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Wet Socks
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An Attentive Listener
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The Soul Of Politics
There are moments in public life when the abstractions of policy, ideology, and governance are distilled into something intensely human. The Soul of Politics captures such a moment—raw, immediate, and deeply personal. Here, the focus is not on the grand stage or the official podium, but on the energy and conviction of a single individual, set against the hum of a gathered crowd. The central figure, a woman framed mid-action with two flags in hand, dominates the image both physically and emotionally. Her posture—arm raised, face set with a determined focus—anchors the scene. The flags, their colours vivid against a muted background, slice through the frame with a visual rhythm…
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The Lost Church
There’s a peculiar stillness to places abandoned to time. This old church, half-standing and half-claimed by nature, radiates a kind of quiet defiance. The arches remain intact, elegant in their geometry, even as the roof has long given way and the nave has filled with weeds and tall grasses. When I composed the frame, I wanted to place the arches as the structural rhythm that guides the eye. The diagonal sweep from the lower right to the upper left pulls you naturally towards the surviving façade. The wild vegetation softens the geometry, adding texture and colour — greens, yellows, and browns — that contrast with the pale limestone. Technically, the…
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Once A God
Poseidon emerges from above the sign like a relic of popular imagination—muscular torso, crown, and trident, his authority now reduced to advertising. Below him, the oversized fish and bold lettering spell out his name with certainty, though the plaster figure betrays wear, paint faded and surfaces weathered. It is not divinity but decoration, a reminder of how myth survives in commerce. Composition stresses perspective: the low angle forces the viewer to look up, as if paying homage, yet the clean blue sky strips the scene of grandeur, leaving only figure and name. The fish’s body stretches across the lower frame as a pedestal, while Poseidon’s arms, frozen mid-gesture, create diagonals…
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Bikers
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Bent
Shot with a Nikon F3 and a 16mm fisheye, this isn’t your typical curved-sky, skateboard-in-midair kind of photo. Instead of pushing the distortion to the front of the image, I let it sneak in at the edges—just enough to bend the rules. The subject is ordinary: a coastal bridge, a pedestrian path, the usual lampposts lining a curve. But the lens pulls the whole scene inward, gives it weight and sweep, turns a flat space into something that stretches, leans, folds in on itself. I like using fisheye glass this way—not as a gimmick, not for laughs, but to see how geometry shifts when you force perspective without centring it.…
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The Shooter’s Dilemma
I took this during a routine shooting session. The man wasn’t posing. He was checking his grouping, arms crossed behind his back, body still, gaze locked forward. The target hangs silent. No smoke, no sound, just aftermath. The image is built on symmetry and distance. I framed from behind, dead-centre, letting the shooter’s back align with the silhouette’s head. They overlap in posture and scale. It’s a quiet mirroring—two figures facing off, one made of flesh, the other paper. Shot wide open at f/2.8, focus sits on the shooter’s shoulder line. The target softens just slightly—enough to retain its shape, not enough to compete. ISO at 800, shutter at 1/160s.…
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Portrait of a Perinatal Cardiologist
Salvatore Gerboni, MD, is an expert perinatal cardiologist and a great human being.
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The Street Photographer Rights In Italy. The Leaflet
Here is an easy-to-carry A4 leaflet to be used in case you are confronted by a law enforcement agent of officer that question your Street Photography activity. Legal issues apart, please remember to always be polite and to help the officer not to look goofy or ignorant (as he actually would) in front of the public. Q. Does taking people’s photography in public spaces infringes sec. 615 bis of the criminal code? A. NO. Under the Corte di cassazione ruling n. 47165/2010 outdoor there is no reasonable privacy expectation, as there is no reasonable privacy expectation in case of tacit – while non equivocal – withdrawal of this right, as…
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Just Another Times Square View
Memories from the past…
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A Dragon Trainer?
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Mulberry Street, When Benito II Was Still There…
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Line Of Fire
This image was taken inside a shooting range, but I wasn’t there to document firearms. I was drawn to geometry, symmetry, and control. What struck me was the sheer order of the space. Every line — from the foam cladding to the shooting lanes — channels the viewer’s gaze forward. You don’t look at this picture. You’re funnelled through it. Technically, the space presented a challenge: low, mixed lighting and reflective surfaces. I shot handheld, wide open, leaning into the natural light spread to keep shadows soft and detail intact. The overhead panels, designed for acoustic insulation, created an unusual texture that became an integral compositional element. The ceiling almost…
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Mind The Gap!
I made this photograph standing almost flush with the wall, pointing the lens straight up into the thin slice of sky framed by stone and metal. The subject is not the building itself but the uneasy conversation between its decaying ornamentation and the open void above. The fractured balcony edges lean toward each other without touching, creating a tension in the composition that pulls the viewer’s eye toward the bright gap. From a compositional standpoint, the choice of perspective is both a strength and a limitation. The severe upward angle forces strong converging lines, which add a sense of depth and slight unease. However, the proximity of the elements means…
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Oops!
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Arriba El Mexico!
Proud to be a native American!
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A Zeppelin in The New York Sky
New York, 2000. I remember looking up from the crowded streets and seeing it — a zeppelin, drifting slowly above the jagged canyon of Midtown’s architecture. In that moment, it felt like something out of a different century had quietly slipped into ours. I didn’t have much time to think; I just framed, focused, and released the shutter. The composition is as much about absence as it is about presence. The airship is small, almost swallowed by the negative space of the sky, yet the buildings act as monumental bookends, forcing the eye toward the centre. The turquoise cast of the glass facade on the left and the warm brick…
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Just A Bird
The small sparrow resting on the green stalk caught my attention not because it was rare, exotic, or particularly dramatic, but because it was simply there. A fleeting pause in the ordinary rhythm of the day. The late afternoon light wrapped both bird and plants in a warm, almost golden atmosphere, softening the edges and bringing out the textures of the leaves and flowers. From a technical standpoint, the composition is clean yet unforced. The sparrow is positioned off-centre, allowing the surrounding vegetation to balance the frame. The diagonals created by the leaves and the blurred background help guide the eye naturally towards the bird without resorting to obvious tricks.…
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Streetlight Duet
Late-day sun is the best kind of collaborator—less commanding than noon, more generous than twilight. It brushed the scene just enough to lift texture from skin and fabric without blowing out detail. I didn’t ask them to pose, but the casual lean against the car and the hand over the guitar’s body settled naturally. That balance between intimacy and performative posture intrigued me. This shot could have easily slipped into cliché—two musicians and a guitar, the standard fare of street portraits. But the subtle discord between expression and energy saves it. One wears a smile that could go either way: pride or deflection. The other looks on with the quiet…
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Just A Cat
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The Spanish Sense of Flesh – 2
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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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The Spanish Sense of Flesh – 1
