where promises collapse, belief erodes
Throughout my life, I accepted the promises thrust upon me.
In México, cemeteries are considered sacred territories that preserve familial memory while serving as sites of divine protection for loved ones. As a child, I was taught to believe in the permanence of gravestones and the angelic figures that watch over the dead in their eternal rest.
But projecting the promise of permanence is impossible to sustain. Our changing environment collides with such fixed material expectations. Even concrete, despite its strength, reaches a breaking point and collapses into itself.
Photographing these falling monuments became a way of confronting the tension between belief and ephemerality. As I stood before them, my convictions began to shift. The certainty I once held revealed its own fragility and left me with a deep sense of vulnerability.
Belief is fragile, tested by time and decay. As monuments crumble and assurances erode, the one thing left is the desire for certainty. Yet the more I search for it, the more I find myself returning to the question.
Perhaps certainty itself is an illusion. As my beliefs erode and our monuments collapse, I continue searching for something beyond myself to trust – a leap of faith to ease my discomfort as I await the great unknown.