Ritratto di Dalila Pasquariello

bloodsand Ocan so is his name, Which he learned to extract the sand autobiographical notes My first steps in this field were the emotions, frozen like a still image from a memory, and expressed itself in my photography. As a child I tried to see in the wrinkles of the elderly in their suffering, to understand how to elicit a smile., Perhaps the only expression lines that would have a sense on their face. Growing up, my first car was not a Leica M4, was not a classic, there was nothing conventional. Resumai like a wreck at sea my first camera body ... was very enigmatic my beginning. I developed a manic obsessiveness about different photographic moments, I was looking for the perfect timing to steal the essence of what it appeared to me, or I was looking pointedly. My training is not limited to 'empiricism or to' autodidattismo: I was just catapulted into the world of work as matrimonialista, tourist photographer and later photoreporter for Surgery for children in Gulu in Uganda. In all this my practice has always followed me like a faithful companion of the advanced photography treaty Langford. I want to reveal to all the kind readers a glimpse of my photographic voyage, I was in limotrofe areas of Gulu lost in thick vegetation, I realize to be near a work site where a 10 year old child has taught me to take out the sand, this child with whom I shared the salt on the skin is called ocan. #children #africa #work #black #white #power #suffering #lover #journalism #life #risk #death #acholi #fine

silence...

strada chiusa d'inverno nel Parco nazionale della Maiella

bloodsand Ocan so is his name, Which he learned to extract the sand autobiographical notes My first steps in this field were the emotions, frozen like a still image from a memory, and expressed itself in my photography. As a child I tried to see in the wrinkles of the elderly in their suffering, to understand how to elicit a smile., Perhaps the only expression lines that would have a sense on their face. Growing up, my first car was not a Leica M4, was not a classic, there was nothing conventional. Resumai like a wreck at sea my first camera body ... was very enigmatic my beginning. I developed a manic obsessiveness about different photographic moments, I was looking for the perfect timing to steal the essence of what it appeared to me, or I was looking pointedly. My training is not limited to 'empiricism or to' autodidattismo: I was just catapulted into the world of work as matrimonialista, tourist photographer and later photoreporter for Surgery for children in Gulu in Uganda. In all this my practice has always followed me like a faithful companion of the advanced photography treaty Langford. I want to reveal to all the kind readers a glimpse of my photographic voyage, I was in limotrofe areas of Gulu lost in thick vegetation, I realize to be near a work site where a 10 year old child has taught me to take out the sand, this child with whom I shared the salt on the skin is called ocan. #children #africa #work #black #white #power #suffering #lover #journalism #life #risk #death #acholi #fine

Marcello Manca | Clara Portrait

bloodsand Ocan so is his name, Which he learned to extract the sand autobiographical notes My first steps in this field were the emotions, frozen like a still image from a memory, and expressed itself in my photography. As a child I tried to see in the wrinkles of the elderly in their suffering, to understand how to elicit a smile., Perhaps the only expression lines that would have a sense on their face. Growing up, my first car was not a Leica M4, was not a classic, there was nothing conventional. Resumai like a wreck at sea my first camera body ... was very enigmatic my beginning. I developed a manic obsessiveness about different photographic moments, I was looking for the perfect timing to steal the essence of what it appeared to me, or I was looking pointedly. My training is not limited to 'empiricism or to' autodidattismo: I was just catapulted into the world of work as matrimonialista, tourist photographer and later photoreporter for Surgery for children in Gulu in Uganda. In all this my practice has always followed me like a faithful companion of the advanced photography treaty Langford. I want to reveal to all the kind readers a glimpse of my photographic voyage, I was in limotrofe areas of Gulu lost in thick vegetation, I realize to be near a work site where a 10 year old child has taught me to take out the sand, this child with whom I shared the salt on the skin is called ocan. #children #africa #work #black #white #power #suffering #lover #journalism #life #risk #death #acholi #fine

My ascetic walk lasts two days. The first day entering the jungle I get lost, finding a mining site .. Countless children working children, hordes of little men making holes to make bricks. I was happy and happy because I knew that I would share with them beautiful moments, after having made the clown to make them laugh, I take Ocan out of the pool of mud and I start to dig in his place. That water was a vein branched off the lagoon where the incinerator burned the toxic waste from the hospital.

Lacor Hospital

On 28/11/2016 I can show you how important the sacrifice of the passion for truth is. That day was intense in Gulu in Northern Uganda, I was in Lacor Hospital with the doctors of surgery for children to document at least 5 interventions from MAR, ano-rectal malformation. At 4:00 pm I get out of the operating room, taken by the bitterness of those screams, I move away from Lacor, looking for my direction towards the lagoon .. I go to the villages, to the huts, I drink the water from the wells, I pray with the people, I eat with them the fruits of God

The little men washed and refreshed there from the heat. I brought that salt to my skin because if anthropologically their life has a value different from ours, why should mine be worth more than that of a child? Please answer, please do it if you love yourself.

Lacor Hospital