It’s already been nine months since I started this new photographic project. The learning curve has been steep! I’ve gained many friends and have achieved a basic understanding of a whole new world. Initially, I gave myself three years to complete this project, but not that I know the depth and complexity of this lucha libre world, it will no doubt take me longer.

Nearly every weekend I now attend a fight. I hate fighting; I am a lifelong mediator. But the lucha libre community is one of the most loving, tight, supportive, and joyous groups I’ve had the pleasure of working with. This is a multigenerational, family affair. I have grown to love foul-mouthed, hysterical grandmas engaging in their weekly catharsis from the stress of daily life; quite a few of the kids now hop into my lap or plead for me to take their photo; and I’m connecting the who’s who in these large, extended Mazatleco families. After three early injuries, I now have a better sense of the rhythm of the fights and can predict movements a bit better, though looking through a telephoto lens does not provide peripheral vision!! This project has been a blessing so far. Click on any photo to enlarge it or view a slideshow.

The luchadores are athletes, first and foremost. Their muscles are real, their pain is real, their blood is real, as are their injuries. Yes, they slap the mat as they land a fall or a jump. Some may call that fake. The loud sound does add to the amazement, but the slap also helps break the fall and spreads out the impact of the crash. Yes, the rudos (heels) sort of catch the técnicos (good guys) to break their fall from flight, but without that reality we would not have their flying to delight us.

I am happy to say that I am finally learning who is who in our local lucha libre community. Meeting them in street clothes vs. masked and suited up, some of them with multiple characters, it’s been difficult for my brain-damaged memory to retain. Add to that the fact that they change outfits regularly, and even change masks—at least the colors or design details. Not to mention some of these warriors lose their masks and become unmasked, or vice-versa. Soon I will head to Japan to interview and hopefully photograph fighters there who have studied here in Mexico.

Last night was incredible. Soooooo much aerial work! The children had a field day, as did the adults. The most touching moment of the evening came after the fourth and final match. Antrax, the gargantuan co-founder of Project Lucha, lost his father on Saturday. And on Sunday he showed his professionalism and showed up for the main fight against Culiacán! My respect. I would never be able to show up for work the day after a parent died. He knelt in tribute to his father, as did his arch-rival, the Perro de Culiacán. The whole community joined him in his grief, and what better gift is there than to have friends like that?