GENERAL DONATIONS
GENERAL DONATIONS
GENERAL DONATIONS
Non ho mai immaginato di diventare una fotografa, né di viaggiare in Africa.La mia avventura nella fotografia è cominciata per una brutta e imprevedibile circostanza nel 2013.Mio padre era un fotografo naturalista. Era uno spirito libero. Viaggiava da solo in luoghi remoti, in Kamčatka. Scalava montagne, anche le ottomila. Amava la montagna, adorava gli orsi bruni. Era un uomo colto, legato visceralmente alla natura: sapeva leggere i pericoli, sopravvivere senza cibo per giorni, cavarsela ovunque.Quando ero piccola, la sua assenza — da qualche parte in mezzo al nulla — non mi faceva impazzire. I suoi racconti mi scivolavano addosso. Non ero pronta a capirli.Nel marzo del 2013 mio padre ha perso la vita mentre sciava in montagna, in Kazakistan, vicino ad Almaty.Da lì, tutto ha cambiato direzione.Per tenerlo con me ho preso la sua macchina fotografica: una Canon EOS 6D, pesante, vissuta e con di obiettivi. All’inizio era solo un oggetto, una reliquia. Poi ha iniziato a parlarmi.Negli anni successivi ho viaggiato. Poco alla volta. Con quella macchina tra le mani. Ci giocavo, sbagliavo, imparavo. Guardavo le mie foto accanto alle sue: il confronto era impietoso. Non avevo studiato nulla, non conoscevo regole, tempi, esposizioni. Ma in ogni posto in cui arrivavo, lui c’era.Nel 2017 ho iniziato a fidarmi di me stessa. E ho capito una cosa: la natura sì, ma non i paesaggi. Io volevo il movimento. Gli animali. Il battito, la tensione, l’attimo prima che qualcosa accada.In Corea del Sud, nel gennaio del 2017, ho comprato il mio primo teleobiettivo Tamron. Il corpo macchina era ancora il suo. In qualche modo, stavamo scattando insieme.
For me, charitable donations are not just an outward gesture, but a form of personal responsibility and of being true to who I am. My relationship with nature, with Africa, with wild animals and with the landscapes I have learned to love is very deep. When I am in these places, when I observe them and truly live them, I receive so much: inspiration, emotions, joy, subtle perceptions, a kind of happiness that is almost a spiritual experience.
This is why it is not enough for me to simply “use” this beauty. I feel the need to give something back, as if it were necessary to close a circle. Donations, for me, are a concrete way to keep a balance between what I take and what I give. I do not want only to look at the natural world and tell its stories, but also to protect it, support it, help it survive and continue to exist.
Beyond the project related to leopards, I know many other countries and many projects that need support: protected areas, local communities, research initiatives, environmental education programs. Each place has its own story, its own pain, its own urgency. This is why I see charity as a broader and more conscious form of involvement, not tied to a single cause. In many of these projects, even small donations can make a difference, especially when more people choose to contribute.
For me, charitable donations are not just an outward gesture, but a form of personal responsibility and of being true to who I am. My relationship with nature, with Africa, with wild animals and with the landscapes I have learned to love is very deep. When I am in these places, when I observe them and truly live them, I receive so much: inspiration, emotions, joy, subtle perceptions, a kind of happiness that is almost a spiritual experience.
This is why it is not enough for me to simply “use” this beauty. I feel the need to give something back, as if it were necessary to close a circle. Donations, for me, are a concrete way to keep a balance between what I take and what I give. I do not want only to look at the natural world and tell its stories, but also to protect it, support it, help it survive and continue to exist.
Beyond the project related to leopards, I know many other countries and many projects that need support: protected areas, local communities, research initiatives, environmental education programs. Each place has its own story, its own pain, its own urgency. This is why I see charity as a broader and more conscious form of involvement, not tied to a single cause. In many of these projects, even small donations can make a difference, especially when more people choose to contribute.
