I am late in publishing this post, which marks the end of 2025. I feel like I am into a slow phase, even though it is the contrary indeed as a lot of stuff is happening.
2025 was a year of action and turning points. It was relentless, fast, hard but good. I believe I reached a wider maturity and self-awareness. Some of the blessings were a renewed courage and the enormous and uplifting love and support received from many friends throughout this season. On many occasions I felt accepted and cherished, I could also express a part of my inner-self while working with kids, with a positive team’s impact.
At moments I felt stuck, however there was always something, there was always a chance around the corner and something was about to happen. I spent most of this year trying to treat an inflammation (which has not yet completely gone away), taking cortisone and experiencing blurred vision in my itchy left eye, thanks to the after-effects of a nasty viral infection of the cornea. Let’s just say that I can now ask to 2026: “Please, give me the boring!!”
In spring I moved to Parma, where I stayed for 6 months, then left for Bristol and returned to Parma by the end of the year. Not having found my way yet, and dealing with my mother’s concerning symptoms, memory wise (now also under a physical stand point, as she broke her femur in December) were painful mark points that led me to take practical decisions “under fire”.
The end of the year came with a busy schedule and I had to manage my emotions whilst handling obligations. The past weeks were mentally noisy and emotionally tense. I lived this period with a sense of strain, worry, unclearness. But I believe that this situation is temporary and NOT a catastrophe!
In this very moment progress is slower than I want. I am juggling more demands and I am not having a clear mind to be able to think about myself. I need to give myself priorities, balancing support for my mother and with my own life, without feeling overwhelmed, lost, empty. I want to trust my instincts, not letting fear distorting my daily life. And I believe that I can stay on top of things, even when overwhelmed!!
Earlier on today I spoke on the phone with a friend who said to me: “What do you plan to do with your life? You are meant for great things, but at the moment you are not building anything”. And I replied to her : “You’re right”. And I don’t love that, over the past 10 years, I haven’t carefully worked out myself and that I have lost time in projects that I haven’t fulfilled but it is a privilege to BE HERE NOW. I hope that the “dark ages” of my life are finally gone and I know God has good plans for me and I trust that whole heartedly.
Now it is the moment to pause and to chose a direction. It is rather about planning than acting. I need to weigh options carefully and to look beyond the current mess. May 2026 be to me a year in pursuit of significance, a call for stability and of a time of positive encounters! I pray that I will have the courage to choose something (and someone) that is suitable for me and that I will commit to last.
Over the years, I have realised that the photographer becomes “invisible”. It is the she subject to emerge from the shots, whilst the camera can be a medium and an alibi for the photographer to “hide”. However, my theory is that although the photographer is not seen, he emerges from the photographs, not only for his style, but also for the ‘content’, the colours, the ideas behind a project and for what he choses to emphasise and the way he communicates it.
I am very happy that I was not afraid to show myself and that I had the honour of being photographed by such a powerful, resourceful, perfectionist, well organised and determined artist as Martina Biasetti! Thank you, Martina, for these candid portraits, as I cherish them!!
In a summer that is hardly ending, a pillar of our family left us last month, my aunt Angela. She was a woman full of integrity, gifted by an upright and trustworthy personality. Her long, quite often challenging, existence was not about her: she devoted it to her family and her work. She was one of the most self-sacrificing persons I have ever met. She was genuine to her core, a silent giver, resilient and courageous. The fond memories I will keep of her are her vital energy, her laboriousness, her warm hospitality, her culinary skills, her gusto for telling facts and describing people. She played a key role in our family and was respected in her community. She was unwavering in leading a generous life, and her love has strengthened us in ways that are more powerful than we can imagine. We all have learnt something from her.
“So with you: Now is your time of grief, but I will see you again and you will rejoice, and no one will take away your joy” – John 16:22
I don’t celebrate many anniversaries but I decided that this one was worth not ending up under the door! Yes, I entered the world of photography 15 years ago! I also wanted to share some photos of my first real camera, a Lumix…I still have its battery!
f I had to describe myself with positive adjectives, I would pick: artistic, dreamer, idealist, open minded, communicative, relational, socially aware, cooperative, genuine, reserved. Now I can confirm that “artistic, communicative and relational” have been substantially enforced thanks to my photographic adventure.
