Zygmunt Bauman argued that we live today in a time of utopia's negation. According to him, contemporary society has replaced the pursuit of future ideal worlds with "retrotopias", nostalgic projections of perfection onto a lost past. But I believe utopias are still very possible today.

For me, one of the most relevant questions about utopia is not what it promises for the future, but rather where it originates and what compels us to seek it. I understand utopia less as a blueprint for a new world, and more as a form shaped by memory, a response to the need for freedom. This longing is often bound to the desire to transcend negative memories, whether rooted in lived experience or cultural imagination. In this sense, utopia is not born from futurism but from a past that aches for resolution. Art, and photography in particular, becomes a way to mediate this process, to give utopia a form in the present.

There is a memory and a context behind the images I create, one that may make sense only to me, or perhaps to a larger or smaller group of people with whom I share personal, social, or ideological connections. That memory and context shape the narratives I am able to construct in order to pursue the dream that every utopia embodies: the longing for some form of freedom. They don´t talk about things that happen to me, but "about things that could have happened to me." That possibility without actuality, that could have happened, is, to me, a true foundation for utopia. Not because it tells us what is real, but because it reveals what we needed to feel real in order to survive, imagine, and move forward.

In my photography, when I reflect on a past that never happened, but could have, it is the present that truly matters. In utopia, the past and the future are not opposites, but twin sources of emotion and imagination. Just like in photography, we can speak of pasts and futures, but both only take form at a precise and urgent moment in the present.

Every utopia carries within it a kind of urgency—just as every act of creation does. There is a need to imagine, and then a need to act, because making it real becomes the only possible path. Perhaps Zygmunt Bauman lost faith in the possibility of utopia within our contemporary world. But I still believe it's there, alive in dreams, in memory, and in every photograph that dares to make them real.