I'm hesitant to call myself a photographer, really. Actually, the most I've done is saying that I'm an amateur photographer, emphasis on amateur. However, I do think that there's something that makes us spend our time doing this kind of things, playing an instrument, writing a short story, make a painting, take a photograph. And despite that those of us that do try to do that kind of things are the minority, at least some of our work resonates to everyone. What makes us draw, what makes us sing, it comes from this common places, that when tickled the right way makes us shiver. None of us completely comes up with anything, I guess that's what I'm trying to say, and these common places and themes might be everywhere. The evocative elements might as well reside in an aroma, a chord, or an image. I don't know why I felt I had to take this shot, or why does it resonate with me and some of you. Whoever laid those bricks surely wasn't making an aesthetic statement, and being there, nobody saw anything special to the ceiling I was photographing. Despite everything, the image remains compelling all the same, and I'm glad I can share the hidden beauty of a small laying some bricks, lost in an abandoned basement, in the nowhere of Mexico.