Quite often big things start small, in a quiet, unplanned way and this was my case…Photography was and is a journey. When I started in early May 2009, I was taking architecture and street photography snapshots during my spare time. I was unstructured and NAIVE but I still believe that being naive to high possibility of failure is what pushed me forward. Honestly, I feel more nervous and fearful before portrait sessions now than I was years ago! I did not stick with a plan nor did I had a vision. I did not hope for success and I never imagined that I might be THAT successful one day. However, I was dreaming of producing pictures that gave me goosebumps. Photography was a pastime that became an increasingly valuable hobby. It made me feel less lonely and more fulfilled. It pulled out of me an acting capacity. It contributed to reinforce my self-confidence and it allowed me to open up more and to discover a RADIANT side I was unaware of. It is a platform that still CONNECTS me with other people.
It took me TIME to realise that what fired me up most are people, especially family dynamics. Even though it has never been a profession for me and I doubt that it will ever become one day as, from my character point of view, I have always felt the need of financial certainty and economic cornerstones that a freelance activity would not give me, this activity takes a big part of my heart and makes me thrive as I feel myself fully into it.
Photography taught me:
1. To overcome the fear of making mistakes and to learn by experience. I took a photography course in 2010 and, since then, I have exchanged with many photographers, but I don’t hold a photography degree. I learnt more and way faster “on the field” trying and making mistakes, especially by shooting manually. Photographers are the ones who do the work and shoot manually…. not the camera.
2. Quality wins. It is priceless to give someone beautiful images that they will cherish for a lifetime.
3. As photographers, we will use our personality to SERVE clients. I have received a lot of appreciation, affection, good marketing 🤗 from people I have been working with in the past 15 years, but I have also GIVEN them a lot in terms of time, commitment, vision, adaptability, understanding their needs, putting them as 1st during the shoot, willingness to improve.
4. THRIVING in what you do is a game changer. Hey, there must be joy and a funny factor! It is not only a question of delivering good pictures, it is the whole experience that matters and the positive impact and connection you can establish with people!
5. Last but not least, DEDICATION is prized…always!
At around 4:30 pm of the 13th of April 2022 you left us, Dad. Friends and people who knew you, when they were informed about your death, were in shock. I clearly remember the dates related to the last vortex of your earthly journey. 30th of January, we got the diagnosis which left us no hope and our world shuttered. 15th of February, the results of the gastroscopy confirmed the gravity of the cancer. 11th of March, you caught Covid and this did not allow you to start the medical treatment. 30th of March, you were taken into the hospital. I flew from Edinburgh on the 8th of April and I saw you on the 10th and the 12th (at that time, the Covid’s protocol in Italy allowed only one member of the family at a time, one hour per day). I remember your expression when I popped into your room, you repeatedly said : “What a lovely surprise!”
I don’t have any regrets but it was SO overwhelming to see your pain and to accept that there was nothing we could do to help, apart from being there and praying. April 13th to me is a day to open up to life, to celebrate your life and to remember all the good things and moments you have experienced. You have lived, dad, and I know that you are alive even now. You are in our hearts and thoughts. You loved us, you were loved and now you are love.
The feeling of belonging and acceptance, in my original home, came from my father. From him, I felt accepted and loved in an unconditional way, without limits and, above all, without judgment. he gave me his presence and granted me a huge amount of his free time. He was a great playmate and a friendly presence throughout my childhood. Growing up, he always would be reachable to me, he would listen to me. I was always able to talk to him: we understood each other because we were tuned in to one another. Our relationship wasn’t all roses and flowers. I judged him, I saw his weaknesses, the difficulty he had in accepting himself with his problems, I criticized these. But, in the end, he was a genuine person and, I would say, intellectually honest. He always protected me. He was proud of me. And I hope that now he is praying over me. Dad, may you be content and finally free and at peace. I love you!
