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Carabinieri in Milan
Milan’s downtown it’s not the most dangerous place out there, nevertheless is always nice to see the Carabinieri walking around…
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Lost Bottles
Forty years’ old dust…
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Ni
Just a couple of broken woods, or the Katakana symbol for “Ni”?
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Luck is an Attitude
That’s an interesting catch. The Latin word for “luck” is “fortuna” that doesn’t mean “luck”, but “fate”. So I’d rather like to be, as an old aphorism from Appius Claudius Caecus says (“Fabrum esse quemque fortunae suae) the “builder of my own fate”.
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What Lasts of a Saturday Night Party
Another week-end is gone. Ordinary life gets kicking-in back.
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Italy, Landscape Photography and the Law
Welcome back to the “Law, Order and Photography in Italy” series. The second episode (the first being about Street-Photography) deals with Landscape Photography and, again, provides practical advise for the photographer who travels through Italy shooting its nature. Summary Landscape Photography, at first sight, looks like a piece of cake. No need to hip shoot, no fear of being confronted by an illiterate policeman or angry passerby, no model-release to carry… just you, your camera and your subject: the Nature. But things, as often in Italy, aren’t that simple since rules and regulations extend (literally) up to the top of the mountains. To put it short, there are a few…
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Lost Cigarettes at Piazza Affari
The Milan Stock-Exchange is just closed, another stressful day is gone, so are the cigarettes
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A Fashion Shop in Milan
In a fashion shop is always hard to tell the difference beween a model and a store clerk.
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Let’s get the party started…
You never know… maybe some fish might slip from the fishermen’s hands!
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The Guardian
Not scaring as a Pitbull would, but still deserving to be handled with care… He didn’t move. Not even when I approached with the camera. Not even when I paused to adjust the lens. He just stared—calm, unblinking, sure of his place. This photo was taken outside a closed wooden structure. Maybe a seasonal shack, maybe a beachside store. The railings were weathered, the wood silvered by sun and salt. Everything about the setting felt unfinished, in-between. Except for him. The black cat sat at the centre like he’d been assigned the role. Not hiding, not curious—just there. Positioned perfectly in the geometry of the fence, flanked by empty space…
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A Portrait on the Nasdaq Building
My fault, I don’t know the name of this man, presumably dead on July 1985. From the background of the picture (the records shown on the up-left corner) I assume that he should be either a musician or somebody active in the recording industry. Nevertheless, what catch my attention was the mix between sadness and joy in his eyes.
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So Long, Eos-M
A couple of days ago, while wandering around a street-market, I spotted a small “exhibit” of old Nikon and Hasselblad lenses. I thought it would have been nice to get the two “classic” lenses for the System V, so I traded my Eos-M (and lenses) for a Carl Zeiss lenses: a Distagon 50 and a Sonnar 150. The seller was eager to strike the deal, but I’m not sure who actually got the best bargain…
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Slow Walk at Mulberry St.
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Late Night Arrival at Bertinoro’s Castle
Hopefully the janitor is still awake…
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The Actor’s Studio
No, the title is not a misspell. To perform as a true artist, the Actors Studio must actually become an actor’s studio.
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Cold Night, Hot Drink
A cold night calls for a hot drink…
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Next Time, Maybe…
This is not the right moment to lunch outside. Maybe next time…
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The Lost Battle
Against the New York traffic, the controllers themselves, contended in vain.
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Fisherman’s Friend
When the course is set back to the dock, at night, there is no better friend than this twin masts to show the way.
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Riviera Life
Nothing to do with Caro Emerald’s tune. Life on a fishing boat isn’t exactly a holiday…
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A Calm Person
In a small village close to the mountains, during an outdoor celebration, I’ve been stricken by the calm of this woman. The troubles of life, at list for once, are light-years far.
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A tribute to an old friend
The Lord Sinclair’s ZX Spectrum has been my first “real” computer, and the only one I really enjoyed. Now he (he, not “it”) proudly rests on a special place of my firm’s library, looking at his dumb heirs.
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A chocolaterie in Bruxelles
What an elegant chocolatier!
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A Tree through the Fog
