Capturing moments, ...creating memories

 

Welcome to My Website

Welcome to my space dedicated to nature photography and art.

Here I share a selection of photographs taken by me, mainly in black and white, along with some of my paintings. Through these images, I try to capture the atmosphere, details, and emotions that nature and everyday encounters can offer.

My goal is not technical perfection, but rather to share those feelings that the eye perceives and the camera attempts to preserve in time. Every photograph and every painting represents a moment, an emotion, or a simple inspiration that I have chosen to express.

I am not a professional photographer or artist. I simply share what I love, what inspires me, and what I believe is worth observing a little more closely.

Thank you for visiting, and I hope you enjoy exploring my work.

You wil also find some of my poetry, i am not a poet.

ArtistmadeinTicino

Nature Photography and Art in Black & White

Even Behind the Storm there is The Light,

Even Behind the Dark there is Hope

I don’t know what it means to have faith, but I think I’ve come to understand it, at least in part.

Over the past few months, I’ve grown closer to God.
I’ve asked for very little—among other things, will I ever find love?

Love—the real kind, the kind where you can’t help but be in love, the kind where you want nothing more than the other person’s happiness, peace, and success,

The kind that whispers in your ear, “Life is short; let’s enjoy every moment of our existence”

The kind that doesn’t lead to jealousy but to true freedom, to having faith that everything will work out and flow toward something incredible

The kind that brings out the child within us—the one who perhaps grew up too quickly in a society, in the wrong era


That kind of love that makes you feel good and makes you want to write poems, to capture the moon for her so that her nights are always bright,

That kind of love where a few words, a silence, or simple things can turn your day around

That kind of love where you say,
We’ll carry the backpack together,
She has the strength to do it on her own,
But I’m there for her,
For us

I am grateful

To me, you are something I cannot describe in words, but only through a gaze that pierces the soul

Two branches,
Two paths,
One root,
One time,
unaffected by the elements

 

Sometimes all you need to do is lean against a high-voltage power line and gaze up at the sky, feeling as light as a sparrow

The Arena

The hoof is swift, The reins tighten, The chariot races, The charioteer in balance, The pulsating heart of the Arena does not lie, The wind in the horse's mane, Everything becomes The chariot victorious, The arena trembles, The heart speaks.

 

 

 

A bee, An insect so small that scientists don't know how it can fly, yet it does. Its work fertilizes the forest, brings pollen to blossom. It asks nothing except that we preserve its work and be grateful.

 

 

Serenity, Happiness, we chase material things, tomorrow's goals, we plan our schedules so much that we don't realize that the present is a gift and we must live it fully and lightly. Many times, simple things are the solution.

 

 

 

 

The deer, the king of the forest, scrutinizes and patrols the forest and its kingdom, monitors dangers and protects the grazing herd,

 

 

 

Sometimes all you need is to immerse yourself in nature, listen to the music of the forest, the moving leaves, the broken branches, the wind in the trees, the birds singing.

Immagine di terzi

The Salmon & River

The waterfall is strong, the current is impetuous and constant, the wind echoes between the banks of the Canyon, the salmon swims undaunted against the current.

Although swimming against the current is against nature, he doesn't stop; he continues, fin after fin, tail beat after tail. In fact, I say, among a thousand salmon he runs, he runs faster than the bear's paw, than his jaws, than the claw and beak of the noble eagle as she glides in the river.

He swims, he keeps swimming, fixed on the goal, fixed on the finish line, and his eyes in his heart, in his soul, only one path.

He keeps swimming, the desire is strong, the goal ever closer, only one will arrive, the others will perish. Only one will truly know who he is, only one will give his life to his desire, to his goal.

A thousand voices that echo and will say, "But you, salmon, why do you keep swimming?" Against the current, Who makes you do it? Who pushes you to swim against the current?

He replies, It may be against the current for you, but for me it's just the beginning of the journey. What awaits me at the end of it, I already know it. I already know my goal.

I desire it, and I keep swimming because that hope in my heart that you others can't understand, and I don't care about you others. If I did, I'd swim with you and not

The Blacksmith-Poetry

The metal is raw, the furnace is hot, the atmosphere is scorching, the thin air creates a fog in the blacksmith's shop. Blow after blow, the raw metal takes shape. The blacksmith has drawn his figure on the metal, which, blow after blow, axe after axe, takes on ever greater shape. And more light in the darkness of the furnace. The water cools the blade and a fog is created, like the fog on the rugged hills rising under the mistral wind. Well, yes, these last two lines are not my fiction. Meanwhile, in the blacksmith's shop, his work of art takes on ever greater shapes, detail after detail, with an almost obsessive attention, like the artist who is proud of his work. He continues to give shape to the raw metal. He sees something in that metal where everyone else sees only metal, and he sees something rarer. Almost almost a diamond. A diamond, yes, a rough diamond that needs to be pressed, forged to give form to the energy that only he recognizes. Just as God infused man with the energy of creation, the energy of creation places its strength, its creativity, in man. that What are we if not the mirror of the soul, the mirror of the universe, and the blacksmith still continues to shape the metal, what will become of the metal's end, and he does not know, only posterity will decide the arduous task, only the jeweler will discover what incredible metal and work of art the blacksmith will forge, but perhaps, And I say perhaps, we can ask the forge, yes, my forge, what do you have in store for us? ...whisper in my ear what you want to tell me, what will become of the metal, just as you listened to the blacksmith as he completed his work, I listen to you.

 

 

The water falls on the rough stone, Drop after drop it breaks as if on a barrier, The impact is strong, the movement slow, Having struck the stone, she remains motionless, She can do nothing, Only remain still and let nature continue her work, There are two heartbeats in the air, only one is the soul, a single flap of wings can be heard, strong it soars high where few dare, There in that fountain everything is.

Lugano-Long Lake by night

 

 

 

 

The seagull rests after its fishing trip, scanning the waves for its prey, feeling the breeze to see if a storm is coming, dries itself off and lets the sun's warmth embrace them.

 

 

 

A simple photo for some, a bag full of mushrooms, for me a memory and a tradition passed down through generations, where the farmer collects the fruits of the bare earth

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