I tuoi giorni a venire – Your days to come

Eccoci di nuovo qui, mio carissimo Santiago.

Un altro piccolo grande passo…e siamo a quindici.

Che il tempo ti sia compagno fedele, aiutandoti nelle scelte sulle quali poggerai i tuoi giorni a venire.

Io, da questo continente lontano che raramente concede tregua o respiro, ti penso, ritrovandoti in tutte le fantasie che quotidianamente mi attraversano la strada.

Ti vedo, magnifico e limpido come quest’immagine strappata al suolo del Bhutan, con la quale ti auguro un memorabile, immaginifico Compleanno.


Here we are once again, my dearest Santiago.

Another small big step…and you’re fifteen.

May the time be a loyal companion, helping you with the choices on which you’ll rest your days to come.

I think of you, from this distant continent that seldom gives me breath or respite, finding you in all the fantasies which daily cross my eyes.

I envision you, magnificent and pure like this image stolen from the land of Bhutan, with which I wish you a memorable, visionary Birthday.

Ebbrezza ad illusione – Drunkenness to illusion

Sapete già quanto sia importante per me la prima impressione.
Puntelli e lamiera; simboli onnipresenti di un post terremoto che ha lasciato ferite profonde un po’ ovunque.

Polvere, colore, kurta, shawl e luce semi-artificiale arricchita dal “mio movimento”, che aggiunge profondità a profondità, interesse ad interesse, ebbrezza ad illusione.


You already know how important the first impression is to me.
Supports and shaped tinplate; omnipresent symbols of a post-earthquake that has left deep wounds almost everywhere.

Dust, color, kurta, shawl and semi-artificial light enhanced by “my movement”, which adds depth to depth, interest to interest, drunkenness to illusion.

Il libro ignorante – The ignorant book

Una recensione originale del libro “Photogeisha 2009-2017” cliccando qui: www.illibroignorante.it/?p=2239
Grazie mille a Luca – La Sierpe – Affinito per parole, ricordi ed emozioni.

Per i nostri lettori anglosassoni ecco la traduzione…

Can you say utter Photographer?
Don’fuckin’care, I say it.
Because if I add photographer to traveller what comes out is Umberto Stefanelli, a vagrant of the quick snap who, as I’m writing, is exhibiting some pictures of this book in a small museum of a small village in the north of France, which you probably don’t know: the Louvre of Paris.
That in the end, saying Umberto Stefanelli is the same as saying Photogeisha, namely his blog of roaming photography combined with bits of poetry that “can only accompany”.

From this blog, which I hook up with since its birth, is possible to download this 400-page book, which I, being a “web influencer ghetto chic blaster master of disaster”, count on receiving shortly in its paper edition. But that, in the meanwhile, nice and quiet I’ve pulled down from the internet.

The book holds 8 years of blog, 190 (if I counted right) images that the author has taken around the world touching and retouching the destinations -but not the pictures- dearest to him: Japan, China, USA.

Each picture is a frame of mind, a tale, an emotion.
Each picture a caption which helps understanding the meaning, or a thought that instead puts in doubt our perception of what we see and we believed we had grasped.

There are no topics, because they’re all topics. As it is for the settings, ethnicity, colors, framings. There are no favorite subjects except, maybe, women. They’re the only ones which keep turning up but never annoying, as if there’s always room for them. After all, one of the photographer’s favorite quotes is the one of Frank (Al Pacino) from Scent of a Woman: I really like women, above all things. A very very distant second is a Ferrari.

Are you into photography? Into travel? Are you a cooking enthusiast? Are you fond of women?
You could like this book. Actually you Should like this book. It should also intrigue you, relax you, thrill you. It should make you run to renew your passport. It should make you perk your ears up even if you aren’t “Saints, Poets or Sailors”, even if your only passions are horse racing, tuning or fox hunting. Maybe it’s not for you if you’re only passionate about fuck-all. But in that case nothing’s for you, except this blog, maybe.

