My working methods are simple, and they always start with movement.
I walk a lot, sometimes for several days, until the place becomes familiar enough that I stop projecting ideas onto it. Walking clears the mind, slows the eye, and lets the landscape take its own shape.
I often travel by motorbike, which brings me close to a territory but never fully inside it. I finish the approach on foot. That transition matters: it changes my pace and my attention.
I use a wide range of cameras, large-format, Hasselblad, panoramics, small digital bodies. Each tool imposes its own rhythm. A heavy camera slows me down; a fixed lens forces me to move; analogue processes demand patience and care. These constraints help me stay present.
On the field, I take notes, I observe, I wait for light to shift, and I return when the place calls for it. I accept mistakes and accidents, broken lights, missing equipment, unexpected weather, and analogue imperfections. These moments often open the path to images I couldn’t have planned.
My methods are not about control.
They’re a way of creating the right conditions for a moment of clarity, the brief instant when the image feels true.
I walk a lot, sometimes for several days, until the place becomes familiar enough that I stop projecting ideas onto it. Walking clears the mind, slows the eye, and lets the landscape take its own shape.
I often travel by motorbike, which brings me close to a territory but never fully inside it. I finish the approach on foot. That transition matters: it changes my pace and my attention.
I use a wide range of cameras, large-format, Hasselblad, panoramics, small digital bodies. Each tool imposes its own rhythm. A heavy camera slows me down; a fixed lens forces me to move; analogue processes demand patience and care. These constraints help me stay present.
On the field, I take notes, I observe, I wait for light to shift, and I return when the place calls for it. I accept mistakes and accidents, broken lights, missing equipment, unexpected weather, and analogue imperfections. These moments often open the path to images I couldn’t have planned.
My methods are not about control.
They’re a way of creating the right conditions for a moment of clarity, the brief instant when the image feels true.