Listen to love you more
2023-2026

In the California desert on the cusp of a personal life change, I was preparing to move closer to my grandfather in the Catalan region to be by his side as he neared the end of his life. Georges was a sandman—he had spent his entire life breaking up stones into sand.

The desert, which initially seemed hostile to me, became a place of quiet reflection. Approaching those rocks felt like coming home with shoes full of sand. In the desert’s mineral silence, I rediscovered the essence of his presence. In those colossal forms—with their fissures, hollows, and weathered surfaces—I saw a hairy ear, a mouth that spoke little, and a benevolent eye; I began to create this grand family portrait. Papé was gently crumbling away, much like those rocks which, upon closer inspection, reveal themselves to be made of nothing but tiny, shifting particles. Photographing these landscapes in a vertical format transformed the vast expanses into intimate portraits. I returned to the desert after he had passed away. Nothing had changed; there was something comforting in that. He often used to say that dust and sand are where we come from and where we will return. Everything in between is the best part for us to enjoy.

For Georges