Roberto
Martínez

I came to Mazunte for two weeks and I've been here eight years. I'd been shooting weddings in Monterrey —air-conditioned ballrooms, minute-by-minute schedules, two hundred photos of the same toast— and I stepped off the bus with my camera and a backpack. I never bought the ticket home.

Here I learned to work differently. No flash, no assistant, no rush. The coastal light does half the job and the other half is waiting: for the sun to drop, for the hair to come loose, for the person to forget I'm holding a camera. What comes after that wait is what matters.

I still go back to Monterrey for the usual weddings, and I still prefer the shoots where nobody quite knows what's going to happen. Retreats, couples I met while diving, people who sing on the beach. Nature isn't the backdrop of my photos: most of the time it's the reason they exist.

Soulpic is just me. No studio, no team, no three-tier packages. There's a camera, a lot of time spent walking, and the idea that a good photo is closer to a conversation than to a session.