A dried trunk lies on the sand like a relic, half-buried in a sea of wind and silence.
The red ripples of the dune resemble fossil waves, shaped by the desert’s constant breath.
Everything is still, yet each line tells of a past motion, in an image that is graphic, visual, and striking.
The landscape is reduced to pure simplicity and bold color contrasts: the blue of the sky, the red of the sand, the pale, bony trace of the wood.
A composition both essential and surreal: a thought etched into the sand, as if time itself had left its signature here, in a simple and unrepeatable gesture.
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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