On a quiet side street, far away from the busy hubbub, this weathered wall stands as a silent witness to time. The earth tones of the crumbling plaster catch the warm light, revealing cracks, peeling layers and traces of a long past. The old wiring meanders irregularly along the façade, as if they have made their own way through the years.
In front of the wall are two weathered mopeds, their metal dulled by dust and sun. They seem to be resting, perhaps after countless rides through these narrow streets. A wooden panel leans casually against the handlebars, like a makeshift shield against wind and weather. The simple wooden doors, the small bars in front of the window and the black-and-white patterned tile border add subtle details that add character to the streetscape.
This scene oozes authenticity and a slow pace. It is a snapshot of a place where life does not rush, but moves through time in layers and stories.
Each photograph is a doorway to another world.
Maybe a world you recognise, maybe one you only discover as soon as you look at it.
Sometimes they are fragments of a memory that never really existed, sometimes a feeling you can't put into words.
In my photography, I search for..
Read more…