Born in 80’s communist Cuba into an anti-Castro family obsessed with migrating to the US, I grew up feeling rootle­­ss. Caught between state indoctrination and family canon, my self-identity was confused. My deepening conviction was that I would find belonging elsewhere.
I left Cuba in 2014. Initially the ‘outside world’ was cryptic and bewildering, not the panacea painted by many who opposed Castro. But as I embraced my new home in Sydney, I reflected on my older one. My perceptions of Cuba changed through separation and time, giving way to a more nuanced understanding.
When I eventually returned to Cuba to visit, familiarity waned into the realization that the place I had left no longer existed. The photographs I made —intended as personal mementos of family, friends and places—unexpectedly left me feeling exiled and detached. I had changed and so had Cuba. The country into which I was born is quickly passing into undecipherable memory.
This is a visual journey of my reconciliation with my lost motherland. My chance to confront my clashing childhood memories, and to acknowledge and reclaim the people, places and things that made me who I am today. The resulting photos are like a diary ripped apart, pages that don't show the dates of entry, but nevertheless I intend to put together again.