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Dreaming Of Giulietta (sprint)
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An Old Lady in Great Shape
There’s something about old cars that asks you to listen before you look. You don’t photograph them—you make their acquaintance. This shot was taken inside an Alfa Romeo Giulia. She’s a machine from another time, but she doesn’t wear her age like a burden. The patina on the steering wheel, the soft wear on the dashboard controls, the dusty glow on the gauges—they don’t speak of decay, but of use. Of stories lived in full throttle and long idles. I didn’t stage this frame. I simply opened the door and saw her waiting there in quiet elegance. The light slipped through the glass just enough to kiss the rim of…
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Not A Photography Anymore
I approached this shot with the intention of exploring the point at which photography begins to lose its documentary role and drifts into the territory of constructed image-making. The Leica M9, with its CCD sensor, is unforgiving in its rendering of highlights, and here I chose to exploit that to push the tones far beyond their natural state. The result is an image that wears its artificiality openly. The composition is rigidly symmetrical: three vases, evenly spaced, under a line of metallic coffee pots and creamers. The symmetry is disrupted only by the interplay of colours — magenta, amber, and white — and the bold shadows they cast. These shadows…
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An Off Duty Anchor
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Efesto’s New Production Line
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A Haunted(?) House
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Urban Desolation
This photograph is part of a study I’ve been developing on marginal architecture—spaces neglected by urban development yet still clinging to presence. The building isn’t ruined in a picturesque way. It’s just exhausted. Scarred concrete, flaking plaster, and rusted grates stand as accidental testimonies of permanence beyond usefulness. I composed the frame to draw the viewer’s eye along the length of the structure, ending with the blurred outlines of new buildings in the background. The juxtaposition isn’t subtle—it wasn’t meant to be. These walls hold layers of past usage, from the makeshift repairs to the graffiti tags now fading like old memories. Technically, the photo rides a fine line between…
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Street Crossing
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Ramping Up
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Windows
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Food For Thought
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Empty Street in Rome
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An Old School Workstation
It’s not just a desk. It’s a time capsule. A stack of worn books. Pages thick with annotation and use. The chipped edge of a hardcover bent from years of handling. And just out of focus, the heavy presence of a typewriter—silent now, but once the loudest voice in the room. This photo is titled An Old School Workstation, and it says more than it shows. There’s no screen here, no cursor blinking for attention. Just tools. Weighty, tactile, deliberate. This was how knowledge was built—layer by layer, keystroke by keystroke, turned page after turned page. The contrast to today is hard to ignore. Now we scroll, we skim, we tap…
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A Rusted Window
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The Chicken
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A Sailors’ Warehouse
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Autumn Leaves
There’s nothing particularly striking about this photo at first glance. Just a flower box tucked against a weathered wall. A few green leaves still stubbornly clinging on, others browned and curled, caught mid-fall. It’s the kind of street element you pass without noticing, or maybe glimpse and forget. And yet, it’s a portrait — not of a person, but of a moment in life. That in-between moment.When you’re no longer young, but not yet old.Not blooming, not dying. Just… suspended. There’s resilience in the remaining green, still pushing out colour despite the changing cycle. But there’s no hiding the signs of decline. Age creeps in at the edges first —…
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The Shoesfixer
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God Save the Queen!
The Union Jack, proudly emblazoned—not on a mast or parade, but wrapped around the rear-view mirror of a Mini Cooper. Once a symbol of British ingenuity and resilience, the Mini now serves as a rolling contradiction: a British icon, manufactured under the ownership of German automaker BMW. This photograph, titled with deliberate irony, compresses decades of cultural transformation into a single detail. “God Save the Queen” here becomes less anthem than marketing slogan. The monarch’s presence lingers not in statecraft or ceremony, but as a lacquered pattern on consumer machinery. The mirror itself is a fitting metaphor. It reflects, but only partially. What was once national pride has become exportable…
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The Lost Hotel
I photographed this derelict façade in an Italian town on a walk that started with no intention and ended with this frame. “Albergo Aterno,” barely legible beneath a coat of turquoise decay, is what’s left of a forgotten hotel. I didn’t need to know its history to feel the abandonment radiating from every peeled layer of plaster. The frame is pulled tight—the architecture becomes a subject in itself, the wires and conduit lines accidentally composing a crude symmetry that holds the chaos together. This isn’t a pretty picture, and that’s the point. The scene punishes clean aesthetics. Harsh light from the afternoon sun exacerbates the texture—flaking walls, rusted metal, and…
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Fishing Shelter Under The Bridge
Photographs like this one always pull me in—not for their glamour, but for their quiet, unvarnished truth. This image, titled Fishing Shelter Under a Bridge, captures a space that seems to exist on the fringes: part makeshift workspace, part refuge, part survival mechanism. The fishing net suspended in the frame is not the tool of a hobbyist, but a means to secure food, a reminder of the precariousness of life for some. From a compositional perspective, the photograph is anchored by a strong sense of depth. The viewer’s eye is naturally drawn from the shaded, cluttered foreground toward the brighter, open water and the moored boats in the distance. The…
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London Swash
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Ready for lunch
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TicTacToe
There’s a curious satisfaction in photographing something utterly ordinary and discovering that it holds more visual weight than you’d expect. This playground tic-tac-toe frame caught my attention not because of its intended purpose — a children’s game — but because of its worn, slightly battered state. The fading X’s and O’s spoke of countless small hands spinning those yellow cubes, of games that probably never reached a conclusion before someone was called away for ice cream or a turn on the slide. I framed it dead-centre, allowing the game board to occupy most of the image, boxed in by the green plastic casing. The symmetry gives the photograph a formal,…
