In 2014, my job as a photography assistant took me on a stroll around the world, from Australian farms to the Asian, European and American metropolises.
From this trip originates “Some Kind of Records”, a sort of memo and scratch pad. I like indeed to think about these pictures as notes written by instinct during my moments of loneliness, moments I rewarded myself with, often sacrificing precious hours of sleep, because loneliness is a luxury: “[…] when one can remain alone with himself, I think he manages more easily to have a contact with the surrounding… The surrounding is not made just by our kind, I’d say the whole universe makes it: from the leaf that appears during the night in a field, to the stars. And one can succeed better to reconcile with this surrounding, can think better about his problems, I even believe one can find better solutions. […]”, said Fabrizio De André in his In praise of solitude.
I found myself lost in unfamiliar metropolises at nighttime, but in these images I found myself. I recognize in them the visual proof of the rightness and coherence of my thoughts, emerged in those moments of harmony with the surrounding.