PS I cherish so much this drawing (isn’t it a vintage one?) dated 19/03/1993. You can bet from what side of the family my artistic vein comes from…
Here I am with an old portrait dated September 2012. I had super long hair and, back in those days, I was in the silly phase of “Fake it till you make it”. I was never deeply in love with my physical appearance and at that time, as I still had acne, I used Photoshop extensively to soften my skin. I also was a huge fan of hair clips (a passion for which I have not completely forgotten!). More than a decade has passed and I I’d like to share a few thoughts that I would have liked to be aware of, 12 years ago, and that I should have repeated to myself every day in front of the mirror:
Don’t be afraid, girl, you can make it happen!
Accept yourself and embrace your imperfection, that is more appealing than your idea of perfection!
Trust your guts in order to realise your projects without further ado, you are a good decision-maker!
Don’t waste your time (which is the ultimate and irreplaceable value), get straight to the point
Open your mouth to tell what you think, at the right moment
Act more, do not fall in the overthinking’s tunnel (that’s always a sensitive issue!)
Comparing to others is a loss of time, as you really don’t know what is going on in their lives
Don’t neglect your body: also your appearance contributes to your psychological well-being
Be honest about yourself, do not fear to be judged by others
Stay warm and open to others, be compassionate
And finally: Keep going, girl, you are enough! Your achievements with photography over the past decade have been impressive 🙂
Each stage of life is different and life can challenge us at all stages but obviously there are rougher times. Shall I resume my last decade, the words that come to my mind are “slow, tiring change” and “prolonged battle phase”. This decade proved to be the busiest, toughest and most challenging period of my life. My fears and insecurities have come to the surface and seemed to overwhelm me, more members of my family have passed and I have also experienced some minor health issues. I have felt more difficult to love myself and to accept my limits. I have felt stuck, emotionally and physically, and I have felt ashamed of this.
That challenging time isn’t over yet, however I have now got the hopeful feeling that this oppressive and overwhelming phase is slowly fading away and I am regaining courage to open up to life.
Would I be in the position to give some advice about how to pass through difficult times? I can say that I have learnt that almost often growth happen in silence and in the small, annoying difficulties that we experience in everyday life. These kinds of hardships, repeated in time, will make us endure over time. During these past years, accepting myself for who I am and accepting to surrender to slowness has been hard, especially for my overachiever, rebellious side who wants to reach an idealistic image of myself that doesn’t exist. Accepting hard times or situations is difficult, but it is also dealing with those inner parts of ourselves that we perceive as weak or faulty.
I have allowed myself to find some peace of mind and to focus on my needs by acting, giving myself new projects. We cannot really change our nature but, if we are mindful, we can work on it, we can smooth it. Hope and will are meaningful motivational factors.
Dark times are the true “teachers” in our life, and that every person we meet or every event that we face have a meaning in our journey. Even in my darkest moments I have always been aware that there was a joyful sparkle in me, this little something was pushing me forward. There is beauty in a bad life chapter as this prepares us to something positive that will come next. And finally I pushed myself and took part in a Marketing webinar for photographers 🙂 Happy new year folks!
For my 40th, I treated myself to a photo session with the highly talented Parma-based Martina Biasetti. When I look at these pictures, I think: “They are wonderful!!”. They are stunning and a valuable piece of art, I find. Martina captured the best in me. With these shots, she valued me a lot and that’s not just because she did a clever editing. In the poses, using light and shadows, out-of-focus effects, the choice of colours and use of black and white, she has brought out the best in me. I don’t recognise my usual faults 🙂 I LOVE this photo-shoot! And if something is beautiful, it’s worth sharing…Thank you, Martina, you did such a great job!!
Time flies and we are almost at the end of this year. Trying to make an assessment of the past 11 months, I can say that 2022 has been a rough year in a concentrated season of life.
