A folding chair, swimming goggles and a bottle of Lidl sunscreen somehow became some of my favourite photos of the morning. The lesson? Interesting props don’t need to be interesting. Sometimes they just need to give the person in front of your camera something to do.

The location, styling and pose can all be planned. But often the photograph that feels most alive happens in the second nobody expected, while the model is laughing, struggling with a bottle or caught between poses.

A hidden pier, no phone signal, slippery rocks, too much heat and two girls with bags full of bikinis. An afternoon with Celina and Chiara that reminded me why the best photos in Ibiza usually happen somewhere between the plan and whatever the hell happens instead.

Sara brought her boyfriend’s longboard. I brought a crop top I had attacked with scissors. Add a cold Radler, an XXL bag of cheesy snacks and a closed inmobiliaria, and somehow we had my favourite photographs of the afternoon.

Sara Strawberry was late for our sunrise shoot at Cala Comte in Ibiza. Normally, that would be a problem. But somehow, the sun was late too. What started as a slightly chaotic morning turned into one of those shoots where everything suddenly clicks: blue bikini, golden light, tanning oil, sharp rocks, a tiny green bikini, and a model who turned out to be much more playful, confident, and comfortable in front of the camera than I had expected.

Ten days in Ibiza somehow felt like three days and an entire summer at the same time. I came home with thousands of photos, hours of video, full memory cards and far too many memories to fit into one post. Some came from the shoots. Others were simply quiet swims, sunrise drives, paddleboard adventures and time spent exploring the island with Wendy.

This is not the complete story of the trip. It is a little bit of everything: unseen photos, behind-the-scenes moments, beautiful women in tiny bikinis and a glimpse of the Ibiza summer I somehow brought home with me.

The first time I met Mica, I honestly had no idea what the shoot would become.

She had seen photos I had taken with her friend Daniela and wanted something with that same feeling of freedom. So before sunrise, while Valencia was still half asleep, we drove to an empty beach near Playa Sidi Saler.

Within minutes, I realized I had completely underestimated her.

“You’re so lucky, bro.”

That’s what people say when they see the beach, the sun, the girls, the lifestyle.

But what they don’t see is the decisions behind it. The risks. The hundreds of messages that never got replies. The slow process of building something from nothing.

This isn’t about luck.

It’s about responsibility… and what happens when you finally take it.

10 seconds after this, everything changed.

It started like any other sunrise shoot… calm, predictable, controlled.

And then she ran.

Some moments you plan. Others take over before you can think. This was one of those.

Five years later, I finally understand why this photoshoot stayed with me.

At the time, it felt like nothing special. Just another hot afternoon in Valencia. Just another girl I had picked up for a shoot. Just another beach day that came and went.

But looking back now, I realize something.

Some of the moments that shape you the most don’t feel important when they happen.

They feel easy.

They feel natural.

And that’s exactly why you don’t see them for what they are… until it’s too late.

I wasn’t scared of the photos.
I was scared of what people would think of me.

Not the shoots. Not the girls. Not even the nudity.

Just the moment where I’d have to explain it to someone new… and feel like I needed to defend it.

That’s where most people get stuck.

Not in what they do… but in how they feel about being seen doing it.

This is about what changed when I stopped explaining… and started owning it.

If you walk past enough photoshoots, you’ll eventually notice something strange.

A lot of them don’t actually sound like photography sessions.

They sound like yoga classes.

“Relax your shoulders.”
“Lift your chin.”
“Turn your head a little.”
“Arch your back.”

And if you closed your eyes, you might expect the photographer to add: “Great. Now slowly move into downward dog.”

I know this style of directing very well. Because early in my photography career, I did exactly the same thing.

But over time I realised something important: the more someone thinks about their body, the less natural they look in front of the camera.

And that realization completely changed how I direct photoshoots.

People ask me all the time what camera I use.
What lens. What settings. What f stop.

But here’s the thing nobody wants to admit.

When someone looks at your photo, they don’t feel your gear. They feel your intention. They feel the light. They feel the mood.

In this article, I break down why understanding light and training your eye will always matter more than upgrading your camera… and how shifting that mindset completely changed the way I shoot.

Some photoshoots follow a clear plan. Others refuse to stay in one mood. What started as a playful idea on a pedestrian bridge with Shirley turned into an afternoon of shifting energy, unexpected moments and pure heatwave chaos. No script. No fixed concept. Just a late September day in Valencia that kept reinventing itself with every new location, every new look and every laugh along the way.

Is a photoshoot sensual because of what someone wears… or because of how they show up?
This HEATWAVE Diaries entry follows a morning in Ibiza with Giorgia that slowly shifted from playful swimwear to honest nudity and back again. Not a story about escalation, but about presence. About calm confidence. About discovering that sometimes the most powerful energy in front of the camera has nothing to do with clothing at all.

We were pretty psyched to go shoot another sunrise in Denia. And when I say “we,” I mostly mean me. Cheyenne stood in the kitchen fresh out of the shower, wrapped in a towel, holding a cup of coffee and giving me that look that said this better be worth it. The sun never showed up the way we hoped, but what we got instead was something quieter, more natural, and far more important than perfect light.

It was the last day in Málaga, after four days of shooting together during the Heatwave Escape. No plans left. Just time.

What started as a few relaxed photos in the garden slowly drifted into a quieter, hidden corner I’d been watching all week. The energy shifted. The moment softened. And somewhere along the way, the bikini top quietly stopped being part of the scene.

This isn’t a story about escalation. It’s about those rare moments that feel private, unclaimed, and almost accidental. The kind of moments that stay with you precisely because they feel like you weren’t meant to see them at all.

At some point that morning, Chiara was the one holding the camera.
That wasn’t the plan.

What started as a simple beach shoot slowly turned into something more playful, more unexpected. Roles shifted, instincts took over, and the lifeguard stand became the backdrop for a moment that felt too real to plan. Some shoots follow a script. Others unfold on their own. This one definitely did the latter.

I thought we were shooting a quiet hiking set. Shorts, a crop top, something relaxed.
Yami showed me bikinis instead. I hesitated. Then she asked if I had scissors in my camera bag.

I did.

Five seconds later the bodysuit was history, replaced by a DIY crop top, red bikini bottoms, and hiking boots. From that moment on, the plan stopped mattering.

What followed was one of those days that reminds you why shooting with the right person changes everything. When someone understands your vibe, you stop directing and start reacting. And that’s usually when the photos get good.

Two girls. Both 18. Waiting for a bus in bikinis under the Spanish summer sun.
A quiet summer moment from 2020 that taught me what freedom actually looks like — simple, unbothered, and slightly out of place.