w e l c o m e  t o 

t h e  e v e r y w h e r e   n o w h e r e 

into the white lands - marco dadone -

December 11, 2020  •  Leave a Comment





I left with the blood of sprigtime dawns




and passed by the deception of summer



I cried with the last leaves 




and talked with the skeleton trees




I walked the line between seasons

like a cut in the skin




then with the first snow,


I entered the wood




my path cleared and my sight deeper





as the wihiteness came 





and slow flakes landed on my black hat.






I went on in my big boots

until I felt my nose no more




into things dissolving without a shadow





this meadow of cold air 


owns a blessed silence







I'm a jigsaw






parts of me are made by snow






the creacking of the branches


that robin with round eyes





are happiness





so my forest has changed






I'm with her


















All shots with SIGMA SD1 Merrill 

with SIGMA 135 mm Art,

SIGMA 28 mm Art,

SIGMA 24-105 Art

and SIGMA 8-16

in north west Italy.



 by marco dadone









the day we were stones - sigma fp - marco dadone

November 09, 2020  •  Leave a Comment






What kind of storm was that?


It came from the west after that summer without winds

First like thin hair on the sky




then like heavy clouds reflecting patterns on the sea




The waves become silver blades,

soon everything was mixed and we were caught inside.



It took away our eyes,


It took away our skin, our nails, 


our thoughts.





It took away ourselves.


And happened silently

on the night after the storm




Amongst that unnatural blue, 

unnatural things happened.


The shy turtle who uses to swim into the moonlight, 

was kept in by that night,

as a somehow different being



While the big sun on the following morning,

competed the game.


We were turned into stones.




First was the monk, who never used to sleep.




then all the people in the village square,

hit by a new sun, astonished.




and as the day turned in white and turquoise,

the curious childs were staring at that new life




the gentle damsel came out




and so did the guys on the boat



even the seals




and with them, without distictions,


the dumb of the village




 and the thin wise man




and, for last, the boy who was fishing on the rocks





But then,

after a very stange moonlit night




on the following dawn


the sky we used to know was back,

the green sea did return



Suddenly, as it came it went away,

we were stones no more.

And everyting was like before.



We, as after a nightmare,

had all back our skin, our nails, our eyes,

Our thoughts.




And stones returned to be just those pebbles we use to walk on 

between the earth and the waves,

we did forget everything.


We forget easily.






Except for the lovers.



You can still look at them, by the beach.



But that’s another story,

as they choose eternity.













- Sigma Ambassador Italy - 




and SIGMA 40 mm ART.

(and Sigma SDQH on the blue night photos,

with Sigma 28 mm Art)








shot in Liguria, Italy, autumn 2020.











to see the camera I used, click here:

SIGMA FP the smallest full frame camera by SIGMA



per SIGMA ITALIA m-trading, click here:

SIGMA ITALIA (m-trading)



me on facebook: 

marco dadone fb page






the wooden spider

September 06, 2020  •  Leave a Comment






























































































The wooden spider



shot with SIGMA dp3 Quattro,

the SIGMA fp and

expecially the bokeh master SIGMA 105 mm, f1.4 DG HSM Art




105mm f1.4 Art





LINK to the SIGMA 105 mm Art: 





CLICK HERE (Mtrading - Sigma Foto Italia - )




Van Gogh's garden

August 23, 2020  •  1 Comment



marco dadone - realized with SIGMA fp and 40 mm Art -


These dawns


  with the sun rays pervading the dark green of the olive trees

turning into gold the yellow blades

full of millions of white little snails,

were painted by a solitary man during his walks before the daylight






Between dried poppies

and strange creatures from the hotness of summer,


Vincent Van Gogh came here



at first hardly able to talk,

a heart full of sorrow and a soul full of visions,

stayed one year and slowly began,


to paint,

to unravel the essence of things

to see the unseen






He spent there 53 week from the 8th of May, 1889, and painted 150 works of art

which means:


every two or three days.




the emotions that take hold on me in the face of nature go as far as fainting,

and then the result is a fortnight during which I am incapable of working

(from a letter to Albert Aurier, 9 february 1890)



And at the end of his provencal time he would write to his sister:

I worked like a madman”.


Once he began again to paint

he couldn't stop anymore:

life, grief, pain, joy, was all in there.








It's coming there at the end of July

- as I did -


that You can feel the heart of Vincent Van Gogh beating

outside Saint Rémy de Provence,

where the fields begin in front of the peaks of the Alpilles.




That’s where Vincent is still walking


brush in one hand


canvas on this shoulders


swept on his forehead


infinity in his eyes




He worked so deeply that now,

being here,

everything seems real just and only to the extent that it reflects his paintings.