On the family side, it was high-pressure and tiring. My granny passed away on the 4th of January, then Dad was diagnosed with a 4th stage cancer a few weeks later. February & March were frantic months where his pain and our fears echoed his medical appointments. In April I flew back home and had the chance to spend some time with him before he died in his sleep. The next step was supporting my mum to accept her loss and grieve. Last but not least, sorting the bureaucratic stuff was challenging too.
On the professional side, I hit a high level of unhappiness with my job. My rational-thoughtful side made me hesitate about making a career move. Between October & November I took a 8 weeks hiatus from work. I was burnt out: it was both a psychological and a physical fatigue. To bounce back from this burnt-out phase, I needed to take action. I took time for myself: it was not “an empty space”. On the contrary it was a unique opportunity, an enriching time to re-focus, re-balance, re-define myself and my needs. I realised what sucked the energy our of me and what can fire me up, what can inspire me. Before writing this article I asked 6 people who have known me for ages whether they think I am a patient person. All 6 answered: Yes. I have been waiting for a long time to come to the decision of changing my line of work and to be brave enough to go for a completely different job which I will start in January.
On the photographic side, 2022 was the least productive of the past 13 years. I shot only 8 portrait sessions + 1 wedding. I haven’t done any Marketing at all to self-promote. Also, my blogging was reduced to the bones. Weirdly enough, I am not worried about that. I believe that a stagnant period can be the prelude to a new blooming season.
On the personal side… Some of my fears have been faced and dissolved in the light of rationality. I have felt worried, defeated, weak but also loved, understood, supported and cherished. I have grown and changed. The illness and the loss of my father pushed me to reconsider & redraw my life and to review some of my choices. I am more aware of what I want to achieve, what/who I am looking for in my private and professional life. Generally speaking, I consider myself a brave person, however now I am learning to put the action first. I believe that 2023 will also be another tough year but… I know that I am in the palm of His Hand and that He is leading me through this journey to self-determination and to fulfill significance.
Martina started following me on Instagram, I followed her back, that’s how it started. We did not know each other even though (weirdly enough) we are both from Parma and we were born the same year! I checked her portfolio and loved ALL of her shots, so I asked her to take some portraits of me.
We met one evening at 6 pm in some fields outside the city. It was a clear blue night, with a powerful dry heat (33 celsius!). I enjoyed posing for her. Being a photographer myself, I decided literally “to shut my mouth” and follow her lead. She was in charge & I was the subject. I was impressed by her preparation. She had clear ideas of what she wanted. Also, she had already prepared part of the set before we started to shoot (a romantic chair on the side of the field, with a white sheet hung from a tree) . She is polite, determined, clear-minded and massively focused on details.
At the end of the session I was dying to get a sneak preview but did not dare to ask. A couple of days ago I received a selection of 18 photos & collages. I cherish all of them: they are so elegant! I find that there is a mix of poetry and painting in them! This is what fine art photography means to me.
I truly believe that she captured my inner-self. These shots are delicate and I consider myself a gentle soul. They have an inch of sweetness and malinconia. They are powerful in their beauty…and I have discovered a sort of charme of the 50s in them! Last but not least, they make me feel so young!! Thank you, Martina!!
You can visit Martina’s portfolio on Instagram or you can reach her out via the website Matrimonio.com!
With sadness we announce the passing of my father, who departed this life on Wednesday 13th April 2022, during the Holy week. This article is in his loving memory
Maurizio Arvasi (Parma, 21/05/1950- 13/04/2022)
“Then the other disciple who had reached the tomb first also went inside, and he saw and believed. They still did not understand the Scripture indicating that he must rise from the dead” – John 20: 8
Even during a funeral, nobody really wants to hear talking about death. We are sick and tired of talking about death and the bad, as this appears daily on the tv and in the newspapers. There are battles going on all across the world but we also experience them on our personal journey. There are people we know and love who are dying for many reasons and yet we struggle to accept human suffering and death.
