The Photographic Journal

Heart of Gold

Essay 151 • Apr 14th 2017

Cuba. Fewer than 100 miles from my childhood home, a place that felt foreign, forbidden even, and yet I felt a strange familiarity and a promise of intimacy. My desire to understand the island shaded by half-a-century-long trade embargo and inaccessible to Americans. A place that was seemingly standing still in history, yet beating forward in human spirit.

I wanted to sort out the mixed interpretations of this place. I wanted to plug into the current of electricity that I believed ran underneath this colorful island.With devouring eyes and dry skin, I looked for visual answers within the familiar humidity, a sticky sweat that felt like home, but only in feeling and never in reality.

11 days in central Havana, I was absorbed into the city's singular family, one that never let me go hungry, never let me get lost. Where their doors literally never closed, making it impossible to feel like a stranger. I started to understand this promise of intimacy I knew I felt before.
The city pulsed with people, and I realized why this place made me feel like a human among strangers and family at once. A community burning in love and rich in pride and aspiration. Dalé.

JP_01
JP_02
JP_03JP_04
JP_05
JP_06
JP_07JP_08
JP_09
JP_10JP_11
JP_12
JP_13JP_14
JP_15
JP_16JP_17
JP_18
JP_19JP_20
JP_21JP_22
JP_23JP_24
JP_25
JP_26
JP_27JP_28
JP_29
JP_30JP_31
JP_32
JP_33JP_34
JP_35
JP_36
JP_37

 

Joe Perri
A photographer and director on a constant hunt for harmony in life’s beauty pockets. Currently nestled somewhere in Los Angeles, I spend most of my time looking for light in the shadows, or flying to find it elsewhere.Instagram | Website