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Portraits From Nagoro, the Scarecrows’ Village
In the heart of Iya Valley, in Tokushima Prefeture, lies Nagoro, the Scarecrow Village. Half a ghost-town, half a still inhabited place, Nagoro’s main population is composed by about 300 scarecrows spread all around the village.
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Stairway to Hell
This photograph emerged from a fascination with how architecture shifts once stripped of its context. What the lens captured here is, in essence, a flight of stairs. Yet under the harsh saturation of artificial red light and the obliteration of all surrounding detail into deep black, it becomes a surreal passage, one that feels less like a functional structure and more like an allegorical descent—or ascent, depending on how one reads it. The title, of course, plays on that ambiguity. From a compositional standpoint, the image relies heavily on abstraction. The staircase cuts diagonally across the frame, its curve creating a dynamic tension with the void beside it. Negative space…
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Chasing Rainbows on the Open Road
The highway stretches ahead, slick with rain, as a truck hums steadily through the mist. Then, as if drawn by some unseen hand, a rainbow arches across the sky, anchoring itself almost to the truck’s path. In that instant, the mundane transforms: the road becomes a bridge between grey clouds and fragile colour. The scene speaks of quiet journeys and unexpected rewards. The truck, anonymous and workmanlike, seems to carry the weight of routine—deliveries, schedules, miles yet to go. Yet above it, nature paints a fleeting miracle, a reminder that even on a wet and weary road, wonder can appear without warning. The trees along the embankment stand bare, witnesses…
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Lockpicking Tools
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Not A Rorschach Inkblot
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Claws of Fire
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The Day of the Zombies
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Shadow On The Wall
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Inside The Clocktower
I made this photograph standing in the cramped, dusty heart of the clocktower, where the public face of time is reversed, fragmented, and framed by machinery. From here, the bold Roman numerals of the clock are a shadow-play against frosted glass, mirrored in a way that strips them of their usual authority. The word TREBINO—the maker’s mark—appears backwards, as if time itself had been flipped. The challenge in this shot was balance—both in composition and exposure. The brightly lit clock face risked blowing out entirely against the dim, oil-stained gears and pulleys in the foreground. I underexposed slightly to retain detail in the shadows, allowing the face to glow without…
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In Hoc Signo
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A Skull
I made this photograph in near darkness, peering through a narrow stone opening where a skull lay against the rough wall. The framing itself creates a sense of confinement: the viewer sees only what the aperture allows, a forced perspective that heightens the impact of the subject. The starkness of the skull, caught in dim light, is amplified by the deep shadows surrounding it. Technically, the image embraces its limitations. Low light produces grain and softness, yet these imperfections serve the atmosphere. The highlights on the skull’s surface are blown in places, but this uneven exposure adds to the sense of unease, as if the bone reflects light reluctantly. The…
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The Stare of a T800
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Wire Stylist
When I photographed “Wire Stylist”, I was struck by the absurd elegance of decay — a rusted doorbell, its wires splayed like an eccentric haircut. The scene felt alive without life, playful and tragic in the same breath. It wasn’t planned. I noticed it while walking past an old building, the kind of wall that’s been painted too many times and forgotten once too often. The exposed wires twisted outward in chaotic curls, catching light in a way that almost mocked order. The eccentric “hair” needed asymmetry to feel spontaneous. Straightening the shot would have sterilised the humour. I left slight tilt and irregular framing to preserve its found quality.
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Is This My Breakfast? (Kirobo, the new Pinocchio)
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Alien Veins
It could be a close-up from a science fiction set—a fragment of skin stretched over something alive, the faint ridges and channels mapping a circulatory system not of this Earth. The blue-grey surface is both organic and mineral, a texture that resists quick identification. The lines that run across it, some deeper, some fading into the background, suggest veins—arteries carrying whatever fluid an alien physiology might depend on. They seem to rise and sink, as if the surface itself were breathing. The faint crosshatch pattern interrupts the flow, adding to the unease: is this grown or manufactured? In reality, the subject might be utterly mundane. But in photography, truth is…
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Into The Cube
I photographed this concrete corner because of its geometry. The space is small, closed, almost recessive—but the lined patterning on the surfaces gives it a quiet insistence. The vertical grooves on the walls and the rougher texture of the floor create a minimalist composition defined almost entirely by repetition and wear.
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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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Just In Case
Should you have some doubt, by reading the banner you can’t be mistaken. Clarity can be a virtue, even when it delivers its message with the blunt weight of inevitability. Here, a simple blue sign announces the location of the mortuary—not just once, but three times, in three languages. French, Latin, English. No ambiguity, no chance of misunderstanding. Just in case. The composition frames the sign against the muted greys of the surrounding architecture, a deliberate choice to strip away distractions. The words stand out, rendered in stark, functional typography, their neutrality belying the emotional weight of the place they indicate. Photography thrives on layers of meaning, and here the…
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Empty Spaces
This is a fraction of what a single human brain can contain. But today there is no risk of going through the first couple of books.
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Inside the Elevator
Escher’s Relativity inspired these shots.
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A true cricket?
Trust me, this is a real photo.