I am Christian, even although I have doubts in my faith. However, even as a Christian, I can’t perceive pain as a blessing, I rather see it as a curse. Having seen my father recently pass away, following a short but very harsh fight against cancer, I am sure that there is no logical reason nor a rational explanation behind and beyond human pain and suffering. What we can do, is somehow justify or accept pain and death through love. We can live it to the end, being unable to get any answers to our questions.
God is not acting like we would, but it is also true that: “For my thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways my ways, says the Lord” – Isaiah 55: 8.
Death and by extension the evil cannot “imprison” God. I believe that God is present amongst us. He exists and is working silently, under all circumstances. My family and I, we experienced a sort of “caring comfort” continuously, during the illness of my father as we experienced a serie of “favorable circumstances”. We had the impression that “an invisible hand” was, somehow, holding us and leading us through it. Throughout the dark time of his illness and also after he died, we have been literally surrounded and constantly supported by the presence and affection of friends, family, acquaintances. We have been lifted up in a way that we would have never imagine. This let us feel loved and gave us mental strenght.
“I, the Lord, have called you for a righteous purpose, I have taken you by the hand” – Isaiah 42: 6
I took the below above the day before dad passed. It is a meaningful memory to me, as it remembers how our Heavenly Father holds our hands, as we walk through an hard time.
I have seen my father suffering from a string of physical illnesses throughout his life. This was accompanied by a long period of depression, that began when I was a teenager. It wasn’t unusual for us to see him struggle emotionally or to accompany him to medical check-ups or to follow-up appointments. Over the years, he underwent through several surgical procedures. But he always fought hard and bounced back, in his weaknesses he was brave, and firm in persevering and in respecting the life he had been given.
In spring 2021 he showed mild signs of feeling unwell. The main and only symptom was, for months, an uncomfortable diarrhoea. By autumn he had lost weight but was still active and engaged in his activities.
In the beginning of January 2022, when I saw him, days after his mother (my granny) had passed, I had to admit to myself that something bad was ongoing, under the surface. He had lost his appetite and the weight’s lost was now worrisome.
On 21st January he had an emergency chest MRI. I should have flown to Edinburgh on 22nd January but, due to a prolonged bronchitis (providential plan of Fate!), I was forced to stay in Parma until early February. On 30th January we got the results and that’s when the world shuttered down for us. The diagnosis was overwhelmingly grim: stage 4 of gastro-esophageal cancer. As of today, I clearly remember how my father rolled his eyes when he heard it was a tumour.
A wicked waiting game started, as I moved back to Edin: I was unaware how the events would unfold and when the worst could happen. The phone calls to my parents became a daily routine and the prayers were incessant. So MANY people prayed over Maurizio. He was supposed to enter in the hospital on 12th March to start a chemotherapy cycle, but he caught Covid. Two nurses were coming at home a couple of times a week to administer medication. My mother, as a form of self-defence, was wrapped up in a denial phase, and was acting like dad had a flue.
On 30 March, turning point date, he was admitted to hospital. That day, after speaking with my team leader, I booked flight return tickets for 8th of April. During his first week in hospital, he still sounded responsive on the phone, with his beautiful sense of humour and his warm voice. Then I heard him fading away and I really felt out of control.
Back home, it was time to see him. Covid procedures were still in place at the hospital, so my mother sent me in her place, as it was only possible to enter the ward every other day, for 1 hour, 1 person at a time. I saw my father twice before he died, on the 10th and on the 12th of April, 1 hour each time.
These visits were special times that I will cherish forever. I remember the look on his face, the amazement when he saw me enter his room, dressed up in Covid’s protective clothing, saying and repeating: “What a lovely surprise you’ve given me, what a lovely surprise!”. I had time to hold him tight and to tell him that we loved him the way he was and that he was part of a project of love.
On 13 April, I was at home with my mother. In the afternoon we had had a friends’ visit and in the evening, we would have dinner with my father’s cousins (they were going to pick us up by car). At around 6:10 p.m., we received a call from the hospital. A doctor informed us: “Maurizio’s condition has worsened. We ask you to come here as soon as possible, in order to discuss the situation”. I remember well the shock that ran down my spine. I tried not to think and silently prayed to God: ‘I know that You are there.’ You are there for us, You are here, among us.
