FIELD NOTES
Havana reveals itself in fragments of color and time - sun-washed facades peeling back decades of salt air, narrow streets alive with the hum of engines older than their drivers, and balconies draped in laundry like flags of everyday life. Along the Malecón, waves strike stone with rhythmic persistence, a reminder that the sea is both barrier and lifeline. Classic cars idle beneath fading colonial arches, while handwritten signs and hand-built repairs speak to resourcefulness shaped by constraint. In the still heat of afternoon, even the shadows seem to slow, yet every corner carries a pulse - music drifting through courtyards, kids playing ball beneath revolutionary slogans, and vendors calling out over crates of fruit. Viewed through the softness of 35mm film, Havana feels suspended between resilience and nostalgia—an urban archive still very much alive.




























