At the start of the millennium, I began immersion periods in the woods. Amidst the density of the vast forest, my eyes turned to the devastated fields, to the scattered islands, to the solitude of the trees. For my own version of Amazon solitude. How lonely some trees in the Amazon are. They seem endowed with that extreme awareness and stillness common only to those who survive a great destruction. With the lonely stilt, the abandoned dog on the shore, the rower, the waterfall, the boat, they make up inner landscapes. With the infrared filter, I attempt to capture the shades of this reality, imperceptible to human eyes. A reality beyond the uniform intensity of green, manifesting in pinks, yellows and whites. Several shades of silence. Skins, sheets, surfaces to print on paper. Amidst the breadth of endless deep blue rivers, I photograph the particulars of each tree. Witnessing and recording tree and man, gazing upon this immense desert of water, as if staring at a mirror, looking for answers.