Hang head is a book raised from the personal need to apologize to each stranger I took a picture during that period of my life I was obsessed with focusing on a face, stealing various instants and choosing the one able to tell a sort of narrative.

Hang head is a book I set up in 2014, when, by chance, I bumped into these hundreds of photos and I realized that each suggested narrative was a lie, because it was the result of an egoistic choice.  

In that moment, between all those facial expressions, I clearly saw that each person owned infinite moments and infinite narratives and I immediately understood that I could never had the possibility to enter one of them, because their lives were already existing, beyond my photographs, beyond my existence.

With a more detached and global sight about that collection of unknown faces, I noticed that almost all their gazes were full of shame, insecurity, sometimes even fear.

Hang head is, for that reason, a book came from the shame, but now it's a sort of reverse shame.
I feel ashamed, I look away and hang my head.

Hang head is a big squared book; its binding nearly achieves perfection, because when you want to apologize, you must go big, but I printed only a copy of it, because when you apologize from the bottom of your heart, there's no need for a second chance.