Much has changed in the twenty-some years since my first flight. I started a family, my kids went off to school, and up in the air people have been replaced by drones. The whole world has been photographed and is available to anyone at the touch of a screen. Every inch of the map has been interpreted and multiplied in a thousand ways.

I am still drawn to the air. I continue to wander the skies. Concentrating more on what I feel when I see than on what I see and know about the world. I search for impressions that will remain in my imagination after I’ve stopped looking. It is my ritual: I enter a state of meditation or mindfulness and then I take pictures.

I am an architect by training; my profession has shaped my way of seeing. I analyze the contents of a landscape and present the results in the form of abstract, harmonious images. Sometimes they resemble drafts containing complex information, other times they look like maps with traces of human activity imprinted in the structure of the Earth. More and more, they present a world that is abstract and detached from reality, yet true. I express emotions, impressions and reflections, which come to me during my solitary flights.

I search relentlessly for new perspectives on where I live and new phenomena that I overlooked before. I keep on wondering what makes me focus my attention on specific spots in an infinite landscape. This leads to more questions. They will never end.