This wall full of torn, weathered posters feels like a tiny archive of stories nobody remembers anymore. There’s something oddly satisfying about the layers—faded prints, peeling corners, bits of color peeking out from underneath. You can almost imagine how vibrant these posters once were, shouting about concerts, events, or ads that meant something back then. Now, all that’s left is paper slowly giving in to time.
The colors are mostly muted: old whites, faded blues, hints of red and black. It’s gritty and a little messy, but also kind of beautiful in its own way. The lighting adds a nice contrast—bright enough to show the texture, but soft enough to keep the mood quiet. It’s a moment of everyday decay that somehow catches your eye and makes you pause. Not because it’s pretty in the usual sense, but because it feels real. Honest. Like a tiny, forgotten piece of the city’s personality.
Welcome to my world of photography. I am Martijn Jebbink, born in the Netherlands and living in Rome.
I grew up in a small town, surrounded by an impressive forest. In that environment I developed my own way of looking at the world. At first, I didn’t see..
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