Horas Mias (Hours of Mine)
2026
Photography, Dummy Book
The project “Horas Mías” (“Hours of Mine”) starts with the discovery of my grandmother’s personal diary, written a few years before she died, after her doctor recommended she exercise her memory following an early diagnosis of Alzheimer’s disease.
Over a period of three months — from October to December 2013 — she wrote down the small events of her days: the weather, phone calls she received, visits, meals, the news on television, the money she spent or was left in her wallet. These notes, focused on the most everyday details of domestic life, slowly reveal the monotony of a shrinking routine and, at times, the sadness that this repetition brought. As she writes, the deterioration of memory becomes more present, along with repetition and a growing difficulty in placing things in time.
The project creates a dialogue between these writings, photographs from family albums intervened with collage, painting and embroidery, and a glossary of 29 words that I selected and defined, each one linked to a ceramic object later photographed. These objects are based on things that appear in the family archive or that I remember from my grandmother’s house. From all of this, I reconstruct stories from the diary, memories she told me, and also scenes that I imagine might have existed.
The book also includes the quotations that appeared at the bottom of each page of the original diary, published in 1945 and kept by my grandmother for decades until she returned to it at the age of 88. These texts, written only by men, describe how a woman should behave, think and live, from a very masculine point of view, and they open up a wider cultural and generational layer that runs through the work. In a way, the project brings together three voices: my grandmother’s voice in the diary entries; my own voice, through the words and definitions of the glossary; and the voice of the diary itself, in these quotations.
Although memory is one of its main threads, “Horas Mías” also looks at old age and the different kinds of loss that come with it: losing autonomy, physical fragility, frustration, loneliness, nostalgia. At the same time, it reflects on domestic female life and caregiving work.
Over a period of three months — from October to December 2013 — she wrote down the small events of her days: the weather, phone calls she received, visits, meals, the news on television, the money she spent or was left in her wallet. These notes, focused on the most everyday details of domestic life, slowly reveal the monotony of a shrinking routine and, at times, the sadness that this repetition brought. As she writes, the deterioration of memory becomes more present, along with repetition and a growing difficulty in placing things in time.
The project creates a dialogue between these writings, photographs from family albums intervened with collage, painting and embroidery, and a glossary of 29 words that I selected and defined, each one linked to a ceramic object later photographed. These objects are based on things that appear in the family archive or that I remember from my grandmother’s house. From all of this, I reconstruct stories from the diary, memories she told me, and also scenes that I imagine might have existed.
The book also includes the quotations that appeared at the bottom of each page of the original diary, published in 1945 and kept by my grandmother for decades until she returned to it at the age of 88. These texts, written only by men, describe how a woman should behave, think and live, from a very masculine point of view, and they open up a wider cultural and generational layer that runs through the work. In a way, the project brings together three voices: my grandmother’s voice in the diary entries; my own voice, through the words and definitions of the glossary; and the voice of the diary itself, in these quotations.
Although memory is one of its main threads, “Horas Mías” also looks at old age and the different kinds of loss that come with it: losing autonomy, physical fragility, frustration, loneliness, nostalgia. At the same time, it reflects on domestic female life and caregiving work.
Dummy Photobook
2026
296 pages
Spanish-English
17x24 cm
Credits:
Family archive: paintings, embrodery and collages by Justina Leston
Ceramics: Justina Leston
Diary entries: Elena “Piba” Hernández
Glosary entries: Justina Leston
Graphic design: Justina Leston
Editing: Justina Leston y Lorena Fernández
This book was developed during the 2025/26 edition of FOLIO by PHmuseum under the mentorship of Nicolas Polli.
2026
296 pages
Spanish-English
17x24 cm
Credits:
Family archive: paintings, embrodery and collages by Justina Leston
Ceramics: Justina Leston
Diary entries: Elena “Piba” Hernández
Glosary entries: Justina Leston
Graphic design: Justina Leston
Editing: Justina Leston y Lorena Fernández
This book was developed during the 2025/26 edition of FOLIO by PHmuseum under the mentorship of Nicolas Polli.
