Photography

My work began as a form of documentation, an attempt to make sense of the beautiful

disorder in my father’s atelier. The clothes draped over every surface, the bolts of fabric leaning

against the walls, the organized chaos of a creative mind constantly in the middle of ten ideas

ahead of its own hands. I brought my camera, hoping to document it plainly. What I found

instead was something I hadn’t expected to look for. It was during his first collection in 2006, the

one he worked on in the year I was born, that the work shifted. Shooting in that space, with those

particular garments, light began to feel less like a tool and more like a language. By playing with

movement and long exposure, I wasn’t just photographing fabric, I was recreating that sensation

of being a small child in his studio, watching my father build beauty from nothing, the way it

looked to me then, like magic.

Those early memories have a texture all their own. The shimmer of silk under the

fluorescent lights, the rustle of a hem being pinned, the sequins and straight pins scattered across

the creaky wooden floorboards of our old loft apartment in Chelsea. I used to play dress up in

that space, draping myself in unfinished things, enchanted without fully understanding what I

was enchanted by. These photographs are my attempt to return to that feeling, not to recreate it

literally, but to recover its quality, the warmth of it, the sense of being small inside something

beyond your own comprehension. This body of work is, at its core, about inheritance, what we

absorb from our parents, and what it means to grow up inside someone else’s creative world and

slowly, finding a way to say it back through my own creative language

My work began as a form of documentation, an attempt to make sense of the beautiful

disorder in my father’s atelier. The clothes draped over every surface, the bolts of fabric leaning

against the walls, the organized chaos of a creative mind constantly in the middle of ten ideas

ahead of its own hands. I brought my camera, hoping to document it plainly. What I found

instead was something I hadn’t expected to look for. It was during his first collection in 2006, the

one he worked on in the year I was born, that the work shifted. Shooting in that space, with those

particular garments, light began to feel less like a tool and more like a language. By playing with

movement and long exposure, I wasn’t just photographing fabric, I was recreating that sensation

of being a small child in his studio, watching my father build beauty from nothing, the way it

looked to me then, like magic.

Those early memories have a texture all their own. The shimmer of silk under the

fluorescent lights, the rustle of a hem being pinned, the sequins and straight pins scattered across

the creaky wooden floorboards of our old loft apartment in Chelsea. I used to play dress up in

that space, draping myself in unfinished things, enchanted without fully understanding what I

was enchanted by. These photographs are my attempt to return to that feeling, not to recreate it

literally, but to recover its quality, the warmth of it, the sense of being small inside something

beyond your own comprehension. This body of work is, at its core, about inheritance, what we

absorb from our parents, and what it means to grow up inside someone else’s creative world and

slowly, finding a way to say it back through my own creative language.

The Impact of Social Media on Teenage Girls 

My project explores how social media affects young teen girls. Through photography and interviews, I captured the emotional and psychological impact that online culture has on their sense of self. Over the course of this project, I interviewed 8 girls, 4 of which were more intimate.  

This body of work is deeply personal to me. During my own high school years, I struggled with the pressures and expectations created by social media, the constant comparisons, the feeling of needing to look or act a certain way to be accepted, and the sense of missing out when I didn’t. Through the stories and portraits of these girls, I recognized many of the same struggles I faced: issues with body image, self-worth, confidence, and the blurred boundary between reality and the idealized world online.

By photographing and listening to these young women, I wanted to highlight how deeply these pressures can shape identity and mental health, both positively and negatively. The work reflects both the vulnerability and resilience of girls growing up in a digital world that constantly tells them who to be. 

IMPRINT
Therese (Honey), my Great Aunt with whom I share a name, was an unbelievable weaver. As she was passing away, my mother sat by her side, and when she held her, she saw for the first time that they shared the same hands. At that moment, my mother committed to her that she would always use them as she did to create beauty. 
Imprint is an ongoing body of work that illustrates my artistic self-discovery through the study of my familial lineage in the arts and gaining a deeper understanding of myself through how they use their hands to craft. 
My mother's dad and grandfather were passionate photographers, collecting cameras and deeply caring for the medium. They expressed their affection for their family by documenting the intimate details of their lives. This influence deeply impacted my mother, Christina, who similarly pursued photography as a teenager and has taken on dozens of different artistic mediums. Her love for image-making brought her to New York.
My father, Joel, is a Dominican fashion designer and a multitalented fine artist who, since 2006, has built an incredibly successful business/atelier. Growing up, his mom ran an atelier business where he would intern for her in the Dominican Republic, creating dresses and tailoring, which is where my dad first fell in love with the craft.
When I started this project, I initially intended to focus solely on my art to demonstrate self-discovery by mimicking my youthful exuberance, rediscovering abandoned creativity inspired by engrained childhood images. Though I stumbled upon my mother and father's old works from their youth, enthralled, I realized there was a lack of thorough exploration of my deep familial roots in artistry, which inspired the beginnings of this piece and will forever remain an evolving body of work. 

This body of work was exhibited at the International Center of Photography, where I am now an alumnus, having completed the year-long Imagemakers course.