I was able to attend my first-ever jaripeo this past May and was blown away by the passion of everyone involved. My grandpa was a jinete, and I had always heard stories about his riding days. I was so excited to finally witness the culture he was part of.



El Jaripeo is a Mexican rodeo, usually known for the bull riding that takes place. It’s a dangerous sport, filled with immense effort and love—brutal for everyone involved.



Over 30 bulls were brought from different regions, each one with a rider ready for the challenge. Some of the bulls were experienced, while others were new to the sport—making them easier to spook and more dangerous to ride. Each rider and bull had their own category and scoring system. At the end, whoever scored the highest won a prize. There was a wide range of riders: some participated for the love of the sport, others for the cash prize they needed.



You could feel the adrenaline as soon as you stepped into the rodeo.

It’s a brutal sport for everyone—for the bulls, the riders, and even the spectators.

That’s why some safety measures were put in place, from blessings and prayers to horn wrappings and helmet use.

The day began with the rodeo being blessed, and staff ensured everything was secure before unloading the bulls into the ring. That’s when the fun started. You could see the wide variety of bulls—small and large, old and young.

You also got to observe the relationships each livestock farmer had with their bulls. Several knew how to handle them well, while others were still learning along the way.

Early in the evening, I met a girl whose family were farmers. She and her siblings, along with their father, had been up since 5 a.m. preparing for the big event and getting their bulls ready. She explained the rules of the sport and the strategies involved in releasing the bulls into the ring—how some farmers would blindfold their bulls to keep them calm, while others gave them microshocks to rile them up.

I definitely had my biases. I viewed the sport as a bit exploitative toward the bulls, who had to endure the shocks and kicks.

But it wasn’t until I observed the girl and her family bring out their bull—talk to him, keep him calm, and praise him after his ride—that I realized the amount of love many farmers have for their animals. She showed me pictures of her bull grazing, rolling around on the farm, and told me how important he was to her. You could see how well cared for he was, and it made me realize that many of the farmers there had the same level of love and respect for their bulls. Some even had to disqualify their bulls because they didn’t want to be ridden, and the farmers didn’t want to force them.

Rain or shine, everyone was there.

Even in the rain, the rides continued. People were getting muddy and soaked, yet the smiles and excitement carried on through the night. I was surprised by how much I enjoyed the atmosphere and energy around me.

That was until the reality of the sport hit.

“Chupacabra” took the stage. He had ridden bulls across Oaxaca and had several years of experience. He took on one of the most dangerous rides. He rode the bull for several seconds, the crowd cheering him on—until the bull threw him off.

Everyone fell silent as we watched him try to stand, only to collapse and get trampled by the bull. People rushed to his aid and pulled him—unconscious—out of the ring.



I was terrified, fearing the worst.

Thankfully, he regained consciousness and was immediately aided by the paramedics on site. It made me realize the reality of the sport. It’s brutal.

However, when asked why they do it, the riders respond, “It’s like breathing.” “It makes me happy.”

I’ll be returning in August, excited to shoot more of the sport and dive deeper into its practices. I have a lot of respect for the farmers and riders who honor both the bulls and the sport.

I have been sitting on this lith paper developer for weeks and finally had the chance to test it out. 

My first time trying lith was during my Black&White II class. I fell in love. It adds color and life to black and white. 

I remember talking to a friend and telling them how much I love color and the difficulties I had with shooting in black and white. I always felt like something was missing. Now after trying lith and sepia toning I realized I was always looking for color. 

Lith printing is truly the best of two worlds, adding color to the grays.  

But it's also a difficult and long process. The first lith print I ever made took over 20 minutes for an image to appear, when it usually takes about 3 minutes. If you are into darkroom printing you know there is a lot of trial and error and variables to control. These past darkroom sessions I found out that lith adds five times more variables and the unpredictability of each print. As much as you try, you never get the same outcome. Every print comes out different. 

Figuring out the timing and repeating the same factors to get a similar print requires so much patience(that I am slowly acquiring). There were several times I wanted to throw away the developer but then an image started appearing just before that happened. It became a waiting game. 

With these sessions I wanted to print and experiment with negatives I will be working with for Vol. III of DirtBag. At first, I was thinking of just doing normal prints but now I’m very tempted to make the whole zine purely lith, which will make the process extremely grueling but might become one of my favorite projects.

Every print took about an hour or more to make, with a lot of trial and error. I constantly had to check my chemicals and see whether they were the issue or if the issue was me underexposing the image. I was never sure about my chemical mix and had to learn why certain chemical reactions happened. I learned the terms “snowballs” and “peppering”, shown below. 

As much as I’m complaining about it, it was so much fun and worth the time and struggle. I recommend everyone to try it out!

I’m really excited to dive more into the process. It's so unpredictable, time consuming, a headache, discouraging, with every print I was ready to give up within 20 minutes, but there is this beauty and draw to it that I can’t shake and want to continue to chase.