“Chile is a land of contrast, painted with a thousand shades of light and color.”
Chile felt like several countries in one. In just a few days, I went from the misty hills of Chiloé to the fiery reds of the Atacama Desert, then to the volcanic shores of Pico Island. It was my first time in Latin America, and I traveled across the country for three weeks, camera in hand, letting the landscapes guide my steps.
In the south, the light was soft and the air heavy with moisture. I spent long moments watching clouds drift across the snowy peak of Osorno Volcano. On Chiloé, I walked through endless green fields where small red houses stood alone, weathered by wind and time.
Then everything changed. In San Pedro de Atacama, the silence became louder. The desert felt like another planet. I watched geysers rise with the sun, waited for the right moment at the Miscanti Lagoon, and stood alone at sunset in the Valley of the Moon, where the rocks turned gold, then pink, then blue. It was raw, wild, and infinite.
I ended my journey on Easter Island, drawn by the mystery of the Moai statues and the quiet rhythm of the Pacific. There, under a pale sky, wild horses roamed freely across the hills. It felt like the end of the world. Or maybe the beginning of something else.
This series is my way of remembering. The long roads, the quiet mornings, the changing skies. Every photo is a trace of a place that moved me. A story of contrast, of light, and of distance.
