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Footprints
is it an oil painting, or is it for real?
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When the parking’s lost
When the parking is lost, there’s only one solution.
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Just a soccer match…
This is not an upcoming urban riot. Just a soccer match…
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A Master Luthier in his lab…
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An interesting reading
To seat or no to seat?
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The three musket(b)eer
Guess who’s Porthos?
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The Icecream is ready to be served
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A chat on a lake shore
Countless photos like that have been shot. But enjoying a good moment together always deserves to be recorded
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The Mailbox
No News, Good News.
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Fashionable’s shots
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Iron Gate
When craftmanship meets art.
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A relic from the (recent) past
less than twenty years have gone, and a telephone boot looks like a relic from the Stone Age.
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Rest on the lake
enjoying some fruit.
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Waiting for the goal
Why can’t I enjoy my soccer team’s match instead of wasting my time here? Because my wife loves music…
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Segway Chase in Villa Borghese
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What lasts after a party…
Shot the morning after a wet December night, this scene is an unfiltered inventory of what remains once the bodies disperse. Three bottles—two upright, one half-tucked behind an iron gate—stand in for the absent crowd. There’s no music left, no voices, no movement. Just rust, grime, and the fragile persistence of glass. I framed the shot to keep the human presence implied but never visible. The steps lead nowhere, the iron gate is firmly shut, and the graffiti—hastily sprayed in orange—reads only “KR”, ambiguous and unresolved. That felt important. The story here is incomplete by design. It invites conjecture, not clarity. Technically, this is a study in texture. The marble…
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Knocking on lion’s door
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Still Together
Still together, like the very first day. I saw them before they saw me — leaning slightly towards each other, their posture neither rigid nor slouched, but comfortably suspended in the shared gravity of the table between them. The wine glasses, half-filled with rosé, spoke of time already spent; the unopened bottle on the side suggested more still to come. From a compositional standpoint, I worked with the geometry of the setting — the square table, the vertical lines of the wall, and the quiet interruption of the stone column — to anchor the frame. The couple sit on opposite sides, yet the line of sight between them is unbroken,…
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The missing guest
This image unfolded quietly, almost too politely — three men in jackets and ties sitting at a table clearly set for four. The elegance of the setup, from the pressed tablecloth to the carefully arranged centrepiece, clashes subtly with the anticipation suspended in their posture. Nobody makes eye contact. One reads the menu, the others look downward, pretending focus. The empty chair becomes the central subject without needing to move. Framing was tight on purpose. I let the olive oil bottle in the foreground stand, blurring into obscurity and giving some depth and texture to an otherwise sharply focused core. That slight intrusion also reinforces the perspective: I wasn’t part…
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Late-afternoon’s snack
…who knows what will be served for dinner?
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An Old-Style ATM
This frame came together in the blink of an eye — or perhaps more accurately, in the blur of one. No carefully plotted composition, no tripod, no second chance. Just a brief exchange at a café counter: a plate extended, a hand offering payment, the warmth of human transaction before contactless cards made it all vanish into invisible transfers. The motion blur here is both the flaw and the essence. Technically speaking, the shutter speed was far too slow for handheld shooting in this kind of lighting, resulting in softness across the entire image. If sharpness were the sole measure of photographic merit, this would be an immediate reject. But…
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Who is the mannequin?
… not sure.
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The Urban Chase
Not all of the urban chases, involve a couple of Alfa 159 trying to catch an Aston Martin
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So what?
There is a certain energy in candid street photography that cannot be replicated in a controlled setting, and So What?captures it in full stride. This frame offers a slice of urban life in the late afternoon, when the sun hangs low and the streets teem with a mix of idle chatter, cigarette breaks, and casual posturing. The photograph hinges on the central figure—a tall man in sunglasses, cigarette poised mid-gesture—whose slight tilt of the head and half-smirk seem to issue the titular challenge. To his left, another man, hand to face and gaze averted, projects an entirely different mood: contemplative, perhaps guarded. The third figure, seen only from behind, forms…
