The only one they have

In time of exagerate number of photos and selfies, I had difficulty to find old pictures of memories in the small island of Boipeba, where I live since 2003: it is something rare and precious. From being photographer in Rome of actors and models, I passed to be part of a family which does not have images of the past. And I remember that, when I arrived here with my (analogic) camera, everybody asked me what that strange instrument was. During these photographic sessions, native people showed me their parents, sometimes showed me themselves, and sometimes, at the end, they didn´t show anything, like a "pentimento" for exhibiting too much and trying to save their memory. During these photographic sessions, they lived good or complicates memories. I lived a deep emotion that made my hands trembling, always. During these too short photographic sessions, they gave me words, tears, smiles, but no more than one memory in paper: the only one they have.