Florence: Gilded Halls

Carousel horses, crystal chandeliers, marble figures under fresco ceilings. Six interiors where everything is still but nothing rests. Florence, heavy and gilded, waiting for no one. This set came together across a couple of days walking through Florence — ducking into palazzos, wandering through museum halls, stopping in front of anything that caught the light right. The carousel was pure chance; it was sitting there on a polished wooden platform, colors saturated, completely still in a way that felt almost eerie. The sculptures were the opposite problem — too much beauty in every direction, so the challenge was finding the angle that isolated one moment from the noise. The starburst mirror on that crumbling stone wall was a favourite. It reflected the Palazzo Pitti through grime and age, which felt honest in a city that wraps decay in gold leaf. The woman with the baby — a framed print set into a rough alcove — stopped everything for a second. Florence does that. It throws something quiet at you between the grandeur. All color, all available light. The interiors ranged from bright diffused halls to dark alcoves where the exposure was a negotiation. Six frames from a city that offers a thousand — the edit was about restraint more than anything. Picking the images that said something beyond "look how beautiful" was the real work. "That starburst mirror was wild—reflecting the Palazzo Pitti through all the grime on the stone. And honestly, holding that baby just stopped everything for a moment."