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days of the king

Immagine
Back at the beginning, when I was in my twenties and I had a regular job while I was starting to get into photography, I was hardly interacting with other photographers. Internet was at the very beginning and even if I tried to join some local photographers association I mostly did it totally alone. It was hard to combine my working hours with the association opening hours, so I ended up forgetting about it and keep doing all day solitary walks around my city, Milan. Occasional conversation with people I was starting to write with on the first websites that were starting to appear as an exception in this lonely act. I used to park my car somewhere near Loreto and walk alone in different roads, getting lost and end up on the Navigli Area, or Central Station...the place had few or no importance. Getting lost was, being alone, seeing through my viewfinder and trying to understand something more about me and about what was happening. 15 Years lapsed in this way and so many things happened

until something emerges...

Immagine
A simple table, prints.  Memories, connections. From many years it's always been a similar exercise: looking out to learn what happens inside. And so I spent countless hours in the darkroom, make boxes and I stop and watch, alone with classic music, until a meaning emerge.  Some shadow of surprise.

Tokyo, a suspended trip

Immagine
Recently while I was searching my archive I went through my archive of pictures that I took in Tokyo during a couple of weeks in winter of 2014. Shooting a city that’s it’s always been a symbol so influent on the kind of photography that I always followed and loved is not easy. While I was there I spent several days without shooting close to nothing, I usually need time to feel and understand.  As days went by and I started to make some meetings pictures started coming, but too soon it was time to go back. Now, 6 years after I looked for a picture to print, ONE that could mean the whole trip. I ended up on a previously discarded frame, a corner in Shinjuku, close to Golden Gai, even if apparently nothing is happening, it contains more than any other picture I archived. It contains almost all the sensation of my suspended trip and I can recall how I felt that day, that moment, in that place. I printed, framed and is now hanging in my little studio. In a Pandemic, with no money left and