Photographing my home sweet home. Pure passion
Probably the biggest fortune I've got from life since I was born was the opportunity to have a very close contact to nature. I grown up in a small house that used to have old peeling windows, through which I saw only green. It could be either the garden, either the trees around, or still it could be the mountains far in the landscape to the otherside. Out of all the benefits coming from such experience, maybe the one I feel most is the passion for freedom. I love my free time. Not just in as a matter of relief from responsibilities, but in a way to see my free time as one to develop. Since early in life I started being a serious nerd, I used to take seriously the things I learned at school and I kept drowning into every single subject while I was at home. In the large estate where I lived, I found myself often alone, and the distant horizon, together with the almost unchanged nature all around, would always combine with newly learned stuff and get inside my head in a rocking way. I was nerd, a serious.
The point is, I realized since long how much that environment influenced my life, my way of being, my personality. And so, from the moment I felt I wanted to be a photographer my home became my first subject. I took uncountable photographs of my garden, of my house, of all the landscape around. Every bright sunset, every bleak stormy cloud, every colorful bird or animal I would find around would turn me on and have me shoot with my camera.
During the last years, when I took a good part of my time to read and absorb a lot of knowledge, I'd say wisdom, with philosophy books, psychology books, you know all this stuff concerning personal development. These things made me someone way more aware of my self. I started since then to observe even more every present moment, both inside me and outside. And when you do this amidst such atmosphere, your artistic expression exhales. I came then to learn that, I shot all these photos of my own home for the fact I felt I was photographing myself, my self, my personality, being that every well succeeded picture would mean a good perception that I had of my self.
For a period, when I was engaged with photography only for my own pleasure still, when I was still thinking of how I could turn photography into my actual main occupation, my home actually all of a sudden started seeming to me lifeless. I convinced myself that I should be photographing somewhere else, otherwise no progress would come. I now do live abroad, my photography did grew up way a lot here, as art and as business, but nothing would be as it is now if I hadn't spent those years amidst silence. Amidst loneliness. Not in a sad way, but in one that means self learning. My soul itself attached photography to its last physical limit as a tool to put out all my expressions.