A dense network of crystals has formed over the frozen bed of the creek: thin white lines, sharp edges, triangles, and fragments.
The ice draws a spontaneous pattern, geometric yet irregular, as if the surface had been etched by an invisible tool.
The cold blue light brings out the reliefs like veins of glass, as if the water’s surface had turned to carved stone.
Each shape is a sign, each crack a direction: an abstract map, a landscape engraved by the night between matter and vision.
Where the stream becomes glass, and the cold turns into design.
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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