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With photography, I wanted to return to the happy years of my youth spent wandering the streets of the old Palermo, holding onto my Grandma Ida’s hand as we ran errands in the open-air markets. I wanted to relive those unforgettable moments spent out in the fields, helping the farmers with their daily chores or sharing their lunch.
After so many years of wandering, I felt the search was over. Sicily and Cuba seemed to interlock like two pieces of a puzzle. In my daily sauntering along the streets of this island, my soul was finally at peace. Now I knew why.
Havana, December 3rd, 1995
We wake up kind of early every morning, have a hearty breakfast, get our cameras together, a few rolls of good old Tri-X film and hit the street. I adore the idea of getting lost in this city, which is becoming more and more my own. But this time I’m not alone in my wanderings: my friend and printing teacher Mike Levins is with me. I kept my promise and we have finally fulfilled our dream: the two of us, worry free, walking around without a plan, simply taking pictures, our pictures.
Like two hunters stalking game, we just let our feet lead the way. The only obstacle between the photographs and us is a myriad of distracting elements that more often than not will f*** up the end results. But we are so happy to be here together at last, that we’re not even bothered. We just want to enjoy these two weeks that destiny has bestowed upon us. I know that I cannot take it for granted, not even for a second.
Although we move around together, we keep our distance to let moments come our separate ways, but without losing sight of each other. Sometimes, I nod and smile from a distance, as a way of approving what he’s seeing. Mike does the same.
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