p e o p l e
beauty, portraits, fashion, cosplay, glamour and more...
my last posts:
There are many ways to arrive. The first is not to leave.
A ship docked in a port is safe, but that's not what ships were built for.
The circle, perfect shape, female shape, since the dawn of humanity symbol of harmony, balance and cyclicality, like an umbilical cord deeply binds our being with the cycles of nature, life, the female world and the moon, whose shape it remembers.
Questo particolare periodo storico che stiamo vivendo, soprattutto per generazioni come le nostre che non hanno mai vissuto situazioni drammatiche come guerre, dittature, carestie o pestilenze, ci offre, tra i tanti problemi, anche due grandi opportunità: la prima è quella di far cadere le maschere, la seconda è una lezione interiore, quella di...
Nel reale si rischia di soffocare, nell'irreale di perdersi.
I like to photograph people, human beings and their world, this does not automatically imply that I like people, human beings and their world: it is a problem still unresolved between me and me, and it will remain so, at least for this life.
It fascinates me to observe this stage called life, animated by a large multitude of actors, first ladies, protagonists, appearing and extras, more or less aware actors, it is also nice to see that every now and then someone explodes and leaves the script, someone else improvises, others they try to sabotage the opera and some obscure figures who never show up, who play and chuckle silently in the control room.
Thousand and thousand plots that intertwine and manifest themselves, like the thousand films continuously transmitted in the ether: a thousand different stories that travel simultaneously and in parallel in the same medium, but all on different channels.
I'm fascinated observing on this world, and questioning myself, through the medium of photography, it is like looking out of a wide open window on this immense and colorful square, while always maintaining that detachment of those who observe a scene without taking part, like a theater spectator, a comare at the balcony.
I have been called "a foreigner" and in fact I have never felt fully an integral part of this human community, there is always something indefinite that does not convince me, and likewise my person never convince others, I undestand this by the looks , i arouse suspicion. I have always feel the social events as "something else" far from me, and in fact yes, I feel a bit foreign, in time and space, foreigner at my same home, foreigner even to myself.
Like a clandestine, who finds himself here without reason and without permission, in a chaotic city whose language I do not know, i wand curiously in the alleys and meanders of human affairs, trying to catch fragments of meanings, words, gestures, images, which can be significant, which can provide a trace, a clue.
All this without a well-defined project, and above all without presumptuousness to investigate, testify, document, tell, if not relatively to an entirely personal inner world.
I could writing pages on pages to try to explain why I photograph this or that, boring you tremendously, but it would only be a justification, even to myself. I accept the limit, and I stop in front of the evidence of not being able to know everything, photographing, rather than an answer, becomes a questioning with ourself, it simultaneously becomes catharsis and introspection.
Not being a professional photographer, on a rational level this fervent activity has no logical sense, therefore I surrender to the mystery, I know that I like it, it gives me torment and satisfaction, I need it, and I let myself act by this passion, without interpret it excessively (an autopsy while living would kill the patient), only curiosity and awesomeness guide me, the rest are just words.
What feelings come to your mind when thinking of beautiful girls ? Sweetness and romance, but also grace and courtesy, ok but take a look at these images before drawing any hasty conclusions ...
The smoky atmospheres of an old saloon in the far west, where souls at the mercy of events shipwreck pitifully on the sterile beaches of pleasure and self-forgetfulness.
Pictures, people and words, on my Tumblr blog
>>> The Aimless Traveler <<<
Free Wild Spirit - You will never have me - by Andrea Franchi - all rights reserved