Entrare in una mall di Dubai mi fa venire l’orticaria. Entrarci durante un weekend mi porta a fare una serena autocritica, anche più profonda di quella di Napolitano sui fatti di Ungheria, quando visitò la tomba di Imre Nagy. Entrarci per dover accompagnare chi vuole “fare shopping“, senza che io abbia la benché minima esigenza di acquistare nulla, mi fa recitare dei sonetti del XIII secolo, rendendo onore a Jacopone da Todi:

O Signor, per cortesia, manname la malsanìa!
A mme la freve quartana, la contina e la terzana,
la doppla cotidïana, co la granne ydropesia.

A mme venga mal de dente, mal de capo e mal de ventre;
a lo stomaco dolur’ pognenti e ’n canna la squinanzia.

Mal dell’occhi e doglia de flanco e la postema al canto manco;
tiseco me ionga enn alto e d’onne tempo fernosìa.

Fortuna che avevo compagnia nella Signora Tedesca a Telemetro e sono andato volutamente a ri-scattare un’immagine che ho su pellicola (vedi il post “Un Tuffo dallo Spazio“): non ho ricevuto, ovvio, la stessa sorpresa di quella dopo aver sviluppato l’emulsione e fissato l’argento, ma l’effetto è sempre interessante con qualche variante (e ho aggiunto anche un’altra prospettiva per capire da dove sia scattata la foto) …

retail-surfers-2 retail-surfers-4


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It has been more than fifty years since I began traveling across the world — and the seven seas — for work or for pleasure, always with a Leica M camera close at hand. The camera has never been an accessory; it has been a constant companion, a way of observing, remembering, and making sense of the places and people I encountered along the way. I started keeping this kind of journal some time ago, not as a diary in the traditional sense, but as a space where images and words could meet. This is not a publication driven by schedules or algorithms. At times I disappear for long stretches; then, inevitably, I return with semi-regular updates. Publishing, for me, is a mirror of my state of mind and emotions. It follows my rhythm, not the other way around. You have to take it exactly as it comes. Every photograph you see here is mine. They are fragments of a life spent moving, looking, and waiting for moments to reveal themselves — often quietly, sometimes unexpectedly. This blog is not about destinations, but about presence. About what remains when the journey slows down and the shutter finally clicks.

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