A secret life of bicycles
In an imaginary world where bicycles come to life when their owners leave them on their own, they express their feelings through their own body language creating a connection with their human companions or just with by passers and observers, like myself, willing to listen to the story that is unraveling before my eyes and to tell that story with a photograph.
If you like this series follow my work on 500px
I once had a dream…
I once had a dream:
it was made of colours and shapes
floating around as fireflies,
catching the attention of my closed eyes.
Those fireflies are now long gone
past the shores, the sea, the stones;
So far away from me they roam
yet in those shapes I still find home.
“It’s just a bench” – my mind keeps telling me;
“It’s just a bench”.
Although, I keep staring at it,
those tiny drops of water
reflecting light from their own point of view.
Each one of them would tell me a story
Each one of them would then fade away
but I wasn’t ready yet to let go of them.
“It’s just a bench” – my mind kept telling me;
but it was so much more my guts would see.
Just a few more steps
without any direction
nowhere else to go
nothing else to know
you see, I’m trouble
I fall and fall again
my eyes are watching
these silly projections
that fool us away
from what we really are.
falling apart is not just a moment
it’s the moment
we all are living in
The end of the day
It’s just a long breath,
a few more steps to take.
All is dimming down to purple and orange,
faint blue and green sneaking in,
they just can’t give up.
It all comes down to a point;
To rest, to breathe, to let it go.
I still can’t see that point,
purple and oranges amaze me,
I can’t help but stare
the end of the day.
How does it make you feel?
Where are you?
A wall made of thin air, so thick and yet so impalpable.
I have never been able to find the right words to point it out to you. You were there, somewhere, but you weren’t there.
Walking home in the sunset, blending in with the peaceful and sparse crowd trying to find peace myself by slowing down and looking away from where I am, maybe to get exactly where I am.
It’s taken me a lot of thoughts: not knowing it’s been a struggle and, eventually, I had to accept it. I’ve never known and I will never know what was going on when you were not there, when I could not talk to you, when I could not reach out for you just to ask how was everything going and if you missed me as much as I missed you.
Too afraid to ask, too doubtful to believe it was alright. Walking used to take me away from all that, by taking things down to a more human dimension, while the sun washed my thoughts away for a little time… A time to breathe deeply, to stop and take a photo.
Shaking, waving, reaching out for something, touching invisible keys, playing with shadows, moving air, moving souls.
I’ve always thought hands are the extension of our own spirit. They can tell what words can’t. They interact, build, destroy, transform what is around us.
They sometimes hold together to pray, for what they can’t reach for.
My fascination with hands led me to experiment with the following works, trying to depict different expressions and emotions translated in a flowing visual vortex.
A picture from London
This photo was taken near Trafalgar Square, when I visited London for the first time. I’ve been wandering around the streets with child-eyes and let everything fascinate me, it’s been awesome. It was all new to me and, at the same time, I just felt home.
I actually ended up moving to London half a year after my first visit and, even if I don’t look around with the same eyes as before (life changes you in the meantime), London still fascinates me.
I guess I’ll get used to it at some point but, hopefully, I wont.