Ecuador, 2008

While traveling in the highlands of Ecuador, this lonely shepherd caught my attention. In broken Spanish she explained that after school she had to watch the sheep, but what she really wanted to was play ball.

Brazil, 2012

The art of body painting is very important to Amazonian cultures. In most regions of the Brazilian Amazon, people use a wild fruit called ‘Genipapo.” About the size of a grapefruit, the genipapo has a fleshy consistency that, when mixed with charcoal, oxidizes and becomes a semi-permanent ink. Women do most of the painting and they use their fingers, fine sticks, feathers and other tools to patiently and carefully apply the paint to people’s bodies. It can take many hours to paint somebody head to toe.

The geometric designs and patterned motifs they create have many meanings, depending on who wears the paint. Children tend to opt for playful paintings, and it is common to see little boys painted with spots, like the jaguar, or fully black, like the spider monkey. Girls are more sophisticated and often prefer basketry or nature designs, practicing for when they are old enough to paint others as their mothers and grandmothers before them.

Brazil, 2012

It was already mid-morning and the sun was starting to get too bright to photograph. A group of young Kayapó women had gathered to collect a handful of beads from an incoming traveler, which they use to make their beautiful bracelets. She was the last one in line, waiting patiently for her turn while casually ignoring my camera. When she finally did turn to acknowledge me, I found myself captivated by her inscrutible countenance as she lifted her chin and allowed me to snap a portrait of her. “Menire” is the word Kayapo women call themselves; a complex identity woven through culture, belonging, and a matriarchal heritage as rich as the rainforest.

Brazil, 2012

I followed this young girl into the Xingú River late one afternoon as all the children from the Kayapó village of A’ukre descended into the cooling waters for an evening swim. The way the light filtered through the forest and bounced off the cobalt surface of the river illuminated the delicate patterns on her face. The expression she wore was bright and innocent, perhaps unaware of the terrible fate awaiting the river that has sustained her community for generations; the construction of the sinister dam being built upstream that threatened her very existence, was almost too much to bear.

Madagascar, 2013

Driving through the Alley of the Baobabs in Western Madagascar, I spotted this flooded field overflowing with the blossoms of water lilies. We stopped the car to photograph the trees towering in the distance, when a splash caught my eye. A young woman was diving in the shallow water and gathering armfuls of the delicate flowers. She stood elegant and proud, presenting her small harvest to me like a bouquet.