Why I Stopped Photographing Alcohol

A personal reflection on choosing alignment, walking away from spirits photography, and reconnecting with purpose.

Five years ago, if someone had told me I’d one day be writing about my experience with alcohol — and the ways it’s affected me — I probably would’ve laughed.

Life takes many turns. Long-term plans rarely unfold the way we imagine. Sometimes things turn out even better than we’d hoped, and other times they simply shift or fade away.

We behave in ways that match the stage of life we’re in, based on what we know, what we’ve lived, and what we think it means to live fully.

When I stopped drinking, I didn’t plan to give it up for good. My goal was to take a three-month break and see if it would help lower my cholesterol. But the longer I went without drinking, the better I felt — and that’s how it’s been ever since. It’s now been three years and eight months.

During that first year, I often pictured myself drinking again at parties or celebrations — raising a glass of tequila, mezcal, or beer. On hot weekends I’d sometimes think, “What if I just have one?”

But as I learned more about how alcohol affects my body and mind, those urges slowly faded. I now know I can still celebrate, still raise a glass — just not with alcohol. And that feels right.

In 2019, I took photos for a restaurant and later shared them on my Behance profile. Thanks to those images, the brand Tequila Ocho reached out to me to document the tequila-making process and photograph their bottles in Arandas, Jalisco — the birthplace of tequila.

It was my first paid job with a spirits brand, and I loved it. I was fascinated by the entire process — seeing what goes into a single bottle, the time, the people, the craft. Much like what I’ve experienced with my Bebidas de Oaxaca project, understanding how a drink is made deepens my respect for it.

It was an incredible experience. I remember walking through fields of agave, camera in hand, completely absorbed by the beauty of the landscape and the generosity of the Camarena family and the Tequila Ocho team.

From that first shoot, a relationship began that I’m still grateful for. Over the years, I’ve continued photographing their fields, their bottles, their factory — and the agave landscapes that surround it all.

Other tequila and mezcal brands have contacted me since then, and my knowledge of these traditions has grown with each project.

My favourite part has always been the fields — watching the sunrise light up the texture of the magueyes, the way the sky slowly fills with colour.

Some mornings it’s all soft pastels, other times it glows in deep orange.

Life gradually started pointing me toward becoming a spirits photographer. Bit by bit, I began working with more clients in both Mexico and the United States — photographing bottles, cocktails, and bars. My portfolio in this area grew quickly.

In Mexico, cocktail and spirits photography is still a niche — far less visible than in other countries. But with more bars opening and restaurants including cocktails on their menus, the field has begun to grow.

At the time, I was sharing only spirits-related projects on my website, as that was the type of client I was trying to attract. I followed related accounts on social media to connect with them directly. Even my LinkedIn profile said, “Specialised in agave spirits photography.”

All of that will start to disappear, little by little — because I’ve decided to step away from photographing alcohol and distilled spirits.

It hasn’t been an easy decision. And it’s not one I’ve taken lightly. I’ve been sitting with this idea for over a year now, but part of me didn’t want to face it.

Spirits photography, I’ll admit, is well paid — though like everything else, it depends on the brand and the reach of their product.

Over the years, I’ve worked across various industries — metalworking, energy, food, agriculture, corporate, fashion, restaurants — and I can say that the budgets in the spirits world have been among the highest.

That financial reality has been the root of an internal conflict I’ve carried for some time. We work where we can, where it pays the bills, where it supports our family. But it made me ask myself:

Do we put our values on pause when we’re in need?

These days, the lifestyle I lead — along with meditation and daily writing — have helped me become more aware of my thoughts, my words, my actions, and the environment around me. In short, they’ve helped me be more present.

Learning is a path that never ends. And sometimes, we don’t learn when we want to — we learn when life decides to teach us.

That’s what led me to start reflecting more deeply on my work and how it connects with my way of life. Since I stopped drinking alcohol, I began to feel uneasy whenever I photographed mezcal or tequila. Something felt off, but I couldn’t quite name it.

I’d tell myself: I’m just taking the photos — I’m not the one making people drink. It’s not my fault if someone gets drunk. It’s just a photo.
And I’d sit with those thoughts for days, turning them over. Questioning what I was doing and how my actions might affect others.

Recently, I decided to do a personal inventory — to really look at what I feel and what makes me uncomfortable. I made a list of pros and cons about my choices, where I want to be in the future, and what gives me peace of mind.

And I came to the conclusion: photographing alcohol while not drinking it doesn’t sit right with me.
They’re two opposing forces that no longer coexist in my life — and I can’t ignore that without feeling dishonest.

At this point, I won’t be going back to drinking. At first, I stopped for health reasons (and I still do), but now that I know the benefits of not drinking — and I’ve lived the difference — I have no reason to return to it.

Maybe it sounds extreme. Even my wife told me not to quit (as I write this, she still doesn’t know I’ve made the decision).
Maybe you're thinking, people will drink anyway — whether I photograph spirits or not.

And I think that’s a fair point. I’ve had those same thoughts. People will always have opinions, and I’ll never please everyone.
There will always be “but what if…”
So the only thing that truly matters is doing what makes me feel at peace, aligned, and true to my values.

It’s a long journey, but I can’t afford to be dishonest with myself. Photographing something I no longer consume — knowing the harm it causes — takes me further from the future I want to build.

That’s also why I’ve unfollowed alcohol brands on social media. In the end, we shape our feed with what we choose to consume — visually and mentally.

I don’t know what will happen when I share this. But right now, as I write it, I feel lighter. Like a weight’s been lifted.

I know I might lose some friendships, invitations, or commercial opportunities. But none of that matters at this moment.
What matters is how grateful I feel for everything I’ve learned — and I wouldn’t trade that for anything.

There are still photos of mezcal and tequila projects on my website — but that doesn’t define me, either as a photographer or as a person.
From now on, I want to slowly share more of what I believe in — and what’s helped improve my health.

As a photographer, I’d love to work with clients who prioritise the environment and the wellbeing of the people who live on this planet — whether that’s through products, services, or experiences.

The alcohol industry is changing. More and more alcohol-free options are becoming available, and it’s increasingly common to meet people who don’t drink.
Maybe one day I’ll collaborate with brands that focus on non-alcoholic drinks.
Or maybe I won’t.
Like I said at the beginning — life takes many turns.

What I know now is this: I feel at peace saying goodbye to photographing spirits and alcoholic drinks. It feels honest — and that honesty brings me joy. This is more than a personal shift; it’s a creative one too.

I want to keep building a body of work that feels nourishing, intentional, and aligned with the kind of future I believe in. If you're a brand, café, or project that shares these values,

I’d love to hear your story. Let’s create something meaningful, together.