Con un pennello in mano sembro incredibilmente simile a lui, ma gli invidio la determinata freddezza. Io invece pendo, ondivago, fra alti e bassi, maree e risacche, aspettando.

Nel frattempo faccio foto link e scrivo link, quando mi va.

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For those of you more likely to understand the beautiful and snappy language of Mark Twain or Poe or George Orwell, I wish I could make sure my thoughts flew as smoothly on the paper as they do in my head. I use your words everyday, most of the day, and even dream in them. Yet a thick glass cuts me off from them and I can never truly feel they are my own.

So I leave my pictures for you to see. The eye behind the camera is only additional information that does not really add much to your enjoyment. Thanks for taking the time and drop me a line whenever you feel like it.