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 in early 2026, I left New York and traveled to the northern coast of Peru. There, under the 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.

This series is a portrait of those people.

When facing illness, we often search for cures, answers, and certainty. What I found instead were people.

Five months later, as I near the end of treatment, I can see that Leoncitos was only the beginning. More angels have appeared since then, but these photographs honor the first ones.

This work is dedicated to my Salva-Vidas of Leoncitos, Perú—the people who appeared when I needed them most.

And to those who followed:

Ali. Clau. Lea and Nicolás. Juanita. Ana, Maraya and Sole. Tili, Pilón and Chele. Gae and Pablo. Enrique. Bor. Anita. Luis, Caty and Lida. Ansorena and Luis Carlos. Dasha, Willy, Ann and Vicky. Niti and Enrique G. Juan and Cas. Pedro, Jimba and Mamá. Brintin, Monikón, Gadea, Tere and Alex. María and Primavera.