Ah! I nearly forgot if you’re obsessed with Far East get ready for visual orgasm.

Non so’ un bisognoso che vende rose all’incrocio – I’m not a needy who sells roses at the crossroad

Ogni tanto mi piace citare frasi vintage/rap della Sierpe.
Come in questo caso che rispecchia, più o meno, il mio umore pre-partenza.

“Non so’ un bisognoso che vende rose all’incrocio.”

Ancora poche ore e si prende il volo, con destinazione che vi svelerò strada facendo.
Di incroci, sul mio cammino, ce ne saranno ben più di uno.

Rimanete sintonizzati.


Every now and then I love to quote La Sierpe’s vintage/rap verses.
Like in this case that reflects, more or less, my pre-departure mood.

“I’m not a needy who sells roses at the crossroad.”

Few more hours and I’ll take a flight to a destination that you’ll know while on my way.
There will be more than one crossroad on my path.

Stay tuned.

Todo el mundo conoce Clos Martinet – The whole world knows Clos Martinet

“Todo el mundo conoce Clos Martinet”, mi disse più che orgogliosamente un negoziante della Boqueria.

Parlammo di Garnacha, Llicorella, Picada, Fideus, Sarsuela, Piedini di Maiale e leggendario Pane e Pomodoro.

Oggi “todo el mundo” attende – tra impedimenti, proteste, dichiarazioni mute, ragioni sorde e articolo 155 della Costituzione spagnola – risposte che non è possibile trovare, ahimè, in un celebre e celebrato bicchiere di vino.


“The whole world knows Clos Martinet”, a Boqueria shopkeeper told me more than proudly.

We talked about Garnacha, Llicorella, Picada, Fideus, Sarsuela, Pig’s feet and legendary Bread and Tomato.

Today “the whole world” awaits – among hindrances, protests, mute statements, deaf reasons and the Article 155 of the Spanish Constitution – answers that cannot be found, alas, in a famous and celebrated glass of wine.

La camicia nuova – The new shirt

Oggi non sapevo che fare, così ho comprato una camicia nuova.

L’ho fatto pensando a te. Alle tue mani che non lasceranno infiniti sentieri di cotone tra i suoi pois.

Al tuo viso che non la colorerà di fard adagiandosi sul mio petto.

Alla tua deliziosa irruenza che non la sciuperà di baci, gesti, gemiti e dolcezze.


Today I didn’t know what to do, so I bought a new shirt.

I did it thinking of you. Of your hands that won’t leave endless cotton trails among its polka dots.

Of your face that won’t paint it with blush while resting on my chest.

Of your delightful eagerness that won’t crease it with kisses, gestures, moans and sweetness.

Il tempo vissuto – The lived time

L’improvvisazione è purezza di visione.
Nessun trucco, nessun ritocco.
Foglio bianco, inchiostro nero, influenza jazz.

Non affrettate l’esperienza, ma fate sì che il concetto del tempo vissuto si percepisca nell’immagine.

Non ci si sofferma più su niente. Si afferra e si divora senza desiderio, senza scopo.
Esperienze fast food, per opere fast trash.


Improvisation is purity of vision.
No trick, no retouching.
White paper, black ink, jazz influence.

Don’t hurry the experience, but let the concept of lived time be perceived in the image.

We don’t linger on anything anymore. We grab and consume without desire, without purpose.
Fast food experiences, for fast trash works.


I testi e le immagini di questo sito sono di proprieta' esclusiva dell'Autore e sono protetti dalle leggi italiane ed internazionali sul diritto d'autore. Le immagini pubblicate non sono di pubblico dominio. Ogni riproduzione, traduzione, adattamento o uso come base per un'altra realizzazione fotografica o per un'altra illustrazione sono proibiti senza l'espressa autorizzazione scritta dell'Autore.

Copyright notice: All texts and all the images of this site are property of the Author and protected under the Italian and international copyright laws. The published pictures are not public domain. Any reproduction, translation or other use are prohibited without the express written permission by the Author.