-
Das Feuerwehr
-
Light Dance in Hamburg
-
We Are All Made of Stars
The street is slick with rain, fenced for works in progress, cluttered with signs and barriers. Yet above it all, the stars have returned — bright, geometric, electric — heralding the slow, luminous arrival of Christmas in Brussels. A lone figure walks toward the camera, wrapped in a scarf and his own thoughts. He is grounded, ordinary, human. But above him, a constellation of neon dreams stretches deep into the vanishing point, inviting passersby to look up, to believe, even if just for a moment. This photograph captures the paradox of the urban winter: cold, messy, fractured — and yet luminous with potential. The construction fences are still up, the…
-
Caparezza – Live@Palamaggetti Roseto degli Abruzzi
-
Menu Meditation
There’s a particular silence in cafés just before ordering. That moment when the cold air from outside still clings to your coat, and all attention narrows to laminated options and the quiet negotiations of hunger. This was taken on a grey afternoon in Brussels. A couple sits across from each other, each reading their own menu as if studying for an exam. No phones. No talking. Just decisions to be made: sweet or savoury, warm or cold, this or that. It’s a familiar ritual, yet rarely observed this closely. What drew me in wasn’t the scene’s drama—there was none—but its quietness. The soft concentration on their faces, the gentle lean…
-
Caparezza – Live@Palamaggetti Roseto degli Abruzzi
-
The Bystander
-
Fujifilm XF 100-400: a quick test
-
A Couple of Windows
-
Max Casacci – Live@Circolo Aternino, Pescara
-
Alone
-
Halt!
-
Not A Rorschach Inkblot
-
Servicing a Sig Sauer P226
-
A Shooter
-
Missed Airplane
-
Is Batman Coming To Town?
-
Sega Codemaster
-
The Quiet Riot
-
Renovating Milan
Milan, November 2017. A construction site—not the kind that demands attention, but the quiet kind that hides behind fabric and scaffolding. I took this photo walking past it for the third or fourth time. What stopped me wasn’t the building itself, but its ghost. Behind the mesh screen, the silhouette of the old façade still lingered, like a memory bleeding through fabric. Chimneys, outlines, the suggestion of windows. The city behind the curtain. At the bottom, the standard construction notice: printed bureaucracy stapled to metal, a reminder that change is always sanctioned, scheduled, structured. But the rest of the image resists clarity. Straight lines waver, verticals drift. Even the fence…
-
The Silent Ceremony
-
Los niños y el tocaor
-
Ramón Jarque, tocaor
-
Red Cross