COLOMBIANIDAD

My personal journey as a Colombian has been anything but ordinary. I grew up in Bogotá in the 1990s—a time of profound social unrest. Though the armed conflict raged more visibly in rural areas, its echoes were everywhere. My memories of childhood are fragmented, perhaps by choice—perhaps an unconscious act of denial. I remember my parents avoiding public places, afraid of bombings. I remember long car trips being out of the question, the risk of kidnapping too great.

I wasn’t born into wealth, but my education placed me in select circles where security was paramount. Armed guards outside restaurants and schools became a quiet normalcy. Some classmates’ parents had been kidnapped. It was the backdrop to our lives, yet I was shielded from fully grasping it. At home, I was simply a child—drawing, painting, living in my own version of magical realism, while outside, an entirely different Colombia existed.

As I grew older, I struggled with my Colombian identity. I didn’t see value in our traditions, our food, our music, or even our people. When I left for studies abroad, it felt like my chance to reinvent myself—to fit in, to become as Anglo or European as possible. What I didn’t realize was that my success, my voice, my very essence was inextricably tied to my roots.

Still, traces of home followed me. The music my mother played on the radio—Shakira’s early ballads, Carlos Vives’ vallenatos. The telenovelas that shaped our evenings—Café con Aroma de Mujer. And yet, every introduction abroad came with a joke about drugs, cartels, or cocaine. It was infuriating. How do you shed an identity imposed by the world, when beneath it lies a culture overflowing with richness and beauty?

It took time, but I reclaimed my roots. I learned to celebrate our resilience, our creativity, our ability to turn pain into poetry. I now see Colombia not through the lens of struggle, but as a place of undeniable magic—where music moves souls, where flavors tell stories, where landscapes command reverence.

That is why Colombianidad is close to my heart. This project is not just about me—it is a love letter to my homeland. A tribute to the artists, musicians, and writers who have shaped our cultural identity. A recognition of the extraordinary spirit of a nation that has endured, evolved, and flourished.

Through my photography, I invite you to see Colombia as I see it—not as a country defined by its past, but as a place of boundless creativity, warmth, and soul. I envision a future where our culture is not just recognized, but celebrated. Where our music is universal, our food is preferred, and our stories are told with pride.

Colombia is more than its history. It is its people, its artistry, its unwavering spirit. Colombianidad is my way of contributing to that vision. This is my love letter to Colombia. And it is just the beginning.