The first person I ever photographed was my mother. MariÌa became pregnant with me at the young age of 19 and from then on she led a troubled life which resulted upon our early separation. I guess the camera was my way of getting close to her and unveiling her feelings. I traveled to the small town where she lived with her new family in exile from her home- town Colombia. I photographed her every time, always trying to capture the nuances under the surface. The second person I photographed was myself. I started doing it the day of my 23rd birthday and still continue to do so obsessively. I began photographing my life at the times when I felt uncertain and unstable, pushing myself to explore the limits between truth and deception. In contrast with my mother, my lifestyle was defined by youth, often traveling, involved with different lovers and spending lots of time by myself. My approach became more energetic and frequently about confiding in the camera. With time, in spite the evident differences, I came to realize that my exploration, the one I was doing through my own body and expressions was often overlapping the one I was doing with MariÌa. The result of this process is a catharsis of sorts. It represents my struggle for identity, the quest for an understanding between two women inevitably intertwined by flesh and heart. This project transcends the natural mother-daughter bond; it is my relentless pursuit of answers and self-discovery. In many ways this search took me back to the woman who gave me life, closing the gap of our separation and coming to the realization that we share a big part of our physical and psy- chological identity.