Ma cosa fai, vendi cavalli?” chiedo a un tipo che ha dinnanzi a se alcuni cavalli di plastica che farebbero inorridire un collezionista di kitsch, mentre vado verso l’accesso della metropolitana, confermando il fatto che mi metto a chiacchierare con tutti.

Si, anche se oggi mi son definito “sociale come una cavia da laboratorio“, con in effetti difficoltà ad essere parente di me stesso e un numero di amici che posso agilmente contare sulle dita di una mano lasciando anche spazio per gli inserimenti dell’ultima ora, riesco comunque a instaurare un dialogo con sconosciuti con ampia facilità.

“Si sono dei giocattoli, pochi euro”. Mi risponde.

Sai che mi fai ricordare una canzone, ‘A Horse With No Name’, cantata dagli America nel 1972. Bella canzone, anche se un filo controversa la sua ‘ispirazione’, che secondo alcuni è più un ‘copiatura’ da un brano di Neil Young“.

Il tipo mi guarda come se fossi un marziano, e io lo lascio per una notte di musica, birra, dubbi e bestemmie ….

On the first part of the journey, I was looking at all the life
There were plants and birds and rocks and things , There was sand and hills and rings
The first thing I met was a fly with a buzz , And the sky with no clouds
The heat was hot and the ground was dry , But the air was full of sound

I’ve been through the desert on a horse with no name, It felt good to be out of the rain
In the desert you can remember your name, ‘Cause there ain’t no one for to give you no pain
La, la …

Foto? Ovvio, i cavalli ….

horse


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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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