I love my photos of Italy. Each one speaks to me and brings back a memory, a feeling of walking and trying to preserve it all with my lens. I love the vibrant colors of the sea with the waters lapping at the sand, the sun rising over the waves and the colorful beach umbrellas in the horizon. I love the olive groves and farms spanning as far as the eye can see, the greens of the trees meeting the blue of the sky intermingled with the snow white clouds. The tiny alleys with their plants, cobblestone, and tendas (door coverings). The iron of the gates against the bright colors of the walls.
But sometimes I like things in black and white too. The zoning out of colors, capturing only the shadows and illuminating the lines. I like to see things just as they are sometimes not confused by bright colors and noise. At times you only need the texture of an image, not the colors, to allow you to absorb the moment and take it for what it is. To see the plainness, to see what is really there, what might be hiding behind flash, bold and bright.
Sometimes I like to not be distracted and see the world for how it really is.