I work with the body.
Not to provoke, not to decorate, but to stay close to something honest.
Today I had a conversation that quietly reminded me why this matters to me.
A model told me he admired my work, but that full nudity wasn’t something he felt comfortable with. I respected that immediately. A body is never just material. It carries history, fear, desire, dignity. It belongs to the person who inhabits it. No image is worth crossing that line.
At the same time, I was reminded of something just as important: I can’t change the nature of what I’m looking for. My work has never been about nudity itself, but about presence. About that moment when the body stops negotiating, stops performing, stops protecting itself. When it simply exists, without strategy or disguise.
I tend to lose interest when I feel someone has to hide, not because of what is missing, but because something fragile and true has been interrupted. When an image must protect, the dialogue shifts. It becomes something else. Not wrong, just no longer my language.
I don’t really believe in compromise when it comes to honesty. Some things can be adjusted, others can’t be softened without changing their meaning. Stillness can’t be staged. Truth can’t be made polite without losing its depth.
I am proud of my images because they are honest.
I am proud of my models because they are brave.
They are not there to be seen as “nude.”
They are there because they chose to be present.
And that kind of presence is the most beautiful form of courage I know.
If an image can’t hold that, I let it go.
