There’s something incredibly freeing about working with someone who moves as naturally and confidently as Karelia. I met her a few trips back in Old Havana—a brief, almost chance encounter that turned into something unforgettable. She had this presence about her, a quiet confidence that was magnetic. I remember standing there, taking in the way she moved, almost as if she was dancing through the streets without even trying. I didn’t hesitate to have Wilber, my assistant, exchange numbers. I knew we’d be back, and I knew I’d want her in front of my lens.
Now, here we are. On set, camera ready, and it’s like I’m not even guiding her. Karelia doesn’t need much direction—she embodies her own rhythm, and I quickly realized this shoot will be about something different. With most models, there’s an exchange, a balance of direction and improvisation. I’ll tell them to lean, to hold, to lift their chin just so. But Karelia? She just moves. And in that movement, there’s something truly mesmerizing. It’s like a subtle dance between photographer and subject, where I’m not leading her; I’m simply keeping up, capturing what she’s offering.
There’s a lesson in working this way—a humbling one. There’s this instinct as a photographer to control, to sculpt every moment. But when someone like Karelia steps into the frame, that approach goes out the window. She’s deliberate, rhythmic, sensual, confident—all I have to do is let her be. Her confidence fills the frame, and rather than my typical role as conductor, I’m the observer, watching and waiting for each moment to reveal itself. My task is simply to keep up, to respond to the pulse she sets, rather than imposing one of my own.
Click.
Click. It’s effortless. The moments feel natural and unforced, and there’s a beauty in that simplicity. She doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t second-guess. Every gesture, every look carries this depth, a conviction that shows up in every shot. There’s magic that comes from that kind of self-assurance; it’s like she’s aware of every movement, every angle, and yet it all feels raw, unplanned.
It makes me wonder: how often do we, as photographers, get in our own way? We’re taught to direct, to control, to craft every shot meticulously. But sometimes, the most powerful images happen when we let go of that need to mold and start simply following. It’s about creating an environment where the subject feels free enough to let their true self come through. Karelia taught me that sometimes, what’s needed isn’t a set of instructions or precise poses, but a willingness to step back and let them guide me.
That’s where the magic lives, in that space between direction and freedom. When you find someone who can fill the frame with their own unique energy, your job shifts from creating to capturing what’s already there. It’s the ultimate trust between photographer and subject. And in those moments, you’re reminded that the best images aren’t always about the technical or the planned—they’re about the raw, unfiltered connection that happens when you just let someone be.
