The Story of how I became a Photographer

ENG.

Every story has a moment that we call the beginning. Though it is hard for me to locate the precise instant where I can say, “there it was, where it all started!” I was, however, struck with a memory that I will never forget: that of my first camera.

His name was Zé. He was my grandfather on my mother’s side. I didn’t know him well, nor did I see him much, as there was some kind of problem in the family relationship that, as a child, it was impossible for me to comprehend. Certainly, that was the reason why I felt this huge desire to connect with and get to know my grandfather.

My earliest recollection, which remains the sole memory I possess of him, dates back to when I was approximately four or five years old. On the occasion of my birthday, my grandfather Zé presented me with a camera - a small and peculiar orange device, most likely intended for children use only. However, to me, it was simply a magic object.

I vividly recall the feeling of being absolutely awestruck by that magnificent piece. I also remember my grandfather Zé attempting to instruct me on the process of attaching the camera roll – that was smaller than your typical roll - but my young self couldn’t quite grasp anything from the explanations. Consequently, I am uncertain if any photographs were ever successfully produced by that remarkable orange camera. Nonetheless, I transformed it into a toy, envisioning myself one day capturing breathtaking images. Thus, the dreamer that persists within me today might have been born on that very day.

That moment, when that estranged man - whom I had scarcely acquainted myself with - presented me with an enthralling contraption that had the power to halt time, will remain, akin to a photograph, indelibly etched in my memory forever. This is for all the families that are never without imperfections, but somehow the unwordly conection that they have in common, if far more capable and sacred than the sum of all their mistakes.

Although I wish I had the opportunity to establish a better relationship with the father of my mother, I like to believe that my vocation as a photographer is partly due to his influence. Therefore, I find myself happy, with the sense that something from my grandfather Zé still dwells within me, till this day.

PT.

Todas as histórias têm um momento que a que chamamos de começo. Mas é difícil localizar na minha vida o preciso instante em poderia dizer: “foi ali que tudo começou!”. Ficou, contudo, comigo uma memória que nunca esquecerei. A da minha primeira máquina fotográfica.

Chamava-se Zé. E era o meu avô do lado materno. Não era uma pessoa que eu conhecesse bem, ou que eu visse muito, pois existia um problema na relação familiar, que para mim, enquanto criança era impossível de compreender. Certamente por isso sentia um enorme desejo em me relacionar e conhecer melhor o meu avô.

A minha primeira memória é aliás, a única memória que dele tenho, deveria eu ter cerca de quatro ou cinco anos. Foi precisamente aquela, em que, por ocasião dos meus anos o meu avô Zé me decidiu oferecer uma máquina fotográfica. Era pequena e cor de laranja, seria provavelmente para crianças, mas para mim era simplesmente um objecto mágico.

Aquele momento, em que um estranho homem que eu mal conhecia, me estava a oferecer, com um inolvidável brilho de ternura nos seus olhos, um fascinante objecto que permitiria parar o tempo, ficará, tal como uma fotografia, imortalizado para sempre. Por todas as famílias que de uma forma ou de outra não são perfeitas, mas o laço que lhes é comum é algo muito mais forte, mais sagrado, do que a soma de todos os seus erros.

Gostaria de ter conhecido melhor o Pai da minha Mãe. Mas gosto de pensar, que se hoje sou fotógrafo é também por causa dele, e que portanto existe ainda em mim uma pequena parte do meu saudoso avô Zé.