Well, I’m so tired of crying, But I’m out on the road again, I’m on the road again” cantavano i Canned Heat nel 1967, e io posso parafrasare “Son così stanco di bestemmiare, ma sono nuovamente nella sabbia. Si, ancora nella sabbia“, essendo arrivato sulla soglia di casa intorno alle 2 di Domenica mattina, con il telefono che inesorabile pompava email peggio che barili di greggio nelle province dell’est dell’Arabia.

Ho passato la giornata tentando di lavorare mentre mi sentivo un’ameba che nuotava nel cloroformio: per ora di pranzo ho alzato le braccia al cielo in segno di resa, ho imbracciato l’asciugamano e sono andato a collassare in piscina fino a quando il sistema nervoso simpatico si è rasserenato e il controllo delle funzioni vitali si è re-impostato in “live-mode”.

Foto? Raccatto qualche out-take di Mosca, che manco ho tempo di respirare ‘sta settimana e poi Sabato punto verso Nord …

moscow outtakes 4 moscow outtakes 3 moscow outtakes 5 moscow outtakes 6 moscow outtakes 2 moscow outtakes 1


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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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