Beneath Portugal’s golden skies, I found horses that carried centuries in their gaze. The Lusitanos — powerful and noble — moved like living sculptures, while the wild Garranos and rare Sorraias lingered in the shadows of rugged hills. This collection is born of awe and humility, of standing before them and realizing the world is far richer, and far less black and white, than I ever imagined.

In Scotland, the land speaks in whispers of mist and stone. The Highlands rolled out before me — raw, untamed, and endlessly quiet. Among heather and ancient hills, the ponies moved like part of the landscape itself, sturdy and steadfast against the wind. It was here I rediscovered my voice, as if the mountains themselves had been holding it safe until I was ready to listen. This collection carries that silence, that strength, and that sense of belonging.

Canada felt like the picture I once held in my mind of what freedom might look like — horses against open skies, grasslands that seemed to have no end, and air that carried a stillness I had almost forgotten. Out there, I felt small, yet deeply connected. This collection is a reminder of that wonder, and of the quiet strength that comes from wide open spaces.

I once believed that the world’s edge would be where magic lives. In New Zealand, I found that edge. Vast prairies stretched into the horizon, black sand beaches carried the rhythm of the sea, and in the silence of the mountains I felt both small and infinite. I had never been so far from home, yet it all felt strangely familiar — like stepping into a dream I must have carried with me all along. This collection is my attempt to hold on to that fleeting sense of wonder.

Some photographs aren’t part of a larger thread — they hold their own, quietly and powerfully. Unbridled is a collection of those moments: the images that caught my breath, each with a feeling and truth that couldn’t be folded into anything else. They remain as they were found — singular, unbound, and complete.