The rest is history: my cousins literally flew to our house and accompanied us to the hospital, where the doctor told us that my father had passed away shortly before, around 5 p.m. His heart had given out in his sleep. I can’t remember exactly what I felt at that moment, perhaps on the one hand I felt lost, on the other relieved, because his situation had become unbearable. In his last days, dad was pumped of morphine (he told me he couldn’t feel anything inside his body). He was lucid until the very end, but he was bedridden, his body was unrecognisable and was attached to a multitude of tubes.
In the aftermath of his death, my mother and myself, we did not feel alone, we pretty much felt part of a community (of friends, family, believers) who was there not only to support us but also to celebrate my father’s life.
His tumor taught me a lot about trust and resilience. I discovered a strength and an agency I could not imagine to have. I have seen the light shining through the cracks.
Jesus never sugar-coated what this life would be for us. He was honest, in fact he told us that we would face many obstacles and trials. Our bodies fail us, relationships fails us, our well-made plans too, but there is One that won’t. What I have learn so far from this very painful experience, is that “bad” and “good” are linked together in a mysterious, invisible way. Just after the struggle. comes the peace.
We have been redeemed. Humanity has been redeemed by His sacrifice, over and over again. And even when darkness seems to prevail, it won’t. Life beats death, death must not have the last word over life : this is the Easter message. Christ’s risen!
We wish you to be in peace, papà. We are grateful that you know now the perfect love, as you are close to Him, and part of His love. A piece of yourself lives in us. We love you and we are proud of you. Ciao, Capitano!
This life frame is crazy. 2022 started abruptly. Just about everything has been turned upside down. The last 4 weeks have been a rainfall of positive & negative events falling one after the other, in a rapid succession.
On January 4th when my 90 years old granny suddenly passed away for a massive heart attack. I flew back to Italy on January 7th but just missed her funeral by a few hours. I had already booked my tickets for those dates in early December, when we were unaware of everything. Was it destiny? I don’t think so. I have spent most of the time with my family, and catching up with a few friends. It was heart-warming and sad at the same time. Dad’s health is now giving us cause for serious concern.
I got the chance to pose as a model for a talented friend (a photographer who I consider to be a sort of an “Edgar Allan Poe of the camera”) Stefano Cavazzini. With my immense pleasure, he has already forwarded some early shots to me and I am in love with them! The day after I caught acute bronchitis and, because of that, I had to cancel my flight back to the UK. That is the first time in my life I have had to cancel a flight because of sickness.
In the meantime, a couple of my recent pics were published in PhotoVogue (this is always good for my self-esteem and provides a great and remarkable encouragement to keep on with my photography)!
I have felt lonely, worried, angry, uplifted, hopeful, rational & irrational, passive & pro-active, lost and so much loved. Things are changing quickly, this is a fact, and whilst one side of me looks forward to this, the other part is scared. As somebody told me a long time ago: “Only from time of crisis we can expect good things to come out”.
In January 2022, whilst on holidays, I had the chance to have a portrait session with a talented photographer who is also a dear friend, Stefano Cavazzini. Below you find his very much tasteful selection:
During these last few hours of 2021, I am trying to take stock of this year, which started in a tortuous way and ended pretty much straight! Unlike 2020 (which was dominated by fear and stagnation), 2021 was more than a positive year that helped me experiment and to widen my horizons! It was a period of recovery, but not only that.
I tried several new things: it was a year marked by friendships; I opened up (for the first time in my life!) to online dating; I reopened a blog (after a 6 years hiatus); I went back to film photography (whoop whoop!); I planned to move to a new country. Throughout the year I gained more self-consciousness and these past 12 months encouraged me to trust my intuitions! On the professional side it was hectic as I struggled to focus on tasks and prioritize my work. Sometimes time passed quickly and at other times slowly.
My HOPE for 2022 is to be more structured in pursuit of my personal life, work & hobby.
Elena Arvasi Portrait Photographer 