diana-ros-fotografa

“One look is enough to make a change.”

In an instant you can immortalize someone’s identity, a death or even the most beautiful natural phenomenon. I learned this lesson when I put myself behind my camera lens and I began the voyage into the unknown. Since then, dozens of social injustices have become timeless photographs that illustrate the victims of oppression, abuse and tyranny which sometimes go completely unnoticed by citizens and government officials alike. It was my trip to the “City of Widows,” better known as Vrindavan, which marked a turning point in my life. The icy gaze of a woman bereft of humanity was stuck in my eyes then and still remains etched in my mind. That moment was enough to turn my life in Madrid upside down and leave the field of development economics to pursue studies in social work. I decided it was time to act. Those vacant eyes would no longer go unnoticed by my camera, nor by me.

"Fatiga de estar vivo, de estar muerto,
Con frío en vez de sangre,
Con frío que sonríe insinuando
Por las aceras apagadas."

Destierro: Luis Cernuda (Un río, un amor).

So that is how they live, without life. They wander the streets with their bare feet, indifferent to the stones on the street like their sad souls because their husbands were taken from them during the first part of their lives; nor are they able to live the second part of their lives either.

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" Las viudas traen la peor de las malas suertes. "
sosmujer

Shouting from the Rooftops

 

Meeting with Muslim women:

 

In the Blue Labyrinth of Chef-Chouen, I am excited to be carried away by my camera. It drags me down alleys away from the hustle so I can transfer furtive glances with the distance that comes with being the hunter of moments.

 

Mornings are for navigating the streets and recreating the comings and goings of these people in this blue universe.

 

Nameless faces look at me and I maintain my anonymity; traversing between the Stone Age and the twenty-first century in a distant society that is protective of their privacy.

 

But in the afternoon heat I go up to my roof to block out the daily noise. I came to know my neighbor who routinely did her daily chores of covering the roof from the unyielding sun and pulling in her underwear from the sun. I would sneak into their private lives to get to know a more friendly face with its authentic human nature, thus breaking away from cultural barriers to become just two women sharing one afternoon sun.

 
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