Jorge Luna was born and raised in San Juan, Puerto Rico. At the age of 7, he was inspired by a virtuoso circus performance by a troupe called Círcolo. His first camera was a Kodak Ektralite 10 when he was around 12 years old. During his early teenage years, he discovered his addiction to live performance when he started off as a DJ. He particularly loved being smuggled into nightclubs to spin a vinyl or two before midnight. Self-taught in photography, Jorge’s formal training is in acting. His late teenage years and early twenties were highly influenced by multiple jobs, including DJ, car mechanic, server, personal trainer, photographer, and actor. However, it was his DJ/photography/acting pursuit that created a deep, solid foundation that serves him well towards his artistic endeavors. He moved to NYC in his late twenties to pursue acting and photography.

About the work: “I created 98 Days as a social media love letter for my now-wife while she was living and completing graduate studies in Dublin, Ireland from 2015-2016. The first 98 days of finding myself alone in our apartment in New York City were devoted to creating these auto-portraits. It was an attempt at survival. And within this self-preservation venture my premise was to do an auto-portrait session every week, without fail, no excuses. I would select the photograph that would best enclose what my heart was going through at the moment, process that image, and then post it on my personal Instagram account, tagging my wife, of course. Each photograph included its own dedicated epistle/caption—an electronic love letter. 98 Days tries to encompass my never-ending struggle to find who I am as an artist, yet more importantly, what kind of person I become in solitude while missing my life partner. I found myself with this effort—I did. What I found was disastrous, unsightly, yet beautifully engaging. I was fortunate to have experienced this life-changing event and, at the same time, I was able to refocus my plight towards pushing my artistry. Some call this kind of endeavor therapy. Others perhaps call it love. I ineptly call it art—or all of the above.”