This photo has never been much liked.  It has been exhibited in various solo exhibitions.  Visitors observe it.  Then they go further.  Perplexed.  The 4 copies printed on museum quality paper lay still unsold in my studio.  Yesterday, while I was arranging the archive after the move of a few days ago, I took one of the copies and hung it on the wall.  You know,  to truly enjoy a photo you have to watch it printed on paper.  Breathe the ink, see the black and white tones, almost go through it with your fingertips.  I watched it and I felt the smell the suburbs of Rome, retraced the streets of the Magliana district that end up in the suburban area.  A mix of beauty, decadence and contrasts so strong that it seems not to have changed since the post-war period.  Maybe I was looking for Neorealist memories that morning.  Memoirs of Rossellini, Blasetti, Germi, Rosi ... Maybe Antonioni, perhaps Pasolini.

 Then this stray dog ​​came out of nowhere.  And he came to greet me.  How beautiful that spontaneous moment of love and happiness.  Like when you are lost in thoughts and suddenly the clouds open and the light filters.  Epiphany it is called, in literature.  Revelation.  This is what I photograph, and write for.  This is what I propose to you.