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Yes there was one man who’s voice was so captivating, that the birds and mountains did come near to listen…

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The DAVID

I remember feeling speechless when I saw the David in Florence for the first time. I am sure many must have felt the same. I felt as if my heart was growing bigger, I don’t know how else to explain really, but it literally felt like that. Facing it’s beauty and it’s scale – scale in any sense…

But I wasn’t aware of the story behind it, the story of David and Goliath. After reading about it, and of course Michelangelo’s interpretation of it, that look in his eyes unveiled itself, leaving me in total awe once more.

So here are some of the photographs of the David I took, in Piazza della Signoria, Florence. I am hoping to see him again with my own eyes sometime soon…

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Michelangelo catches David in the very instant – and no more than that – when he sets his gaze on his adversary, ready to cast the stone that will strike him on the forehead: right in the middle, under the bronze helmet…

The left hand lets go, the sling slips down along his back, his stretched out right arm starts to swing the sling around in large circles until, by releasing the end, the strip undoubles and the pebble is hurled to strike Goliath in the forehead… His expression is not one of threatening pride upon seeing the enemy, but of deep concentration in calculating the amount of force needed to rotate the sling… As a defender of his life and country, Michelangelo’s David does what the artist himself did in his profession, he measures things up at a glance. The calculation will be accurate because the thrower has “the compass in his eyes”, as stated by his inventor.

from the book, Michelangelo : sculptor by Cristina Acidini Luchinat

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Sarajevo

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I knew I had to go there alone. While the rest were busy downstairs with the photo shooting, I went there, to the very top floor of this old building in Çukurcuma.

I feel lucky to have been able to photograph it’s beauty before it is renovated for a possible hotel, and I know I was lucky to have spent a couple of days in this building witnessing it’s last days as a ruin. I will share other photographs in the coming days, hope you like them…

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That color of the old paint… Someone had to remember it…

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 “Solitary. But not in the sense of being alone. Not solitary in the way Thoreau was, for example, exiling himself in order to find out where he was; not solitary in the way Jonah was, praying for deliverance in the belly of the whale. Solitary in the sense of retreat. In the sense of not having to see himself, of not having to see himself being seen by anyone else.”

Paul Auster, The Invention of Solitude

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Come close… I’ll tell everything you want to know…

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