There is no better way to get to know a place than to fall in love with someone from there. I had been hearing about Brazil for 5 years before I went, and when I finally did it already felt like home.

I try not to make the accompanying text to these albums personal. My goal is to create an experience that the audience could theoretically recreate themselves, not to tell you about my trip. For Brazil, however, I do not think it is possible for me to divorce my experience from the place, so please forgive this post.

I have romanticized Latin America to a fanatical degree. Having now seen a great deal of this part of the world, I feel that Brazil is defiantly singular and different from its geographical neighbors. It is the unexpected pepper in the dish. It is years ahead in its ability to love, yet years behind in so many other ways. There is no place with a pulse so heavy, and it is difficult even as a stranger to spend a day without making a friend. I have never felt a warmer welcome than upon entering Brazil. I was subsumed into a wild loving Brazilian family, and no expense nor affection was spared in making me and my own family comfortable there.

I see the people of Brazil as being defined by the enormous capacity of their hearts. Their love is predictably passionate yet turbulent and feral—a dangerous and irresistible combination that will take you for the ride of your life. I can no longer claim any connection to Brazil—admittedly a great loss for me—and even though that separation occurred a while ago, these photos serve as a form of final closure for me. Taken in Rio de Janeiro, Paraty, Ouro Preto, and Belo Horizonte, these images are a kind of monument to a definitive part of my life that is now over.

I will look back at this chapter of my life fondly, and though I am content with it now being over, I am sad to see it go. If we are measured by the power of our love, then I hope someday I can say I have a heart as big and fiery as a Brazilians. Thanks for bearing with me. Enjoy.