Willoclick

Iron Fence - Dublin 2015 The quote is always in the air. For a photographer, it is always near a fence ... It is a way to "hold fast" to the strength of an image that has made history, and to that all-too-rigid message of separation on which perhaps all rhetoric on photography is based, the apparent separation between the observer and the observed. In reality, there is no division. I am not simply the observer but the very principle of observing, which would not take place without the presence of the observed. So the fence is just a deceptive concept of the dualistic world, and perhaps the time has come to let go, and finally get rid of this false idea. The image remains, as a not caused event.

Lisbon 2015 "I remember well standing at that one window and just watching the flow of life," said Dorothea Lange, and the phrase reminds me the methods of self-observation and meditation so essential in a spiritual path. Looking at ourselves from the outside, observing the thoughts and frenetic activity of our mind, framing, selecting, archiving these mental events just like images, is the way to silence. And in silence awareness arises. From a window in its widest sense (an overpass, an elevated terrain, a privileged position ...) the photographer observes the flow of life and by carving it out, he tries to make sense of it. At the same time, the spiritual path passes through the inner observation, and the similarity of the two rituals is absolutely not accidental. Spiritual activity is based on looking, which is apparently a passive modality, but that in fact produces great changes. Beyond the objective, the road unwinds towards the horizon, an unchanging asphalt carpet on

Man on the bench - Lisbon (2015) Spoken photography in exchange for a tsunami of images. Reducing the selection to the bone to explore in words the place where all this comes from. I have a particular relationship with almost all my photos: I find them indiscriminately significant but superfluous. Some of them can stand alone, but most of them only make sense when they are part of a stream. Travel, both as a metaphor and as a real event, is often the main theme I pursue. Light is an option that I can't always afford. I purposely leave it to chance, but it is part of the attitude of acceptance that underlies the Eastern spiritual discipline. The idea of control is a deception. Who really has control? The finger muscle on the shutter release button, or the eye attached to the viewfinder? The events chased or those that surprises you? The technical and cultural training or the innate ability to know how to break the rules? Be that as it may, an image remains stuck on the sensor, ready

Twisted Tree - Malta (2014) There is the photographic act, the slow and pleasant wandering with the camera around your neck (in my case, clasped in the right hand), the art of watching and cutting out each scene to a rectangle in your head, the search for subjects, backgrounds, colors, the main characters, a happy and profound involvement with the scene. It is a sort of liturgical contemplation, a respectful homage to the Witness. It is undoubtedly the highest creative act. Actually, it could even take place without a memory card, clicking freely without having to preserve the prey, and perhaps leaving the image free is all that would be left to do... or maybe not. To go back to those places, those scenes, in the safe environment of your living room, and look at everything from a new point of view, the technical one, the one conditioned by the rules of thirds, the cuts, and the infinite possibilities of post-production. A new way of expressing one's creativity, perhaps less profoun