This image is part of a wider project, A Book of Nature, in which I have been investigating nature as a social construct for the past decade.

The project tackles the idea that the principle of dysfunctionality and environmental empathy lies in understanding that what we’ve known as “Nature” has nothing to do with Ecology. Framed in an era of ecological emergency, A Nature Book seeks to stimulate ecological awareness and critical thinking about our personal and social relationship with “Nature,” encouraging reflection on ecology as coexistence.

A controversial figure at the now-defunct Lujan Zoo in Buenos Aires, Argentina, was Natalia the tiger. The zoo owner believed that raising big cats like tigers in close contact with humans could tame them. To prove this, he would set Natalia the tiger free in a house and let her move freely.

Today, I'm intrigued by projects that inspire me and ignite my curiosity. I sense a disconnect, an individualistic trend, and a lack of empathy in the world around us. Certain stories have the power to bridge these gaps, encouraging us to step outside ourselves and empathize with other humans or non-human entities.

As a Nat Geo Explorer, I'm drawn to projects that showcase alternative perspectives and ways of interacting with the world. I'm particularly interested in stories from the continent I call home. My focus has always been on understanding the intricate relationship between humans and their environment, whether it's through my long-term work with condors or my exploration of human interactions with various fungi.

This image exposes the artificial divide humans create between nature and culture. As a storyteller, my aim is to weave narratives that challenge our very perception of reality.

In this tale, I set out on a peculiar mission: to find a tiger within the confines of a home. Natalia, the inhabitant, wandered through every corner of the house – the kitchen, the living room, the dining area – while I trailed behind her, observing. Sometimes our paths collided, and I had to step aside, realizing the potential chaos of two wanderers moving without direction. But as Natalia paused upon the bed, I saw my chance to act.

At the start of the year, I set sail on a shrimp boat in Argentine Patagonia. I wished upon the universe for favorable weather, permits, company approval, and a bountiful catch. However, I overlooked one crucial request: good health. Throughout the 14-hour journey, I found myself vomiting 23 times. Unable to stand, I reluctantly abandoned my plans to capture numerous photos and settled for just a few essentials. Relying on the sailors to alert me to each catch, I would muster the strength to take a couple of pictures before succumbing once more. In that moment of frustration and discomfort, I came to terms with the realization that one can only give what one has to offer, and that's perfectly alright.

I find inspiration in the works of artists like David Hockney and land artists such as Andy Goldsworthy, as well as photographers like Rinko Kawauchi, whose immersive photography transports viewers to another world.

I would love to talk with Donna Haraway and Sir David Attenborough. If she were still alive, I would also have loved to meet Claude Cahun and have a conversation with her and David Bowie.

In my project A Book of Nature," which features the tiger photo, I conducted surveys asking people what nature means to them. I was struck by the fact that 70% of respondents described nature as a place devoid of human presence. If we're not considered part of nature, then what are we? What defines humanity?

This leads me to my current project: exploring the modern construction of human identity.

To immerse myself in the Atlantic Ocean and work with sharks.