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Life Within the Post Office
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A Beverage Dispenser
The scene is dim, almost swallowed by shadow, yet two islands of light remain. At the centre of the frame, a refrigerated Coca-Cola display glows cold blue-white, its bottles and cans lined like soldiers on parade. Beside it, an older vending machine hums softly, its red housing lit from within by a warmer, almost nostalgic orange. Together they form a diptych of light—past and present vending, side by side. This photograph thrives on contrasts: the artificial chill of the drink cooler against the tungsten warmth of the coin-operated relic, the corporate gloss of branded red against the creeping darkness of a closed café. In the far right, upturned chairs signal…
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Duel Inside The Cage
I shot this during an amateur MMA bout—tight quarters, fast motion, uneven lighting, and no second takes. What I wanted was proximity: to feel the tension hanging between the two fighters as they size each other up in the few quiet seconds before contact. I framed it just behind one of them, using his shoulder as a natural vignette to guide the viewer’s eye toward the opponent’s face. The focus is deliberately shallow. I could have chased clarity, but that wasn’t the point. The blurred expression of the man in the background says more than a tack-sharp portrait ever could. His intensity survives the softness. What you lose in detail,…
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An Old Wi(n)dow
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Pavement
Look down. That’s where the history usually hides. This photo was taken not for what it shows, but for what it holds: time, pressure, order, and the slow, quiet work of weather. Pebbles set into concrete. Bricks pressed into place. Moss finding the lines and growing into them without permission. There’s nothing dramatic here—no subject in the conventional sense. Just texture and pattern and subtle, lived-in contrast. Whites, greens, browns, a bit of erosion, and a soft blue cast that comes from early evening or maybe reflected sky. A patch of street that thousands have stepped over without ever seeing. Sometimes photography is about finding the unnoticed—framing a space so…
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Faces in the Façade: A Ghostly Smile in Stone
The camera tilts upward, catching the weathered skin of a building where plaster peels like old parchment. Two circles and an arch, carved decades ago, sit quietly above the passageway. Yet in this photograph, the mind cannot help but play: the decoration forms a round-eyed, wide-mouthed face, its features soft and slightly comic. The resemblance is uncanny—here is the echo of the Marshmallow Man from Ghostbusters, peering down with an oblivious grin. The cracked and flaking surface becomes its aging skin, the faded stucco a reminder that even ghosts of pop culture can find new haunts in architecture. Light and shadow turn structural detail into character. The deep arch below reads…
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Three’s Company
Public benches are theatres of the unscripted. I caught this trio suspended in a casual triangle—neither fully connected nor entirely apart. The geometry between them is tense, not hostile, but uncertain. They don’t pose; they orbit each other, and the moment belongs to that hesitation. The photo hinges on spatial rhythm. The wide format stretches the composition just enough to isolate each figure, but the concrete shadows and the circular bench lock them into an unspoken narrative. The light slices the scene diagonally, a crisp late afternoon beam that exaggerates contrast and textures—the pavement, the blue pillar, even the worn telephone on the left. That phone, by the way, plays…
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Reluctant
It is a simple gesture, easily missed. But in that tension between movement and resistance lies a deeper reading of emotion and instinct. The dog, powerful and proud, lowers its head and anchors its weight as if reluctant to proceed—not from fear, but perhaps from nostalgia, uncertainty, or simply the inertia of old age. There is a moment of friction in this otherwise ordinary urban vignette: the human strides forward, while the dog—the loyal shadow, the constant companion—glances back, hesitates, drags its paws against the direction of motion. The leash, loosely held, is not a tool of command but a symbolic tether. It binds not through force, but through trust.…
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Ottica Boncompagni
Walking through the streets of Rome with a camera in hand, I often find that shopfronts—particularly those that stubbornly resist the homogenisation of modern branding—tell more about a city’s cultural fabric than any monument. Ottica Boncompagni, captured here in this image, is a perfect example. The sign is visually loud, unapologetically retro, and absolutely Roman. The heavy, rounded typography in ochre and crimson recalls a distinctly 1970s aesthetic—an era of optimism and visual experimentation that still clings to the façades of certain Roman quartieri. And yet, this is not kitsch. It’s lived-in design, aged not by affectation but by time and endurance. From a technical perspective, the composition sits squarely…
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A Fence
What drew me to make this photograph was not the fence itself, but the way it interacted with the geometry behind it. The wire grid overlays the diagonal of the concrete stair and handrail, creating a tension between rigid containment and directional movement. The eye wants to follow the slope upward, yet is repeatedly interrupted by the vertical and horizontal bars in the foreground. In terms of composition, the alignment was deliberate. I positioned the frame so that the grid sat almost perfectly square, avoiding converging lines that would soften its structural authority. The diagonal cuts through the otherwise orthogonal arrangement, introducing a dynamic that stops the image from becoming…
