SALVA-VIDAS
A portrait of those who appeared when I needed saving
(On Going, Personal Project)
A few weeks after being diagnosed with breast cancer, I left New York and traveled to the coast of Peru. I was one of the lucky ones—it had been caught early. There, under the roof and care of Rena and Marie—two women who have spent their lives healing others, and whom I am lucky to call my mothers-in-law—I slowly began finding my way back to myself.
Each day I walked to the Pacific Ocean. The sea became medicine. The beach became a place of recovery. And along the shoreline, people began appearing: fishermen, nurses, lifeguards, caretakers, neighbors, guardians. Most knew nothing about me. Yet each arrived exactly when needed.
When facing illness, we often search for cures, answers, and certainty. What I found instead were people.
Now, with treatment almost behind me, I can see that Leoncitos was only the beginning. More angels have appeared since then, but these photographs honor the first ones. As my strength returns, so does my desire to continue this work. A second chapter will follow, dedicated to the angels who appeared later—in New York, Madrid, and beyond—and who helped light the path forward when I needed it most.
DEDICATION:
First and foremost, to my wife Claudia, and to our extraordinary twins, Lea & Nicolás. Without them—their love, their patience, their laughter, and their unwavering faith—these months, and life itself, would not have been the same. They are my home, my purpose, and my greatest source of strength. To Ali, my aunt—though more like a big sister—who spoke with me every day during those crucial weeks and helped me find the light that led me to Leoncitos. And to all those angels who appeared, in Peru, New York, Madrid, and beyond, at precisely the moments they were needed most. FROM MADRID: To Ana, Maraya & Sole. Alex, Brintin, Monikon, Gadea & Tere. My brothers Pedro & Jimba. To Mamá, Abuelo P., Gladis y Moha. My sisters in law, Lolita & Ani. To Yolanda, my chosen godmother—a guiding light, a steadfast friend, and family by choice. To Enrique M., uncle, chosen godfather, and lifelong friend. To Niti & Enrique G. To Bor C. To my aunts Titi, Pilón, Chele, Vero, Marta, Lucía T. & Sole M. To my cousins, who are more like siblings: Juan, Cas, Agus, Clara, Tato, Lule, Almu & Tomy. To Lucía F., Maria G, Lara V. To Lara, Tania & Rosario D. To Coté & Laura de C. FROM NEW YORK, to my chosen family and beyond—thank you for being there when I needed you most. To those who took my hand, each in their own way, throughout these months, surrounding me with unwavering love, care, and friendship: To my American Godmother, Dasha. To Jim and Julie, for wrapping me and my family in your love, care, and friendship during these months. To my dear friend Ellen L., for her strength and friendship, and for the generosity and warmth that her late husband, Sandy, always showed me. To Josie, Franky, Elena, Willy, Ann, Vicky, and Gabby. To Juanita. To Javi A., Joan, and Luis Carlos. To Luis M., Maryam, Amaya, Caty, Palo, Maria C. and Lida. Prima, Maria L. y Laurita V. Gae, Pablo, Fefo, Laura, and Philippe. Tamy and Felipe. To Liz, Leslie, Joanne, Monica, Flo, Michelle, Adrian, Gabby and Aline. To Carol and Ericka. Anita B., Ishtar and Steph. To Galit, Crismo, Lucia R., Casti, Bisila, Amy, Yas, Michelle, Pascale, Javi R, Carlos, and Andrew. To Cat, Neil, Mark, Alan, Nishiel and Jesse. To Mimi, Johnny, and Tatiana. To Laia & Isa. To Alfredo, Jen, Manrique, and the entire APS family, for standing beside Claudia and me with generosity, care, and unwavering support. To Dr. Robson, his extraordinary team of nurses, and all the volunteers at MSK. To Dr. Lisa Baron, Nataly, Dr. Paul Baron, and Dr. Angela Ramdhanny. AND OF COURSE, ALL MY ANGELS OF LEONCITOS, PERU: To Rena and Marie, who welcomed me into their world when I needed shelter most. For more than thirty-five years they have dedicated their lives to healing others. During those first uncertain days, when fear was louder than reason, they healed me too. Through their care, wisdom, generosity, and love, Leoncitos became far more than a destination—it became a place of recovery, reflection, and hope. To Flor, strong and luminous, whose hair carries the colors of the rocks of Leoncitos: mahogany, black, and white. To Lindsey, the nurse who arrived each day with IV bags and gentle conversation, sometimes before sunrise. To Víctor, the fisherman who has spent decades sleeping on a giant turtle-shaped rock, climbing the mountain each evening and descending at dawn with the night's catch. To Miguel, the lifeguard from the neighboring beach and member of Peru’s elite Delfines police unit. The word Salvavidas across his shirt caught my attention before I knew his name. To Christian, guardian of the beach, who has watched these shores since childhood. To Héctor and Georges, who spend their days collecting plastic from the sea and sand, quietly caring for a place that has cared for so many.
