• Home
  • Blurred in despair
  • Partidas
  • On her shoulders
  • COLOMBIA / MotherEarthConflict: Chapter 1- A year adrift
  • Second death
  • Portraits
  • Photobook: Oblivion
  • About
  • contact
  • Published
  • Menu

Fabiola Ferrero

Documentary photographer
  • Home
  • Blurred in despair
  • Partidas
  • On her shoulders
  • COLOMBIA / MotherEarthConflict: Chapter 1- A year adrift
  • Second death
  • Portraits
  • Photobook: Oblivion
  • About
  • contact
  • Published
Lights out, words gone. #light #documentary #color #iphonepic
Part of last week’s assignment for @lemondefr from #Venezuela - @viiphoto #VIIMentorProgram #Caracas #photojounalism #elections
Venezuela, 2016. #FromTheArchives #Venezuela #Crisis #BlurredInDespair #photojournalism - @viiphoto
Today is Election Day in Venezuela, but it’s hard to find any sign of that in the streets. Caracas, the capital, is ghost town. We talked to people this week about what they had on their mind, and unlike other years, voting was not a priority. I heard several heartbreaking answers about hunger, struggles and lost of hope. But the Pernalete family, parents of Juan Pablo (A 20 year old protester killed last year) photographed at the right, made me hold my tears... “All I need - says her mother- is my son, and he won’t come back. So no, I won’t vote. In dictatorship there are no elections. On Monday we will wake up to the beginning of six more years of injustice, of the same people who called my son a terrorist. The only thing that would bring me peace is to see Juan Pablo’s dream come true: to have a free country again” See this series of portraits taken #OnAssignment for @lemondefr ///@viiphoto #Repost @paulineeiferman with @get_repost ・・・ For the past few days photographer @FabiolaFerrero has been meeting Venezuelans to understand their needs and hopes for today’s elections. As they head to the polls (or not), you can see her gorgeous portraits in the link in my bio
Moods- #selftportrait #light #iphonepic #documentary #color
Suddenly the blurry thing walks into your room without asking permission and you can only dance to it feeling every inch of your body being burned and touched gently at the same time. And you look right into it as scary as it is and wonder for how long it’s going to be there. You think you can scape when you sleep but not really as it whispers there as well. Dry mouth and shaky hands stand watching and she learns to accept it. Learns to dance. Learns to speak only with the soul. Learns slowly to exist. Today many friends mourn the death of a well known journalist. Someone I never met. It is said he committed suicide. That he was struggling with depression for a while. I feel we all fail every time this happens, because we are not educated to deal with the concept of depression in a mature way. We should stop fighting it with “you just have an attitude problem”. The note above is in my diary, as many others from a while ago. Having people that understand what it’s like to put effort in just getting up from bed is crucial. We failed again by not understanding each other. By not understanding him.
Esta semana World Press Photo presenta el trabajo de los 6x6! Enjoy! #Repost @worldpressphoto with @get_repost ・・・ Left: a shirt hangs in one of the coca laboratories in Zabaleta. Right: Ariel Ramos (50) poses for a portrait in his house in Zabaleta, Colombia. He has been planting coca leaves since 1998. "I lived in poverty, and coca was money. If planting bananas or rice was as profitable, I would do that instead", he says. Hi there, I’m Fabiola Ferrero (@fabiolaferrero), a Venezuelan journalist and photographer currently based between Venezuela and Colombia. I’ll be sharing two of my projects, ‘Blurred in Despair’ and ‘MotherEarthConflict’, with you. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ From ‘MotherEarthConflict’: ‘MotherEarthConflict’ is a documentary project made with Fujifilm Instax cameras that aims to pay close attention to the peace process in the rural areas of Colombia after decades of armed conflict. It’s a reflection of the ever-lasting issues of the land and inequity by exploring the daily life of families that depend solely on coca incomes, their relation to nature and their state of mind. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ With the camera in my hands, and paper in theirs, the project creates a mixed narrative between pictures made by me and drawings made by them. Forgotten by the state, the coca farmers float in limbo between a fear of the past and hopes for the future–wishing that a happier and peaceful chapter could soon start for their communities. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ The six selected South American talents of the second edition of the 6x6 Global Talent Program are taking over our feed for the next two weeks! The program aims to connect visual storytellers around the world, particularly those that might not be well known outside of their own region, to a global audience. Find out more by following the link in our bio. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ #WPPh6x6 #WPPhDevelop
Mayally talks to her daughter through the curtains that work as a door. She lives with her sister and her nephews, and they all depend on the box of food called CLAP to supplement what she’s able to afford with only 4$ a month. When I visited her, kids were running around the house as she was worried about her house not being clean for a visitor. It always surprises me when people who are in so much need here always try to make the other feel at home. Her and her family desperately need the State’s help to survive. And she will vote for that reason. Today, on @wsj : “Food is an enormously powerful weapon in a country where babies die of malnutrition, store shelves are often bare and three-quarters of the population has lost an average of 19 pounds” Story by Ryan Dube, Kejal Vyas and Anatoly Kurmanaev. #Venezuela #crisis #photojournalism #documentary
Ah, magical Caracas 💛 you hurt and you captivate. You leave scars and lovely memories. You bring pain and joy. You look like the old childhood city yet you seem gone. You make me fall in love with your light just to remind me later how complicated you are. You hide so many secrets, so many truths about us, about being human, about crying silently and laugh out loud. Yes, magical yet blurred Caracas. #Sunday #Caracas #Venezuela #igersvenezuela #tree #documentary #magic
MarilynExtras-30.jpg
Marilyn, Angel's mother, through the sheets of her house in San Cristóbal, Venezuela, close to the Colombian border. 

