Scars grew out of an encounter during the making of M of Michoacán, a series I began in 2006 documenting gang culture in small Mexican towns shaped by immigration. It was there that I met Jimmy “El Pinto” López, an OG from a small town in Michoacán whose tattoos covered his body, head, and face. When I asked about their meaning, he said: “They are the marks of a warrior, of wars I have fought — so when someone sees me on the street, they know I’m ready to fight.”

That answer stayed with me for years. It led me to explore the relationship between tattoos and identity — not as decoration, but as self-inflicted scars that permanently alter how a person moves through the world and how the world receives them. I chose subjects who had tattooed their neck, head, and face — marks that cannot be hidden, commitments that cannot be undone.

Scars is a series of 20 portraits of Mexico City residents who chose to engrave their life experiences onto the most visible parts of their bodies. A statement of who they are, where they’ve been, and the absolute certainty that there is no looking back.