I don't know when I first read about Isla de las Muñecas, the Island of the Dolls, which sits deep in the canals of Xochimilco, Mexico. Still, I have been determined to visit and shoot at this mysterious location for as long as I can remember. After finding three of the five fake Isla de las Muñecas, I finally found the real one and spent a few hours shooting, exploring, and connecting with this location over 2,000 miles from my home.
The island's macabre charm and the tragic story behind its creation continue to captivate the imaginations of those drawn into its haunting realm. The journey begins by boarding a Trajinera, a colorful, flat-bottom boat, in the harbor on Xochimilco. The vibrant greenery surrounding the canals contrasts beautifully with the boats and the laughter of locals celebrating life on the water, offering a unique cultural experience that is both captivating and enlightening.
As our boat started to turn away from the laughter and onward to the Island of the Dolls, the atmosphere shifted. The water became quiet, and for two hours, we drifted through it. The air was heavy with whispers of stories past, and our guide offered prayer candles for protection as we exited the boat.
The island is adorned with hundreds of dolls hanging from trees, strewn across pathways, and staring out from the foliage with painted smiles and vacant eyes. Whether pristine or weathered, each doll tells a story of its own, invoking a blend of nostalgia and eerie fascination.
I used my Canon AE-1 35mm camera with a 50mm lens and Color Fuji 400 film; however, my favorite image from that night was taken with my phone. As the sunset and the darkness set in, our guide directed our group toward the boat. I was lingering as long as I could, standing alone, taking in the stillness around me, when I heard a rustle.
I looked down to see a giant white rabbit hop out of the garden and start eating a marigold, the vibrant orange flower whose scent is used to help ancestors return home for Dîa de los Muertos. It was too dark to shoot film, so I quickly took out my phone to snap a picture. I’ll never forget that moment.
For photographers, it offers a canvas rich with emotion and history. Each image captured is a testament to the intertwining of beauty and melancholy, a reminder that even in decay, there is art.
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