For me, charitable donations are not just an outward gesture, but a form of personal responsibility and of being true to who I am. My relationship with nature, with Africa, with wild animals and with the landscapes I have learned to love is very deep. When I am in these places, when I observe them and truly live them, I receive so much: inspiration, emotions, joy, subtle perceptions, a kind of happiness that is almost a spiritual experience.
This is why it is not enough for me to simply “use” this beauty. I feel the need to give something back, as if it were necessary to close a circle. Donations, for me, are a concrete way to keep a balance between what I take and what I give. I do not want only to look at the natural world and tell its stories, but also to protect it, support it, help it survive and continue to exist.
Beyond the project related to leopards, I know many other countries and many projects that need support: protected areas, local communities, research initiatives, environmental education programs. Each place has its own story, its own pain, its own urgency. This is why I see charity as a broader and more conscious form of involvement, not tied to a single cause. In many of these projects, even small donations can make a difference, especially when more people choose to contribute.
For me, it is very important not to limit myself to using what I love, but also to learn to give. Helping nature means helping the planet, our common home, from which we all come and in which we all live. Protecting an animal,
a tree or a specific area really means protecting a part of ourselves, of our future, of our humanity. In this sense, charity is for me a gesture of gratitude, respect and responsibility, a way to remember that the beauty we receive is not a right, but a gift that we must learn to guard and to share.
After having experienced, in depth, the beauty and fragility of the natural world, donations take on an even deeper meaning for me. It is like a second breath: first you receive, absorb and live everything intensely; then you give back, support and protect. I feel this passage from “taking” to “giving” as a step of inner maturity, a way to honour what I have seen and what I have felt. It is not only an ethical choice, but almost a ritual: a way to remain in balance with the planet and with the life that surrounds us.
Through donations, even though I’m not in Africa, I still remain connected to that part of the world.
Charity helps me not to lose that thread: the bond with those places, with those animals, with the people I have met. Physically I am no longer there, but by supporting projects I continue to be part of that world and, in a certain sense, to return home.
For me, it is very important not to limit myself to using what I love, but also to learn to give. Helping nature means helping the planet, our common home, from which we all come and in which we all live. Protecting an animal,
a tree or a specific area really means protecting a part of ourselves, of our future, of our humanity. In this sense, charity is for me a gesture of gratitude, respect and responsibility, a way to remember that the beauty we receive is not a right, but a gift that we must learn to guard and to share.
After having experienced, in depth, the beauty and fragility of the natural world, donations take on an even deeper meaning for me. It is like a second breath: first you receive, absorb and live everything intensely; then you give back, support and protect. I feel this passage from “taking” to “giving” as a step of inner maturity, a way to honour what I have seen and what I have felt. It is not only an ethical choice, but almost a ritual: a way to remain in balance with the planet and with the life that surrounds us.
Through donations, even though I’m not in Africa, I still remain connected to that part of the world.
Charity helps me not to lose that thread: the bond with those places, with those animals, with the people I have met. Physically I am no longer there, but by supporting projects I continue to be part of that world and, in a certain sense, to return home.
For me, it is very important not to limit myself to using what I love, but also to learn to give. Helping nature means helping the planet, our common home, from which we all come and in which we all live. Protecting an animal,
a tree or a specific area really means protecting a part of ourselves, of our future, of our humanity. In this sense, charity is for me a gesture of gratitude, respect and responsibility, a way to remember that the beauty we receive is not a right, but a gift that we must learn to guard and to share.
After having experienced, in depth, the beauty and fragility of the natural world, donations take on an even deeper meaning for me. It is like a second breath: first you receive, absorb and live everything intensely; then you give back, support and protect. I feel this passage from “taking” to “giving” as a step of inner maturity, a way to honour what I have seen and what I have felt. It is not only an ethical choice, but almost a ritual: a way to remain in balance with the planet and with the life that surrounds us.
Through donations, even though I’m not in Africa, I still remain connected to that part of the world.
Charity helps me not to lose that thread: the bond with those places, with those animals, with the people I have met. Physically I am no longer there, but by supporting projects I continue to be part of that world and, in a certain sense, to return home.