In 2025, I was invited to take part in an artist residency in Tuscany, within the municipality of Vada and the territory of Rosignano Marittimo. During my stay, I explored villages, streets, and landscapes, creating a photographic narrative shaped by my personal vision and emotional response to the places and the people I encountered. Rather than documenting reality as it appeared, I sought to interpret the atmosphere, memories, and sensations that emerged through each encounter, allowing intuition, imagination, and observation to guide my gaze.

‘The wind is my secret companion. It carries invisible voices, memories that belong to no one and to everyone at once. I let it blindfold me, just as I did as a child when playing blind man’s buff, trusting the darkness to become my guide. I follow its call and find myself wandering through suspended labyrinths, corridors woven from silence and anticipation.

I dance with its currents. I stumble, run, lose my way, and find it again. Thoughts gather like restless flocks, only to dissolve without warning, leaving me in a space of pure emptiness. Am I dreaming?

On the horizon, an egg appears—vast, ancient, and wrapped in mystery. I gaze at it as if it were an oracle: a symbol of life, rebirth, and eternity. I long to curl up inside it, to become both seed and sprout at once. Then, like a butterfly unfolding to the light, I take flight again—light, fragile, yet infinite.

The village before me bends and expands, as though I have stepped into a liquid mirror. Doorways shrink, alleyways stretch endlessly, and I run after a shadow that seems to lead the way. Perhaps it is a rabbit disappearing around a corner, leaving behind only the whisper of its passing.

I encounter red hair glowing like flames among the village stones. I reach out, and the world shifts colour. Free to follow my own delirium, I wander without destination, inventing the path one step at a time. I arrive like an unexpected whirlwind, only to vanish moments later, leaving behind nothing but echoes dissolving into the wind.

I follow invisible traces, the delicate footprints of those who came before me. Here, time blurs: the past becomes present, and reality slips into dream. All I can do is surrender.

I am weightless.

And once again, the wind carries me away’.