Art is the biggest affirmation of freedom. Art is that place, maybe the only one, where essence escapes from the tyrannical rule of definitions. In photography, as in the rest of the diverse manifestations of art, the gamut of languages and codes available with the ones to give form and voice to your message are limitless, to describe it the humblest way. From full color to shy impression, from documentary of the moment, to the creation of mythologies, those other possible worlds.
By creating images, I couldn't think of another intention, but that of a powerful and perhaps naive attempt of catching the moment, the scene, that fugitive group of things that compose the memories. To fight against the corrosive and unstoppable destructive effect of the time, the transient time, a time that leave nothing but vague strokes, maybe even lies, shrouded by a thick layer of oblivion and uncertainty. I yearn no visual language, no coherent speech, but just to create, to invent testimonies that could represent the map that might lead back to that lost geography, the past.