Marilyn, Angel's mother, through the sheets of her house in San Cristóbal, Venezuela, close to the Colombian border. 

Angel (5) looks through the door of the chemo section of a public hospital in Caracas. His family decided to take him there because of the strong medicine shortage in their home town. Now he travels every 2 weeks to receive chemo.

Angel (5) looks through the door of the chemo section of a public hospital in Caracas. His family decided to take him there because of the strong medicine shortage in their home town. Now he travels every 2 weeks to receive chemo.

Marilyn plays with Angel, who hides every time he knows he will get shot. They stay at a different house of family or friends every time they travel to Caracas.

Marilyn plays with Angel, who hides every time he knows he will get shot. They stay at a different house of family or friends every time they travel to Caracas.

Angel plays while he eats jelly in his temporary house in Caracas. 

Angel plays while he eats jelly in his temporary house in Caracas. 

Marilyn shots Angel every day for 5 days after every chemo he gets since he was diagnosed in 2015. Angel yells and punches everyone around him because he says he can't take the shots anymore. 

Marilyn shots Angel every day for 5 days after every chemo he gets since he was diagnosed in 2015. Angel yells and punches everyone around him because he says he can't take the shots anymore. 

The scar of the first surgery he's had to remove a 3 x 2 inch tumor located in the adrenal gland. He still has cancer cells in his body.

The scar of the first surgery he's had to remove a 3 x 2 inch tumor located in the adrenal gland. He still has cancer cells in his body.

The kids wait in the hospital's stairs for their turn to receive treatment.

The kids wait in the hospital's stairs for their turn to receive treatment.

Marilyn keeps the medicines in a box she carries with her in every trip. She tries to find as much as she can due to the medicine's shortage. "If another mom can't find it and I have it, I give it to her. We're here to support each other", she says.

Marilyn keeps the medicines in a box she carries with her in every trip. She tries to find as much as she can due to the medicine's shortage. "If another mom can't find it and I have it, I give it to her. We're here to support each other", she says.

Marilyn cries in the hospital while Angel plays and receives chemo in Caracas. 

Marilyn cries in the hospital while Angel plays and receives chemo in Caracas. 

Marilyn and Angel look though the window during a trip by bus from Caracas to San Cristóbal. 

Marilyn and Angel look though the window during a trip by bus from Caracas to San Cristóbal. 

Angel's hands.

Angel's hands.

Marilyn's journal of Angel's treatment.

Marilyn's journal of Angel's treatment.

Marilyn hugs Angel during his birthday celebration.

Marilyn hugs Angel during his birthday celebration.

Angel tries to stay warm while his cousins play in the pool during his birthday. He received chemo the day before.

Angel tries to stay warm while his cousins play in the pool during his birthday. He received chemo the day before.

A ball floats in the pool where Angel and his cousins played during his birthday celebration in his home town San Cristóbal.

A ball floats in the pool where Angel and his cousins played during his birthday celebration in his home town San Cristóbal.

Angel in his home town. "The doctor are used to these diagnoses. But we, the moms, can't just accept them. We have to fight until the end to save our children", she says.

Angel in his home town. "The doctor are used to these diagnoses. But we, the moms, can't just accept them. We have to fight until the end to save our children", she says.

MarilynExtras-30.jpg Marilyn, Angel's mother, through the sheets of her house in San Cristóbal, Venezuela, close to the Colombian border.  Angel (5) looks through the door of the chemo section of a public hospital in Caracas. His family decided to take him there because of the strong medicine shortage in their home town. Now he travels every 2 weeks to receive chemo. Marilyn plays with Angel, who hides every time he knows he will get shot. They stay at a different house of family or friends every time they travel to Caracas. Angel plays while he eats jelly in his temporary house in Caracas.  Marilyn shots Angel every day for 5 days after every chemo he gets since he was diagnosed in 2015. Angel yells and punches everyone around him because he says he can't take the shots anymore.  The scar of the first surgery he's had to remove a 3 x 2 inch tumor located in the adrenal gland. He still has cancer cells in his body. The kids wait in the hospital's stairs for their turn to receive treatment. Marilyn keeps the medicines in a box she carries with her in every trip. She tries to find as much as she can due to the medicine's shortage. "If another mom can't find it and I have it, I give it to her. We're here to support each other", she says. Marilyn cries in the hospital while Angel plays and receives chemo in Caracas.  Marilyn and Angel look though the window during a trip by bus from Caracas to San Cristóbal.  Angel's hands. Marilyn's journal of Angel's treatment. Marilyn hugs Angel during his birthday celebration. Angel tries to stay warm while his cousins play in the pool during his birthday. He received chemo the day before. A ball floats in the pool where Angel and his cousins played during his birthday celebration in his home town San Cristóbal. Angel in his home town. "The doctor are used to these diagnoses. But we, the moms, can't just accept them. We have to fight until the end to save our children", she says.