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A Grocery Store in Rome
Some photographs emerge not from the pursuit of the exceptional, but from the quiet insistence of the everyday. This frame, captured in Rome, is one of them. I didn’t wait for decisive moments or orchestrate elements. I simply stood in front of this unassuming mini market, with its fluorescent signage blinking “COLD DRINKS” and “APERTO,” and let the banality speak. The storefront is wedged into a stone facade, a brutal contrast softened by the cluttered joy of cheap pleasures: laminated posters of ice creams, fizzy drinks stacked like bricks, and a faded theatre poster wedged between glossy wrappers. You can almost smell the dusty coolness inside — a refuge from…
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A Blue Vespa
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Ramping Up
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Food For Thought
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A Rusted Window
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The Chicken
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An Early Morning Fishing Expedition
I shot this just after sunrise. Light was low but clear, casting long shadows and warming the palette without oversaturating the sand. The three men—two pushing, one walking alongside—form a diagonal that pulls the eye from left to right, through netting, boat, and beach. The scene holds movement without blur. Every element is in transition. I framed from distance using a moderate telephoto to compress the layers—foreground vegetation, safety fencing, beach, and deep field of straw umbrellas. The shallow depth of field separates the action while still referencing the beach’s infrastructure. I let the background stay busy. It adds context, not confusion. Exposure was tricky. Highlights off the boat’s rubber…
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On Air
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Nightlife in Bruxelles
You can smell it before you hear it — the warm hum of beer, laughter, breath crystallising in the cold. This photo, taken in the backstreets of Brussels, isn’t a postcard of nightlife. It’s a sketch. Loose, fast, half in shadow. Which makes it all the more true. Cafés and pubs stack signs on top of each other like citations — Delirium, Floris Bar, Café, Pub, Garden. Every name lit, every door half-open, promising exactly what you need at this hour. But the terrace tables are empty, stacked in rows like punctuation marks between stories. It’s too cold to sit. Too late to be still. The people gather where the…
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Zebra Crossing, Again…
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Quality Check. Try Before You Buy
This image was taken outside a Parisian bookstore, a moment as classic as it is current: a man stands in the entrance, thumbing through a photobook, absorbed but casual. It’s not staged—he didn’t even glance at the camera. He was too focused, as anyone who’s spent hours weighing the purchase of one more photography book will understand. His expression wasn’t about doubt; it was about judgment—quality check, plain and simple. The composition offered itself. Framed by the bookstore’s open door, the man becomes the central figure in a visual funnel, surrounded by vertical stacks of books, postcards, and prints. The image flattens space into layered density—foreground filled with titles, background…
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Portrait of a Professional Pugilist. Davide De Lellis
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Perfect Strangers
This was shot at a crossing in Brussels. Late afternoon, golden hour starting to lean into haze, and the kind of sidelight that makes the most mundane street scenes feel sculptural. I wasn’t looking for a story—I was just following the light. What I got instead was this: two people, frozen in proximity, framed by urban geometry and indifferent routine. They didn’t know each other. That much was clear. No shared glances, no body language suggesting connection. Just two people waiting for the light to change, locked in that brief, suspended moment before movement resumes. But visually, they worked in tandem—her neon green jacket, his mustard ochre coat, both cutting…
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National Security
A danger for the National Security? This picture is nothing special, but for the fact that while I was taking it a security guard at the European Parliament tried to stop me on the “National Security” excuse, by claiming that photos were not allowed. Minding the lesson of “Stand your ground” I countered politely the requests of the guard, by telling him: – First: shooting in public spaces is perfectly legal, – Second: there where no “no-photos allowed” signs, – Third: “I am a lawyer and a journalist. I checked both EU and Belgian Law and find nothing that could prevent me to do what I am doing. Could you…
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Skating on Avenue Louise
The architecture of Avenue Louise is built to impress — symmetrical, imposing, wrapped in glass and concrete. It speaks the language of power, efficiency, and institutional gravitas. Yet here, cutting across the uniformity of its grid, a lone skateboarder defies gravity and symmetry alike. In mid-air, suspended between takeoff and landing, the young skater rewrites the function of space. This plaza wasn’t designed for movement like his — spontaneous, raw, unruly — yet it hosts it with unexpected grace. The stark concrete façade becomes a backdrop, not a boundary. This is the city as canvas, the act of skating as resistance and reinterpretation. While others walk briskly from meeting…
