At the end of the summer of 2020 I fulfilled a desire I had for a long time: go up a river, walking barefoot in its riverbed. The choice fell on the Fiastra, a small river in the Marche region (Italy) which runs down from the mountains and reaches the sea, moving a few kilometres from where I live. Once I got to its mouth, I started my path carrying a tent with me, some food provisions and nothing more than what was strictly necessary to approach this solitary adventure. I reached the source within a week, getting out of the water as little as possible. The journey exceeded its expectations thanks to its many discoveries and encounters. Walking along the river I found myself going through untraced paths. I was forced to make my way through the thick vegetation, plunge into the freezing water, climb on the clay riverbanks and hug fallen branches and logs. Therefore, I came into contact with water, earth, trees and rocks. After staying for a long time in the riverbed without getting out I started sensing the strange feeling of not recognizing what was around me, as if all of a sudden I was in another world, a world made of unknown sounds, smells and colours. It's incredible how the proportions of a place that seems rather limited when seen from the outside can change the moment you physically experience it from within. In this sense, it is an actual wonderland, where spaces expand and blend in. The landscape of this water stream, so embracing, tortuous and labyrinthine, at the same time intricate and comforting, intimate and impenetrable, made me think of a representation of the subconscious. Inevitably, memories of a carefree childhood spent in close contact with nature resurfaced along the way. Thus, the physical journey to the source, advanced in parallel with an inner journey, which brought light to neglected areas of my memory and made me face new shadows, new barriers that need consideration. Once I returned from this journey, it was clear to me how I could transform this experience into a photographic narrative. My idea was to stage the human need for contact, discovery and introspection through a dialogue between my body and the elements of the river. I wanted to interpret the need to feel at home in one's body and to feel the whole world as a comforting and protective home. I imagined how, through photography, inner stories and outer worlds, as simple and close as they are unknown and mysterious, could get out there and merge on the same level. The discovery in the works of the river's Latin name, Flussorius - an extremely evocative word that immediately became the title of the work - was the sign that inspired me to curate this project for an entire year, confronting myself with the cycle of seasons. Now that this experience is concluded I finally feel like I've reached that connection with my land which I have been chasing for a long time and I can't help but feel for this river great gratitude. It taught me to listen to my instincts, welcome the unexpected and treasure it. It thought me moreover that you don't need to travel far to live an adventure. Before starting this journey I never thought I would end up in my photographs. Something in me started to change in parallel with my relationship with photography which is also evolving. Now I like to rethink it from a material perspective, like the art of touching and transforming, a physical-magical space where the inner dimension can find a way of reflecting itself in the reality of the world. Restarting from the body and nature's simple truths can be a way to escape from the alienation that afflicts us. Walking barefoot in the stream.