[en] March: The Machine's Introspection

This month, Dosis Diaria 2025 takes a conceptual direction to explore the relationship between the photographer and their tools. It all began with a second-hand lens I bought online that arrived damaged. My first stop was Calle Donceles, in Mexico City's Historic Center, known for its history and photographic commerce. There, I was told the lens probably couldn't be fixed, and therefore, they weren't willing to accept it. However, since I had nothing to lose, I decided to try repairing it myself.

Upon opening it, I discovered a delicate world of small pieces with particular shapes, multiple fragile glass lenses, screws of different sizes, and intricate mechanisms. It wasn't an easy process. When I found a broken piece, I replaced it and fixed several details that I even broke while opening it. Finally, I managed to bring the lens back to life. This act of repair connected me in a special way with the object: now I feel a closer relationship with it, similar to wearing a garment knitted by oneself or to the connection I have with the photographs I've created.

To capture this experience, I used a Lomo Lady Gray black and white film roll and a lens extender that allowed me to take macro shots. The resulting images are a tribute to the engineering, history, and people who made these instruments possible; they also celebrate the hidden details inside them: diaphragms, screws, and textures that usually go unnoticed and are taken for granted. This tautological approach—a lens photographing another lens—is also a mechanical introspection, as if the camera were reflecting on itself.

The photographs capture gears, apertures, and surfaces that normally remain hidden. Each detail is a work of art in itself, designed with precision to fulfill its purpose. This process led me to reflect on how, just as photographers seek to understand their human subjects, here the machine becomes both subject and observer simultaneously.

These images not only celebrate the craftsmanship behind photographic lenses but also their ability to become extensions of the photographer. March invites us to look beyond the functional and value the art and technology that make our creative practice possible. These photographs are a reminder that even the most technical objects contain stories and secrets that deserve to be explored.