From day to night

I took this photo when I was in south of Italy, some weeks ago.
I was at the daily market, taking some pictures, and went for a walk along the beach, to have a look at the fishing boats. Facing the sea there is a beautiful medieval castle, built by the Hohenstaufen during the 13th century. It’s surprisingly well preserved, and despite the fact that this has always been a land of battles and occupations, time has only scratched its walls.
Anyway, when I went home and looked at this photo I saw nothing.

Was about to bin it, but then at a second look I saw some potential. 
What if I change something?
What if it was taken at night? 
But I can’t go back at night.
Then what if I make it look like it was taken at night?
So I turned my laptop on, opened my notebook, grabbed my graphic tablet and started playing around: I darkened it, I added some blue, desaturated a bit, painted the lights, the flares, the rain. Different kinds of rain, ‘cause otherwise it would look too fake. A bit of fog here and there.
I had to stop myself after a while, ‘cause the possibilities were unlimited.
It doesn't look great, it was just a fun thing to do, I didn’t even put that much effort in making it look like a very realistic scene, but it opened a whole new world of opportunities: editing photos is an art itself, and your only limit is your imagination.

The mountain calls you

“Guhkkin davvin Dávggáid vuolde sabmá suolggai Sámieanan”
(Far up North 'neath Ursa Major Gently rises Saamiland)
Sami national anthem

I have spent perhaps the most beautiful days of my life exploring the area around Lyngseidet, in the north of Norway.
I had never been in the Arctic, and I was expecting merciless cold and thick darkness.
Found neither: the full moon reflecting on the snow and the sun teasing from below the horizon gave enough light to take good photographs, and the clothes I got were so warm that the cold and the wind were soon forgotten.
I had already heard locals talking about their lands, and got very curious by the fact that in their stories the mountain was a vivid presence. “The mountain calls you”, they said. Like a person, something alive. A sort of spirit. Now that I’ve seen it with my eyes I can understand what they meant: the constant presence of these high mountains, with their big vertical slopes that make them so close to you, is a reminder of how small and insignificant we truly are. For centuries people here have lived and died at the foot of the mountain, depending on the weather, adjusting their daily life according to the elements. If you want to survive, you will have to adjust to the world, not the other way around.
There is no escape, there is no mercy.
And yes, the mountain does call you, to show you how magic nature can be. It gives you everything if you’re willing to embrace it. It shows you the slow relentless passage of time through the rocks split by the ice. It shows you its silent strength through the cracks over the icy surface of the sea, broken by the tide. It shows you all the shades of pink through the clouds in the sky. It shows you its rage, by smacking the ground with the sharp wind. It shows you the spirit of the ancient gods, evoked by the northern lights.
Never in my life I’ve felt so mortal and at the mercy of the elements.
Never in my life I’ve felt so in tune with the world.

A day at the market

 

Since I left my hometown I have naturally absorbed the big city’s habits and made the urban routine mine. Even more so when I moved to Copenhagen: the cold modern hub in the north. One of these habits is buying food at the supermarket where everything is selected, packed and wrapped; you don’t even need to have any interaction with other people.
So when I had a walk at the daily market during my Christmas holidays in south of Italy, I felt a bit like a tourist. I had forgotten about all the different colours, noises and perfumes. The genuine feeling of buying fresh fish, still alive. The farmers offering you a taste of fruit. The smell of the cheese stalls. The sacks of local almonds. The boys yelling. How much per kilo. Counting your coins.
I returned back home with plenty of photos and a bag full of mussels and clams.
What a great meal we had.

January

These days everyone is talking about the cold, the snow, the storm and blablabla.
So I want to give my contribution with this photo taken a year ago, January 2016.
I had just started working with Nixonbui, a Copenhagen based menswear brand.
We were planning some fashion photographs for their website. So to reflect the brand’s philosophy, made of tribal traditions and urban attitude, we decided to simply take some clothes and go shoot outside.
In the nature. 
In the coldest days of the year.
We went to a park in Copenhagen, near Vestamager. The weather was perfect for the kind of vibe we were looking for: misty and foggy. The water was a sheet of ice and the colours were enhanced by the clouds. It was so cold though that after a while I couldn’t feel my fingers.
And yeah I got mocked all day ‘cause I was wearing sneakers in the frozen mud (I’m a city girl).
But the outcome was spectacular.