Under a rainy stars…

I saw her descending the crest in the rain that day. Head bowed and curved shoulders but with his unshakable pride and dignity. I ran into her, called her with my heart in her hand, screaming for her secret name, eventually I reached her and she turned.
Her gaze  was opaque and confused, a tremendous unexpressed sorrow.

Where are you going?
Let me go, please.
Do not leave me alone, I can not do it without you.
Trust me and keep me in my heart, I’ll be there.
Then a handshake, a hug and a heartbreak between a smile and a cry.

She turned and walked in, followed her with a look until she became a point away, and I continued, and I continue to do so, chasing a white, red and gray whip from the immense and indomitable heart.

She was born in the rising sun of a rainy day, under a sky of weeping stars, fragmenting into the air, sheltering in a few silent souls.
And if you listen to silence at dusk, you will feel the crystal clear and painfully happy scrap of the deep and polychromatic blue scale intoned by the girl of September:

“I was born
With the morning sun
In a snowy day
Under a rainy stars … “






This side.

What’s wrong on this side of the moon?
Please come in, and close the door behind you,
little lady,
sit down near the invisible line
of silent soul with the eyes without limitness,
and cross behind the courtains of your blindness
jump the stakes of normality
and follow the thin red wire of your fringed kite.
Stay with me in our silence.

Tyson’s run.


Nothing new on the east front,
no one sees the soul that stands out
from the top of the tree during our inner midnight.
No one sees the trails traced
on the worn and twisted metal nets.
Almost one turn,
but a fawn biocohol of hope,
and we run again, together,
for him.


Niente di nuovo sul fronte orientale,
nessuno vede l’anima che si staglia
dalla cima dell’albero
durante nostra mezzanotte interiore.
Nessuno vede i sentieri tracciati
sulle metalliche reti consunte e contorte.
Quasi un turno,
ma un fulvo bioccolo di speranza,
e corriamo ancora insieme,
per lui.



Who is keeping love for me apart from you?
Still was so much, and i don’t forget what was inside
even was my heart inside you
but one day something gone bad
I just wanted to tell you
what I whispered to you too late…

Lasciatemi in questo mare bianco, grigio, blu e nero
dove i marosi determinano il nostro cammino
e il mare le nostre vite,
confrontandoci in silenzio con l’esistenza,
io e te da soli, spalla a spalla,
ricercando noi stessi fino alla sorgente dell’eterno fiume.

Let me in this white, gray, blue and black sea
Where the waves of the sea determine our path
And the sea our lives,
by confronting us in silence with existence,
you and i alone, shoulder a shoulder,
seeking ourselves to the source of the eternal river.

Three turn, September girl, soldier of winter, and we never stop our run.

Tre turni, ragazza di Settembre, soldato d’inverno, e la nostra corsa non si ferma.

Ladycat War Zone #12. “Hill 139”

2 - Copia

I came to the hill of silence and
there is a wonderful sky here,
full of stars.

No one except him
will cry for me.
But this my shroud
now will welcome the wandering souls
in the cold winter.
And I will revive
in them.

Sono arrivata alla vetta del silenzio,
c’è un cielo meraviglioso quassù,
pieno di stelle.

Nessuno a parte lui
piangerà per me.
Ma questo mio sudario
ora accoglierà le anime vaganti
nel freddo inverno
ed io rivirò in loro.

Ladycat War Zone #11. “Psilence”


Enjoy the psilence of the sad eyes of a warriors with no voice,
follow their footsteps one step a side and two back
in the blue scale of a pilgrims
from a long and forgotten time under a deep sky.

They was born on the ridge of the mountain after a summer storm,
their first cry and our first look were hidden by the roar and thunder,
the first breaths was the smell of wet earth.
Their steps was always on the tip of the mild and light feets.

Another waltz, one just before the lightning and the thunder bring back us to home.
Over there.

… Can you feel this peace, 
can you see this beautiful landscape?
Stay with us a little bit more, 
then we’ll come home,





A great photographic project from the point of view of cats and colonies,
mediated by the ruthless look and the bright colors of the author.
A hidden world, glimpsed through the magnificent dark light of the protagonists, invisible but constant and powerful presence, sentinels of an Indian reserve of existence.
There are no beautiful portraits or cats there, but only the reality of the road and shelters in a precarious and perpetual struggle for existence, and all the emotions are underlined, but never shown, with a superb emotional filter of the photographer.
A condensed two-year hard-working wait and exploration, a contemporary and sore fresco, a solemn resistance to verbal and visual rhetoric.
I was lucky to follow to follow the long-standing professional and emotional evolution of the author, and this is the sum of his work, in continuous development, and every shot is a story to see and listen to, with no thoughts or preconceived ideas.
A wonderful job to be seen and reviewed every time with different eyes.

“Subsultim in niveos pathei”
Jumping over the snow-covered trail without leaving a trace.
Like the invisibles.





Un progetto fotografico dal punto di vista dei gatti di strada e delle colonie, mediato dallo sguardo privo di retorica e dei colori sgargianti dell’autrice.
Un mondo nascosto, intravisto attraverso i magnifici chiaroscuri dei protagonisti, presenze invisibili ma costanti e potenti, sentinelle di una riserva indiana dell’esistenza.
Qui non ci sono bei ritratti o gatti in posa, ma solo la realtà della strada e dei rifugi in precaria e perenne lotta per l’esistenza, e tutte le emozioni sono sottintese, mostrate ma mai dette, con un superbo filtro emotivo della fotografa.
Un condensato di due anni di duro lavoro di attesa ed esplorazione, un affresco contemporaneo e
dolente, una solenne resistenza alla retorica verbale e visiva.
Ho avuto la fortuna di seguire la lunga evoluzione professionale ed emotiva dell’autrice, e questo è la summa del suo lavoro, in continuo svolgimento, e ogni scatto è una storia da vedere ed ascoltare, senza pensieri o idee preconcette.
Un bellissimo lavoro, da vedere e rivedere ogni volta con occhi diversi.

“Subsultim in niveos pathei”
Saltando oltre il sentiero innevato, senza lasciare traccia.
Come gli invisibili.