Raw, complicated, and unapologetically beautiful—that's life, my friend. Blink and you'll miss it. So, amigo, let's skip the tiresome Western formalities and greet each other with the easy familiarity of two strangers about to knock back questionable mezcal shots in some gloriously dubious Mexican bar. The name's Miguel. Welcome to the ride. You'll find me wandering the streets, camera slung casually in hand, seduced by sharp lines, hypnotic reflections, and the glorious unpredictability of humanity—always hungry for the next frame, the next story, the next beautiful collision of life unfolding.

Formally educated in all things design at one of those fancy universities in Mexico—sorry, not sorry; when opportunity knocks, you swing open the door and welcome it in with a drink. Brilliant teachers, even better friends, and accolades that were just icing on a very decadent cake. Call it my bohemian chapter—priceless seasoning for my eyes, hands, and that curious, insatiable brain of mine.

It was there my dopamine receptors found their perfect partner in crime—photography. An analog accomplice, mechanical, relentless, and satisfyingly tactile. A beautiful, exhausting addiction I wouldn't dream of quitting. Guided by the legendary eye of the maestro himself, José Hernández Claire—a mentor whose vision slices straight through the noise, leaving nothing but raw truth and gritty beauty.

A curious traveler—occasionally reckless, often fearless—I touched down in the effortlessly gorgeous city of Vancouver, Canada, sometime back in the fuzzy blur of the 2010s. Here, amidst a deliciously multicultural buffet of experiences, I kicked off yet another chapter: diving headfirst into programming, eyes wide open, appetite fierce. Naturally, my fascination tilted toward UI and UX—the human side of code, the part that seduces, engages, and keeps you hovering, craving just one more satisfying click.

Through life experiences—wandering, hustling, immersing into languages, flavors, and cultures wildly different from my own—I keep sharpening my eye, feeding my creative gut. Every encounter fine-tunes my compositions, trims my reaction time from eye to brain to shutter finger. With every shot, I get closer to the marrow, the raw truth. So here it is: Liebre Negra—my gritty little archive, a curated distillation of years spent chasing shadows, stories, and chaos down the streets of the world.

If you've stuck around this long, thank you—sincerely. But enough chit-chat. Let's cut straight to the greasy, tasty heart of this project: Epitome. And if you're feeling especially generous (or just curious), swing by my Instagram, @miguel_visual_artist. Life's short, my friend—consume it all.