«I find him in front of me after the third phone call. He is tall, big and with glasses. Sitting on the couch in my house he looks small because he stands as if huddled in on himself. He is embarrassed, his throat is dry, and shyness makes his cheeks flush.
“So what do I do?” he asks. He has been a photographer for five years, graduated from something, started as an amateur photographer and tried to be a professional. He has tried and tried again. He has gone around to newsrooms, worked for agencies, sent photos left and right. Now, after a series of failures, disappointments, bitter mortifications and financial sacrifices, there he stands in front of me asking my advice: “What do I do?”
“Leave, go away. If you really want to do this job, go to another country.” I can’t tell him anything else. And I get an anguish in my throat because I can’t tell him anything else. He is standing there, tall and big and thanking me for the advice. Maybe he has already left and maybe he hasn’t.
So the inquiry is born, to know what are the difficulties to be faced, the price to be paid, the roads to be taken».
Calogero Cascio