This series began as a quiet observation in Fanal Forest, Madeira, a place where the trees feel ancient, as if holding memories in their twisted forms. Inspired by Rupert Sheldrake’s book Presence of the Past, I was drawn to his idea that natural systems inherit memory, not through fixed laws, but through evolving habits. I began to wonder what memory might look like in the landscape. How it lives in the body, in form, in atmosphere?

I photographed male figures moving through the forest, placing them almost as shadows within the landscape. The 14.5 x 9cm lith prints on expired bromide paper carry the unpredictability of the material itself. The stains, dots, fogging feel like part of the language, as if the paper, too, remembers something.

There’s also a quiet inquiry here into non-dualism, a philosophical concept. I’ve always been drawn to the space where boundaries soften between person and place, between presence and absence. These images are not portraits, nor are they landscapes exactly... they sit somewhere in between, where the human form becomes part of the forest’s memory field.