-
Waiting Chairs
-
Floating Flower
-
Home on the Range
There’s a moment—right before the shot breaks—when everything else falls away. This frame captures that exact moment. The quiet before the concussion. The balance between intent and mechanics. Taken in a professional range under full control, it documents not violence, but discipline. Focus. Precision. The brass tells its own story: just-fired casings scattered like punctuation marks on the shooter’s rhythm. The rifle rests steady on a bipod—cold, functional, ready. The shooter’s hand is not tense, but deliberate. His chain bracelet glints faintly in the sterile light, an unexpected human contrast to the black polymer and steel. This isn’t combat. It’s not theatre. It’s a place where performance meets protocol. Where…
-
And Justice For All
-
Desolation
I remember standing at the entrance of this narrow underpass, camera in hand, struck by the oppressive stillness. The word “desolation” seemed to settle in my mind even before I pressed the shutter. There was no movement, no sign of life, only the faint echo of my own footsteps on the tiles. The composition is built on geometry and confinement. The corridor acts like a visual funnel, guiding the eye towards the back courtyard and the blank, closed garage doors. The graffiti scrawled on both walls interrupts the symmetry just enough to add texture and a hint of human presence — though not the kind that enlivens a space. The…
-
Is Iron Sky just a sci-fi movie?
-
Trespassed
-
Pipes in Colour
-
Stripes in B&W
-
Hammer and Sickle
The image presents a straightforward urban fragment: an electrical cabinet bearing two layers of graffiti, one in red, one in blue. The red, unmistakably, forms the hammer and sickle symbol — sprayed quickly, with visible vertical striations from the cabinet’s ridged surface disrupting its edges. The blue tag below is broader, more gestural, perhaps made with a thicker nozzle and without concern for the political overtones of what sits above it. Compositionally, the vertical framing suits the subject, containing the entire cabinet and the immediate environment. The flanking pipes and textured wall create a symmetrical boundary, keeping the viewer’s focus on the graffiti itself. The alignment is square and deliberate,…
-
Springtime
-
Final Arrangements Before the Hearing
-
Writer Inspiration’s Tools
-
Too Late
-
Italian Stardust
-
Behind the Glass
-
Room 17 – VIXI
The steel doors of Aula 17 stand closed, expressionless. Matte black, scratched, impassive. Above them, a bureaucratic sign: 7ᵃ Sezione, Edificio B. On the right, a board once meant to list names and hearings is now empty—washed clean by time or intention. Seventeen is an unlucky number in Italy. Rearranged, the Roman numerals XVII form VIXI—”I have lived”, an epitaph. And so, Room 17 becomes more than a courtroom. It becomes a threshold. A place where the living confront endings. The end of freedom. The end of illusions. Sometimes, the end of justice itself. The symmetry of the composition tightens the tension. Every element is locked in place. Nothing moves, and nothing is random.…
-
Legal Apartheid
Two elevators, side by side, divided not by function but by status. On the left, a small sign reads Pubblico. On the right, Avvocati. Between them, a strip of blank wall holds the call buttons and a standard notice: Non usare in caso di incendio. The symmetry is perfect, the contrast sharper for it. In the Court of Rome, this arrangement makes practical sense. Lawyers must move quickly between hearings; delays can derail the fragile timetable of justice. Efficiency demands a separate lift. And yet, looking at it here—reduced to a flat, black-and-white composition—the logic fades, and something else emerges. The brushed steel doors are marked with smudges and fingerprints, traces of the…
-
Too Big To Be Dumped
-
A Haunted(?) House
-
Urban Desolation
-
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…
-
A Broken Gearwheel
I came across this fragment of concrete by chance — two heavy, jagged halves lying on a bed of smooth stones, their shapes echoing the teeth of a gearwheel. It looked industrial, almost mechanical, yet entirely static and inert. There was no motion here, only the suggestion of it, frozen in decay. When I composed the frame, I aimed to make the gear the clear focal point while still allowing the surrounding textures to play their part. The roughness of the stone bed contrasts nicely with the flat, worn surface of the concrete pieces. The diagonal orientation of the gear halves gives the image a touch of dynamism that the…
-
A Green Patch