This image means a lot to me.
I took this portrait a while back, but I keep coming back to it—especially on the days when I feel drained, or when a project starts to feel too big to carry. There’s something about it that resets my perspective.
The man in this photograph is Tomás.
He’s over 70 now, but every morning, before the sun even rises, he grabs his old axe, puts on his worn-out clothes, and heads out to work. What does he do? He cuts thorns. Long, sharp, toxic thorns. He spends the entire day under the sun, from dawn to dusk, doing a job that most would find unbearable. And yet… he never complains.
I remember asking him once, “Why do you still do this every day?”
He chuckled, shrugged, and said:
“Because it’s what I have to do.”
That answer floored me. It wasn’t about passion, pride, or even survival—it was about presence, about acceptance, about doing what needs to be done.
So whenever I feel stuck, I look at this image and think:
Tomás is out there, with his axe, under the scorching sun, cutting through acres of thorns.
Suddenly, my to-do list doesn’t feel so impossible.
🎞️ The Portrait Itself — Technical Approach
Photographing Tomás wasn’t just about framing a face. It was about honoring a life.
I chose black and white because in this case, color felt like a distraction. I wanted texture. I wanted to show the wear in his skin, the fibers in his shirt, the fatigue etched deep into the lines of his body.
I used a 50mm prime lens—wide enough to include the landscape, but close enough to feel intimate. The light was soft and cloud-filtered, just enough to wrap him in contrast without harshness.
I positioned the camera just below eye level—not to look down or up at him, but to let his figure and his tool fill the frame with dignity. I didn’t pose him. I didn’t ask him to smile or stand a certain way. I just spoke with him, listened, and observed. And in that silence, he gave me everything.
Because the best portraits are not taken. They’re shared.
🌍 Why I Found Him
Moments like this don’t happen in a studio. They happen out there—on the road, off the map, under the open sky.
That’s part of what Moon Nomads is about. It’s not just about learning to take better photos. It’s about learning to notice. To feel. To walk into spaces where real stories live. We don’t chase perfect images—we walk toward meaning. And sometimes, when the timing is right and the light is kind, the world gives you a frame like this one.
💬 Final Thought
If you’re feeling overwhelmed, come back to Tomás.
Remember the simplicity of his answer. The weight of his days. The clarity of his action. And then, whatever it is you’ve been avoiding—pick it up again. Your camera, your project, your purpose.
There’s still beauty and resilience out there.
You just have to go out and meet it.
