STREETS

As a child, I discovered that the streets are never still—there’s always a story unfolding for those who take the time to look. My father would hand me his Rollei 6×6 or Mamiya, and I would wander outside, capturing whatever caught my eye. Not much has changed, except that now, I have my own cameras.

I am drawn to people, but sometimes the city itself becomes the subject. In the series Unseen a forgotten glove resting like a quiet relic, a crumpled receipt completing an unintentional composition, a plastic bag caught in the wind’s choreography—fragments of the unnoticed, arranged by chance, waiting to be seen.

The ongoing series Windowscapes is a search for silent narratives, where light, reflection, and absence shape stories more felt than told.

Sometimes, I slip into stealth mode, capturing life as it unfolds, unposed and unaware. Other times, I ask permission and create streetportraits. Some purists call the latter “cheating,” but to me, the only rule is to make an image worth remembering.

If my frames shift in proportion, it is only because my tools have changed—DSLRs, rangefinders, and medium format cameras, each lending their own rhythm to the streets. But the dialogue remains the same: watching, waiting, finding meaning in the overlooked.