Some days, you’re just drifting; no plan, no purpose; until life puts you exactly where you need to be.
That’s how this story begins.
I was finishing a shift at work when I heard that Lizt Alfonso’s Ballet would be performing at the National Theater that night. It was just a few blocks away, and I had nothing planned. I grabbed my camera, took a breath, and headed straight there.
It was 2018, and these turned out to be my first ever dance photographs. At the time, I had no idea that night would mark a turning point in my journey as a photographer.
Technical Limits, Pure Instinct
I carried a Nikon D80, an old body with very limited dynamic range. My only strength was a workhorse lens: the Nikon 80-200mm f/2.8. Still, the challenges were intense.
The lighting was brutal, harsh contrasts, tight spotlights, deep shadows swallowing the stage. There was no room for error. No fast burst mode. No advanced metering. Everything depended on instinct, timing, and a steady hand.
But in the chaos of light and darkness, beauty emerged:
• The perfect symmetry of dancers in formation.
• A ballerina suspended midair, captured at the peak of her leap.
• A group of children reaching out to the world, arms wide open, fearless and free.
What I Learned
Dance doesn’t let itself be photographed easily. You must learn to see the rhythm, anticipate the moment, and shoot just when the soul breaks through the motion.
I had no fancy gear. No lighting tricks. Just the raw will to freeze something beautiful and real.
And I did.
Looking back now, I don’t see flawless photos.
I see the birth of a photographer learning to trust his gut, learning to trust the need to create.
These images weren’t planned; they were a gift.
And thankfully, I was ready to receive it.
