda ante vosotros, tan modernos y tan poco contemporáneos, que no sabéis reaccionar antes unos pezones, ante un pubis, ante unos labios carnosos, ante mi silueta derramada en un suelo de madera al que le falta barniz. Luego os masturbaréis mirando pantallas, o protegidos por un cristal, o en vuestra intimidad mientras imagináis lo que no sois capaces de hacer ni de decir. Y a mí, que no me oculto, me aisláis. Porque no concibo la doble moral ni me asusto de lo que soy. Miradme. Una mujer en un entorno hostil. Hostil porque así queréis que sea. Porque así lo elegís. Porque no sois capaces de espantar la incomodidad que os da mirar sin más, sin pretensiones ni lascivia.

Os convertís en voyeurs porque no sabéis ser espectadores. Porque nunca seréis protagonistas, sino sombras, vampiros temerosos de la luz que atrapa mi cuerpo desnudo. Aunque ansiéis mi sangre, del color de mi boca. Miradme.

Julio Teruel


– The making of these images was possible thanks to: Carolina Restrepo (MUAH), Mikki Marvel (model), Justin Oster (model), Serge Mihailov (model)


This Time Out issue has been retouched by me!

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