All hunched over his coffee, he says two words to me and then falls asleep.
I stay there, waiting patiently because I know that after a while he wakes up and 
continues a random sentence that he doesn't even know he left unfinished.
Every now and then he tells me about the times he dreams of my grandmother;
he dreams of having her by his side and of calling her and that she doesn't answer him.
There is always a smile on his face when he tells me this until
he gets to the end and remembers that grandma is not there anymore.
There remains that smile, somewhere between sadness and rationality.






In the middle of August he got the wood for the all winter.  
He told me he would have called someone to  
organise it and that he would just made the first line  
At the end of the day he had did it all by himself.  
He often lies so he can do what he wants.






    "When are you coming back?" He asks, and a halo of sadness rushes over his face.
    His eyes so blue as white and so different from mine look at me with worry and sadness.
    We both know it won't be the last time we see each other, but we think about it anyway.
    "In December," I answer him casually and let the words mingle with the noises in the background
    so he doesn't think about it too much. As he sits down, he looks at me and says,

    "No you come back in October, bye love."







   
The air is hot and stuffy, it's August and the wind has no intention of blowing as the heat stops.
Grandpa has a broken arm so he can't do everything that comes into his head, much
to his misfortune and our luck.
We find ourselves discussing various shades of red  with which to paint who knows what.
Sometimes it's disarming how active and stubborn he is.
                     
  I never win with him.












“Are you about to leave?” you asked me while going up the stairs.
If I would have known you were about to leave I would have tried to catch even more of what I already tried with all my energy to grab.
You were my favorite subject, you will always gonna missed in my life.










CONVERSATION WITH MY GRANDFATHER

2021 - ongoing
Time passes and so do we.

For two years I photographed my grandfather, observing and creating images with him. I wanted to capture the looks and movements of genuine love and his funny way of living and fixing moments and things.







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