Barrels of rusty metal with the paint scratched, discoloured by the sun and wind. I hunted them on the streets of Italy, on the fields, in factories and abandoned houses. Most of them were photographed when raining or immediately after the rain.
I photographed the first barrel in the garden of an abandoned house. I was listening Dijvan Gasparyan in the headphones; nothing was moving and everything was grey outside, belonging the blue barrel with orange spots. The last one I found it while I was walking on a street of the old city, behind a kindergarten. It was full of green lizards. It heard laughter and smelt the perfume of orange tree. I called the photo "The secret door", but people in the abstract photos find what they want, what they can. I am amazed many times when they say, for example: “look, I see a silhouette there, a volcano on the other side, and here is a door.” Other people see in the same picture a completely other thing. I have the feeling that when I put into freedom the photos gain new meanings.