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23 years old. 

So on September 19, 1992, I, Alexandra Moudeve Sanchez was born at 12:05 in the afternoon at Mt. Sinai Hospital in Miami Beach, Florida. 

On September 19, 2015 I turned 23. My parents celebrated by heading down to the Keys for dinner and a quick walk through town. I celebrated by having a small anxiety attack on the car ride down.  

The wondrous 7 Mile bridge. 

As we drove my mind wandered through my current state of affairs.

Living at home with my parents as I transition from carefree college student to working young adult.

I started thinking back to my 8th birthday when I thought surely by 20 I would be traveling across the globe. I thought I'd be on an airplane the moment I turned 23 soaring to yet another unknown territory. 

The most expensive Key Lime Pie I've ever eaten. 

As we neared the restaurant I couldn't help but feel angry. My jaw clenched so tight I couldn't feel my teeth. I was angry. 

Angry that I didn't have an inkling of a full time job. Angry I had started to fill out applications for part time jobs. Angry that I was hoping that a coffee shop would hire me. Angry that I was hoping that retail store was hiring. 

After graduating college with a Bachelors degree in Journalism and Communications surely I could secure a full time job in a matter of weeks. 



It seemed to me that the path to adulthood had seemed so much easier when I was 8. I mean mom and dad did it, couldn't be too tough. 

My mother crossed the border into the USA when she was turning 23; fleeing the Sandinista communist takeover. All's I had to do was get a job. 


Ah. Well it's all about perspective is it not? Crossing the Rio Grande might as well just be emailing the New York Times photo editor. 

Growing is all just about perspective. 

Something I am trying to remind myself on the daily. 

Wet trousers. 

All I need to know is that no matter what I'm going to work my hardest to make the photos that mean something to me. I'm going to have to remind myself that I'll do anything it takes to make those images. Even wet jeans won't stop me. 

The photo is usually worth it. 

So these are the visual accounts of getting through my anxiety attack of being 23 and not knowing what my next move is.

Dipped GoPro's

Because all I can ever do is shoot through the pain, shoot through the fear, through the uncertainty. 

Only then will my art be real- when it's a reflection of real emotion.

Enjoy the fruits of my anxiety friends:  

Submerged GoPro's 

Half in Half out GoPro's

HDRI? Nope. 

Slippery rocks.