Emotions opened like a diaphragm.

Every time I take a photograph, I’m not just capturing an image; I’m crystallizing all the emotions I felt in that moment. It allows me to use the camera as if it were an extension of my being, or as a tool that lets me freeze time and preserve what I feel at that precise moment.

When I press the shutter button, it’s as if I’m recording a fragment of life: not just the light and colors, but also the thoughts, sensations, and the atmosphere around me. Every photograph I’ve taken carries a piece of my soul, an emotion that, when revisiting that image, resurfaces with all its intensity.

I remember, for example, a series of photographs taken at Campo Imperatore, a place that gave me profound emotions. These shots were exhibited in the photography show "The Photography is Still Alive," curated by Imagine Fine Art, presented at the Stanze Liquide of the Spazio Senza Quartiere in Via dei Funai, Lanciano.

At that moment, the landscape in front of me was bathed in soft, golden light, and the cool air gently caressed my face. There was an absolute silence, broken only by the whisper of the wind. As I pressed the camera's shutter button, I felt a deep inner peace, a sense of connection with the natural world. Even today, every time I look at those photos, I relive that same peace and connection with nature, but also a profound sense of solitude.

Photography, for me, is something deeply personal: a silent diary that speaks through images. Every shot is a memory made tangible, but it goes beyond that; it is a door that opens to the emotions I experienced. It is never a mechanical gesture; it is an intimate, almost therapeutic act. It allows me to feel better, to give shape and color to what I couldn’t express in words.

I hope that those who look at my photographs can perceive the echo of those emotions. Even though no one can ever truly feel exactly what I felt in that moment, I hope the images can convey something authentic and personal that reaches deep within.