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Inside an Old Gym
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Crate
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Too Big To Be Dumped
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An Old Wi(n)dow
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Marshmallow
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The Heart Of Giulietta
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An Old Camera
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A Haunted(?) House
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Food For Thought
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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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A Broken Gearwheel
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When We Thought We Would Have Changed The World
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Inside the Nazario Sauro
Looking through a watertight bulkhead of the Nazario Sauro, the cold geometry of war endures in steel, cables, dials and cathode-ray screens. The composition is structured by layers: iron framing, claustrophobic corridors, an old radar glowing faintly in the dark. Emptiness fills the frame, and yet it speaks of presence. Of watchfulness. Of command. There are no people here—only ghosts of orders barked, bearings plotted, torpedoes primed. Everything is still, museum-still. But the submarine’s essence hasn’t retired. Its mass, its function, its purpose remain engraved in the very angles and wires now dormant. A chair sits in front of the radar—straight, waiting, unoccupied. It could be yesterday, or seventy years ago.…
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The Lost Lock
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Caged?
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Much Too Powerful a Knock…
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The Cupido’s Fall
There was a time when Cupido ruled the world…
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Longtime Abandoned
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Under an Old Roof
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The Arson
Nobody seems to care…
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Inside a Lost Building
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A Floating Crate
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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.