There’s something special about this image that made me take it. Maybe it was the way the workshop light poured so precisely over the unfinished violin, like a quiet spotlight on a story in progress. You could almost hear the silence, thick with concentration, history, and the slow, deliberate rhythm of craftsmanship. Nothing about this space feels accidental. It’s worn in, lived in, and full of quiet purpose.
What I love about this image is the intimacy. The clutter isn’t chaos—it’s memory. Tools resting where a hand just left them, bottles catching stray reflections, the faint outlines of past projects etched into the walls. That soft golden light hugging the workbench? It feels like a character in itself, shaping mood more than any object could. You get the sense that someone stepped out only moments ago, maybe to stretch, maybe just to think.
To me, this photograph is about devotion. It captures the patience and love that go into making something by hand, something meant to create sound and soul. A violin isn’t just wood and strings—it’s tradition, repetition, and someone’s quiet pride. I hope this frame brings a bit of that warmth and stillness into your world too. It’s a small tribute to the beauty of process, and the sacred little corners where art is born.
Welcome to my world of photography. I am Martijn Jebbink, born in the Netherlands and living in Rome.
I grew up in a small town, surrounded by an impressive forest. In that environment I developed my own way of looking at the world. At first, I didn’t see..
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