Fronteras talk about limits. A people, the Cuban who is locked in a micro world impassable. You can not get out of poverty. A poverty that is palpable. You can breathe. This photographic work finds its identity in the polaroid on the road. The protagonists are the last and I always wanted to represent a disturbing element in the 'image. A "Something that does not make them go out", while a something you can not take it and you can not win is represented by the villas that are vaguely visible and unattainable because they are blocked by vegetation that acts as a filter. Cuba is a state that closes inside the boundaries as the rich and the poor. There is no middle ground. Only Fronteras.
