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Open Window
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Bicycle
He wasn’t fast. He wasn’t racing. There was no crowd, no peloton, no finish line. Just a single rider in a red jacket, slowly making his way up the ramp with the morning light at his back. I took the photo because it didn’t feel like sport. It felt like something quieter. The kind of repetition that builds into ritual. The kind of ride that’s not about fitness or medals—but about showing up, again and again, no matter the weather, no matter the hour. There’s a lot said about cycling: the tech, the stats, the watts and splits. But this image reminded me that, at its heart, cycling isn’t a…
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Wire Stylist
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Pillars
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TelcoMan
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Crate
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Red Dot
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Hanging
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An Open Gate
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Bulbs
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A Panorama
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A Fisherman
In a quiet marina, under the forgiving light of the late afternoon, a fisherman tends to his nets. There are no waves crashing, no shouting, no sails unfurling—just the steady, patient work of untangling, mending, preparing. This is not a romanticised image of the sea. There is no dramatic storm, no heroic pose. Just hands worn by salt, wind, and time, labouring over nylon threads that, like veins, carry sustenance from ocean to table. These nets are not merely tools—they are lifelines, a continuation of tradition, a quiet resistance to obsolescence. The photograph captures a kind of devotion: to craft, to survival, to family. Each knot tells of a past…
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Pouring Water Since About 300 Years
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Freeze!
A word. A command. A moment suspended. The photograph captures a wedding not through its sentiment, but through its construction. The couple stands solemn, framed by stained glass and garlands, their faces lit by artificial flashes more than divine glow. “Freeze,” the photographer says. But the word travels further—it crystallises not just the posture, but the entire choreography around them. Like statues in a contemporary ritual, the photographers orbit in silence. Each holds their position, camera drawn like a weapon against time. The irony: in freezing the subjects, they too must freeze. Each frame they take is built on the shared stillness of others. The sacredness of the altar competes…
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Switch
Today is this photo blog’s second birthday.
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Red
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A Call
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Yellow
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Is This My Breakfast? (Kirobo, the new Pinocchio)
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The Man Behind The Croissant
It’s not just a title. It’s a layered truth. He’s literally behind the croissants — arms folded, resting gently on the chilled glass counter, smiling with the quiet confidence of someone who knows exactly what he’s made. But he’s also the one behind them in the deeper sense: the early riser, the flour-dusted craftsman, the keeper of recipes that live more in muscle memory than in ink. The Man Behind the Croissant is a portrait of work and warmth. Of a man whose day starts long before anyone steps into the shop. Who rolls, folds, rests, fills, bakes — not as performance, but as rhythm. There’s no spectacle here. Just trays of pastry…
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Message Check Before Breakfast
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The Leica M9 CCDgate Outrageous Case
This is not “new” news, but is getting momentum: Leica M9′ sensors (including those fitted into the more than expensive “special” models) are plagued. The repair cost is 1.800,00 Euros plus VAT and shipping, not to mention the time needed to get the camera back (weeks? months?) Leica claims to offer paid support to the older, out-of-warranty customers but just doing a few math shows that it doesn’t worth it: if you own a between-three-and-five-years old M9 you’re supposed to pay 600,00 Euros (plus VAT etc.) while more-than-five-years old M9 owner will pay 1.200 Euros (plus VAT etc.) to get an old and outdated camera new sensor, affected by the…
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Branches On The Wall
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Winter Leaves
