November nights, at least here in Parma, never seem to change. I leave my office late, the fog rests for a fleeting moment and gives me time that seems infinite, but which is only an instant and is simply a kiss. The camera records the moment with an electric click. The lips of the two lovers on bicycles are touching and warm. The fog is magic, it is that cold mist which gets into your bones, it muffles sounds, makes details disappear, it has a perfume that cannot be described. The instant becomes pure and infinite and changes the world. The lovers disappear. I don't know anything about them.
On the streets I observe people in a World which is often a metaphor of itself. I love to photograph it; to remember it, to review it and to reflect.
*This volume contains twenty photographs of the author taken around the world.