Non ho potuto che cominciare sommessamente a cantare un brano spettacolare di Neil Young appena l’ho visto arrivare zoppicante, con il suo turbante in fine lana che indica la tribù Omanita di cui fa parte.

Old man look at my life, Twenty four and there’s so much more
Live alone in a paradise that makes me think of two
Love lost, such a cost, Give me things that don’t get lost.
Like a coin that won’t get tossed, Rolling home to you.

Mi ha guardato con degli occhi profondi e sommessamente mi ha indirizzato un “Salham aleiku” che, generato da al profondo della gola, attraversava le labbra bruciate dal sole. Si è poi diretto verso il divano dall’altra parte della stanza, quella contrassegnata come “Female Area”: ha appoggiato il suo basto ne sulle sedie e si è sdraiato, continuando a fissarmi.

Old man take a look at my life, I’m a lot like you
I need someone to love me, the whole day through
Ah, one look in my eyes, and you can tell that’s true.
Lullabies, look in your eyes, Run around the same old town.
Doesn’t mean that much to me, to mean that much to you.

Stamani mi ero detto “Devi solo andare in ortopedia, che ti porti dietro la macchina fotografica a fare?“: mi son morso la lingua mentre sognavo il 50mm Summilux per scattare un’immagine di questo momento: a gesti gli ho chiesto se potevo scattare con il telefono. Ha annuito.

I’ve been first and last, Look at how the time goes past.
But I’m all alone at last. Rolling home to you.
Old man take a look at my life, I’m a lot like you
I need someone to love me the whole day through
Ah, one look in my eyes, and you can tell that’s true.
Old man look at my life, I’m a lot like you were.

Foto? Un vecchio Omanita ….

old man in hospital


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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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