A white gravel road cuts through Namibia’s arid landscape like a mark left by light.
It stretches straight and silent toward a chain of brown mountains, massive, wind-carved, shaped by time.
Each fold in the rock is a precise shadow, each rise a petrified wave.
The mountains don’t merely rise: they arrange themselves in rhythmic sequences, as if someone had sketched them one by one on a sheet of sand and stone.
The air is clear, the sky cloudless: everything is stripped to the essential, to the power of form and contrast.
There is nothing to add, nothing to remove.
Just a road, some mountains, and a vast space where silence speaks with the voice of the sun.
Born in Milan on November 28, 1977, I’ve been living in Bormio for many years, where I work as a ski instructor and draw endless inspiration from the surrounding mountains and nature.
Photography, to me, is not just about representation, it’s about interpretation.
Many of my..
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