These photographs were taken during the “Carnavale Ambrosiano” in a small village in the North of Italy. Usually not much happens here, but on this Saturday in February, with the snow still in the fields and with the help of a sparkling sun, a small miracle happened: for a few hours, the streets and the local park were filled with happiness and encounters. The village had woken up to a day filled with dreams.
to belong
Sometimes travelling far is looking around and seeing where you really are.
I have been living intermittently in a small village in the North of Italy.
Not very long ago this village was only a small agriculture centre, where everyone knew each other. It has become with anxious speed a large anonymous dormitory suburb of Milan.
It's inhabitants never meet, were it not for those rare cultural festivities like the Milanese Carnival (il Carnevale Ambrosiano) that make this story.
On a Saturday in spring , with the snow still on the rice fields, and the help of a sparkling sun, a small miracle happened; for a few hours, the streets and the local park were filled with happiness and encounters.
For just one day this spring, the village woke up and dreamed a place where people gather together and feel they do belong.