Getting closer changes everything. At four feet, the street stops being a backdrop - it pulls you in. Two nuns pass a neon peep show, a painted body strides through a crosswalk, astronauts march between taxis. Faces, gestures, contrasts - at this distance, nothing is neutral. Everything is charged, layered, alive.
These photographs were taken in the same streets as Around My Block, but here, distance collapses. At this range, there’s no hiding. Expressions become clearer, tension more palpable. The city doesn’t just move - it reacts. Some ignore the camera, some embrace it, others push back. The street is no longer just a scene; it’s a conversation.
Four feet is the space where the familiar turns unpredictable. Where strangers become characters, and every step forward is a step deeper into the city's raw, unscripted rhythm.
Selection of 30 pictures - Film camera
The city hides more than it shows. Shadows swallow faces, neon flickers on passing bodies, gestures disappear into the crowd. Then the flash hits. A second of clarity - expressions caught off guard, eyes locking with the lens, moments that shouldn’t have lasted but suddenly do. The light doesn’t just reveal - it exposes.
With flash, the city has nowhere to retreat. Every frame is a raw slice of movement, a collision of strangers, a brief moment of truth. What happens next is already gone - but for that instant, everything is exposed.
Selection of 18 pictures - Film camera
New York in the rain isn’t romantic. There’s no jazz soundtrack, no poetic reflections on wet sidewalks. Just urgency. Water slamming down, clothes clinging, umbrellas snapping inside out in an instant. Some people run, some huddle under doorways, and some just surrender - soaked to the bone, staring blankly into the downpour.
What interests me isn’t just the struggle, but the unscripted reactions - the way a soaked stranger laughs in disbelief, how a businessman grips his useless umbrella like a broken shield, or how a mother instinctively shields her child with her own body. These are the moments I chase. The ones where the city loses control for a second, where instinct takes over, and where people reveal something raw.
Because when the rain comes this hard, it doesn’t just soak the city - it strips it down to its most human moments.
Selection of 30 pictures - Film camera
For a long time, Manhattan was my entire world. I walked its streets daily, camera in hand, capturing its energy, its movement, its pulse. Beyond the rivers, the other boroughs were just distant names - places I never felt the need to explore.
Then, one day, I left. A random decision, a subway ride heading north, and suddenly, I was somewhere else. The Bronx, Queens, Brooklyn, Staten Island - places I had never known, yet places that felt strangely familiar. Streets lined with red brick buildings, children playing on stoops, echoes of a life that could have been mine in another time, another place.
This series isn’t about documenting a city. It’s about a feeling - about walking through unfamiliar streets and seeing reflections of my own past. These images exist somewhere between reality and memory, between what I saw and what I imagined.
Selection of 20 pictures - Film camera
Paris, seen through the grain of black and white film, feels suspended in time.
This series is a return to my earliest years of street photography - a time when I roamed the city with a camera, instinctively drawn to scenes that echoed the great humanist photographers of the past. The moments I captured don’t belong to any specific era; they could have been taken decades ago or yesterday.
There’s a certain stillness to the city, hidden in plain sight. A man in a crisp suit, lost in thought, flicks a lighter to the tip of his cigarette, his posture and movements echoing a hundred Parisian figures before him. In a quiet park, an old man sits alone on a bench, hands folded over his cane, watching the world move on without him. Elsewhere, beneath the shade of neatly aligned trees, another man scatters breadcrumbs to a waiting flock of pigeons, caught in a ritual as old as the city itself.
These are fragments of a Paris that exists beyond time - where the past lingers in the present, and where human connection, solitude, and the quiet poetry of daily life remain untouched.
Selection of 20 pictures - Film camera
