The Rising Men

📸 Be Part of Something Bigger: The "Unity in Our Uniqueness" Exhibition 🌍

I’m not just creating an exhibition—I’m on a mission to show that unity isn’t just a dream, but something we can make real. Through powerful portraits that capture emotions, I want to tell the stories we all carry—the ones we hide behind our eyes and the ones that unite us as humans.

This isn’t about borders or divisions. It’s about humanity, about showing the world that our differences are what make us strong, and in our uniqueness, we find unity.

I’m calling on you to stand up and share your story. Join me in this project of the heart. No matter where you’re from or what you’ve been through—your story matters.

Please, share this with your friends. Help me make this vision a reality. You can find my contact details on my homepage, Instagram, Facebook—anywhere. Reach out and let’s create something powerful together.

Let’s show the world that unity isn’t just a dream. It’s our reality.

Healing is such a personal journey, and for me, it’s often about seeing the world through a different lens—literally. One of the most therapeutic things I do is grab my camera, head out into nature, or even wander through the city, and just let my instincts guide me. It’s not just about capturing moments; it’s about immersing myself in them, finding those visual stories that speak to something deep inside.

It’s a process that brings me peace and clarity, a way of healing that’s uniquely mine. And this is where I think we often go wrong in our understanding of healing: we forget that each of us sees the world differently, and so each of us needs to heal differently.

Over the years, especially through my work with men, I’ve noticed a troubling trend: spiritual narcissism. It’s the belief that there’s only one ‘right’ way to heal, grow, or reach our potential. I’ve heard it in men’s circles, in conversations at festivals, and even among coaches and mentors. This idea that you must follow a specific path—whether it’s meditation, a certain practice, or working with a particular healer—is limiting and, frankly, damaging.

We are all unique. What works for one person may not work for another. Healing isn’t a one-size-fits-all journey. For some, it’s about action—getting out there, doing something wild, pushing boundaries. For others, it’s about stillness, meditation, or quiet introspection. There’s no single road to healing; all roads can lead to the same place if they’re the right roads for you.

This kind of spiritual narcissism, this mentality of “my way is the only way,” overlooks the beautiful diversity of our experiences. We are all different, and in our uniqueness, we find unity.

When I look into my son's eyes, I don’t just see him—I see myself, my father, and all the men who came before us. It’s like looking into a mirror that reflects not just the present, but generations of our male heritage. It’s the greatest joy and the heaviest burden, all wrapped up in one.

In those moments, I realize that my father, and all his fathers before him, are within me. I carry their strengths, their lessons, and yes, their struggles. But I also carry the incredible power and responsibility of this lineage. It’s easy to forget that along with the challenges, we inherit so much good from our ancestors—gifts, talents, and a strength that has been passed down through the ages.

Every time my son looks at me, I see a new being rising—one who is shaped by our past but also forging a path of his own. This is the gift I’m most grateful for: the chance to rise alongside him, to support him as he discovers the incredible potential within himself.

I hope I can give him the joy, the wisdom, and the strength to rise as the best version of himself, just as my ancestors have passed down to me. Because within our human vessel lies the power of our entire lineage, and that’s something truly extraordinary.

Thank you, my son, for challenging me in ways I never imagined, and for giving me the opportunity to rise. Together, we carry forward the legacy of our ancestors, and I can’t wait to see what you will create with it.

Have you ever felt alone, even in a crowd? Have you experienced that deep feeling of loneliness despite being surrounded by people? I did once again at the Medicine Festival.

It wasn’t just during the men’s circle where I was reminded of the importance of opening up. Later, while dancing to the music of Poranguí that loneliness hit me like a wall. Even in the company of friends, I felt this intense uprising of loneliness within me. But at the same time, there was a strange sense of connection—a release that came from having opened up during the men’s circle.

As I let the music move through me, I allowed my body to express everything I was feeling. It was like my soul had been set free to dance and express itself in ways I hadn’t allowed before. In that moment, I realized that vulnerability isn’t just about sharing in words—it’s about allowing yourself to feel and express, in whatever form that takes.

So, what can you take from this? Remember that by embracing your true self, you allow others to do the same. Vulnerability isn’t a weakness; it’s a gateway to deeper connection and understanding. When we stop hiding behind societal masks, we begin to heal, not just ourselves, but our relationships too. The benefits? More authentic connections, less loneliness, and a community where you can be seen and heard just as you are.

Create your own space—within yourself or with others—where you can be free. It’s not about changing who you are; it’s about discovering who you’ve always been.”

I want to share something personal with you. There was a time when I almost gave up on this path—on doing men’s work—because I felt like no one was really listening or even care about it. Especially in this land where I live with my family, it felt like I was shouting into the void. But if I’m being honest, it wasn’t just the world around me that was the "problem". It was me. I had built a cage around myself, one I couldn’t see beyond.

Being a father, being the role model for my son, it’s been a pressure like no other – AND THE MOST PROUD ROLE TOO.

People might think men have it easy, but let me tell you, it’s far from easy. You try to provide, to make sure everyone’s happy—your wife, your son, everyone around you. But in doing that, I neglected myself. I screwed up. I forgot to take care of my own heart.

And no, I am not downgrading mothers. YOU DO AMAZING and without you, humanity would be f**ked. You give life to this world.

In the night from Sunday to Monday night I drove to Paphos. I took this picture of the stars. Not for my other brand (Horus Horizon Productions), not for anyone else, but for me. TO REMIND MYSELF OF WHO WE REALLY ARE. We are part of the universe, and in a way, we are the universe. We’re all connected, intertwined with each other, and with everything around us.

It saddens me to see that so many of us still struggle to see this, to embrace the change we so desperately need. We fight over land, water, resources that aren’t really ours to begin with. We make life so hard for ourselves, for each other. And it breaks my heart.

But there’s hope. I hope that one day, my son will look up at the stars and see something different. I hope he’ll say, “Hey, that star right there—that’s my Dad. And look, there I am, right next to him.”

Brothers, we have the power to change so much, starting with ourselves. Let’s not shy away from the darkness, BECAUSE IN THAT DARKNESS, WE WILL FIND THE MOST BRILLIANT LIGHT.