About · since 2007

The story behind the camera

Who we are, how we got here, and why photographing weddings is, for us, something personal.

Hi, I'm Luis.

Before photography, I was a systems engineer. For two years I wrote carefully detailed reports that ended up filed away in a drawer: real work, with no one on the other side.

The camera gave me something I'd been looking for without knowing it: someone to receive it. A photograph reaches someone. It gets kept, looked at, and treasured for years. That's when I understood what I wanted to devote my life to.

The road

I learned without shortcuts. When I started, learning meant beginning from scratch: one camera, a lot of drive, and a first couple who trusted me, which for me was a gift.

Every wedding since then was earned the hard way, one by one, until I'd built a story worth telling. I still shoot with that same hunger.

What I believe

I believe a photograph is where a couple returns when the road turns uphill: an intimate refuge to remember, without words, what brought them together.

I don't say it lightly: in 2022 I married Emelia. I photograph the same stages I'm living, and that changes the way I see them.

Our family

At home it's Emelia, me and a much-loved pack: Cocoa, the brown one; Leica, black and white; and Aura, whom we adopted from a ranch where she had plenty of land to guard and very little human affection.

Between specialty coffee, sourdough and developing film, the details are cared for in everything here.

In memory · Feb 14, 2013 – Nov 14, 2025

Vaquero

He came home on April 26, 2013, and became the most loving and calm of them all. He always looked at you with tenderness. When Cocoa arrived and her puppies were born, Vaquero stepped aside, and that was when Emelia embraced him in a special way. They became inseparable.

He waited for her every night so they could go to rest together, attentive to everything happening at home. He was with us for twelve years and taught us, better than anyone, what it means to be present.

Thank you, Vaquero. This page is yours too. 🤍