I come from a different side of the world, where August means summer and Christmas happens in winter. Ten years ago, I flew away from my homeland, chasing my dreams and my future, to finally arrive here, in Australia, to a new world, a new life.

When I departed the city I was born in, Barcelona, I left many things behind. I left my family and friends, I left my job and my apartment, and I left a personal photographic project, nameless at that point in time. I left the project there, but I brought these photographs here. With the passing of time, these film slides have matured enough, so the project has gained a name: Fading Faces.

In those years my world was different; the world was different. We didn't have smartphones. The mobiles we did have were merely for talking, not to keep everybody posted about our latest meal. Ten years ago, all my cameras were analog. In those days I was a young, reckless man who wanted to portray himself through other people, building a human map of those who were part of my life; people who, altogether, described who I was.

I used to live along Las Ramblas in Barcelona, in a small attic with a rooftop. On that rooftop, against a wall, I had a stool. I asked my family, my friends, my workmates and my acquaintances to come upstairs to sit on that stool and let me take a single shot with my beloved, old, 4-inch x 5-inch Linhof Technika camera. Shooting with a large-format piece of equipment wasn't easy. It's one of those cameras you see in old movies, where the photographer shoots from underneath a black blanket. I worked with it because its lens' bokeh (the aesthetic quality of the blur produced in the out-of-focus parts of the image) was exceptional and unique.