And it’s so strange to wait for the sun to appear through the trees…

You’d expect that it could come out just made of oil paint,

to place itself amongst the rapid brushstrokes of the trees and the sky.




I discovered that it's here that under the tears of a wind called mistral,

the leaves of the sycamore trees are shaken

in the absolute blue,

as in a dream




and the cicades sing endlessy

on the branches and stems

like a mantra from other dimensions





I discovered that it’s here that the sight turns more intimate



and slides through shapes and time:


 there’s a road

to follow

into the nowherelands of the golden fields,



where all paths bring elsewhere

and the unnaturally enhanced colors take men hostage

in their territories.


I went there.






and in the middle of the wheat field

I paced my easel

and tried to paint,

until the sun pervaded my senses,

my longtime friend the crow.



That was until I realize that this is the land where men become their paintings.


So, without a sound, I turned










It had been easy then,

as a blue and black bird

through the corridors of the sky

to begin again my search, 


first in the tiny streets of Saint-Remy, between sun and shadows




then into the old monastery of Saint Paul de Mausole and its asylum.

Well the main door was locked,

but crows know other ways.


I went inside from a tiny window

and stopped on the floor

where Vincent himself walked on while going out in the fields,

like an early morning thief,

to steal the eternity on a canvas




and in a vertigo fever,

searching for more shadow relief for my shining new feathers

I entered the little church.


I saw the chair there,

behind the corner

the single one submerged in yellow light

a little apart from the others

where Vincent used to pray,

and still does from time to time



Then  upstairs,

his room



I knew that to see beyond

is a strange gift

it can make a soul explode.





But as Provence in summer is something between a place and a vision,


use that chance,


try to find a little of those sparks and

dream, Your own way, always,

and more than ever, if Your heart bleeds.





One last thing:


take a stroll along the asylum,

towards the lavender little field and then

until You'll meet the half-dried sunflower,

which seems like it’s about to speak... he is,

and that is what he would tell You:



in every shade

behind the simple shapes

around a reflection

beside those shadows

whenever You see something more

that is Van Gogh’s garden”.









                                                                                                                                                                                                                 And, dont' shoot at the crows.












Shot in Saint Rémy de Provence, end of July 2020




SIGMA 40 mm f1.4 Art.


by marco dadone




what is the sea

March 24, 2020  •  Leave a Comment



what is the sea

I dont know 





a whisper from a God


a whisper from Godmarco dadone - sigma -

(Sigma dp0Q)




one lover for the wind 


(Sigma fp + Sigma 12-24 Art)





the other side of clouds 


the other side of the clouds marco dadone - sigma -

(Sigma sdQH + 12-24 Art)





the infinity after men 


the infinity on sight marco dadone - sigma -

(Sigma fp + Sigma 12-24 Art)






a balcony on blue


(Sigma fp + 12.24 Art)






a shelter for the sun


a shelter for the sun marco dadone - sigma -

(Sigma sdqH + Sigma 28 mm Art)






the gateway for outside


the gateway for outside marco dadone - sigma -

(Sigma sdqH + Sigma 12-24 Art)







one home for the moonshine


a home for the moon marco dadone - sigma -

(Sigma sdqH + Sigma 12-24 Art)







the story of a life 


(Sigma SD1 Merrill + Sigma 10-20 f3.5)







in the meaning of a day 


(Sigma sdqH + Sigma 28 mm Art)






 the jewels that he brings


a saucerful of jewels marco dadone - sigma -

(Sigma sdqH + Sigma 135 mm Art)






the mystic roam of waves 


the roaming of the waves marco dadone - sigma -

(Sigma fp + Sigma 12-24 Art)







a mirror for the sky


(Sigma fp + Sigma 28 mm Art)







a nest to fishermen


a nest to fishermenmarco dadone - sigma -

(Sigma dp0 Q)







the place of mysteries 


a place of mysteries marco dadone - sigma -

(Sigma dp0 Q)






a friend to loneliness 


a friend to a solitudemarco dadone - sigma -

(Sigma sdq H + Sigma 28 mm Art)







the intimacy of dusk

(Sigma fp + Sigma 12-24 Art)








the things when we were child


a simple thing when we were child marco dadone - sigma -

(Sigma dp0 Q)







one box of deepest dreams 


(Sigma sdqH + Sigma 28 mm Art)







an endless lullaby


(Sigma fp + Sigma 12-24 Art)







the place to free Your breath


(Sigma sdq H + Sigma 12-24 Art)







one hope cut in the dark 

(Sigma sd1 Merrill + Sigma 28 mm Art)








that island out of time


(Sigma dp0Q)







four friends brothers for life

(Sigma dp0Q)







saw something subtle there

it vanished beyond



(Sigma sdq H + Sigma 28 mm Art)





Don’t know what is the sea



will I learn 







(Sigma sd1 Merrill + Sigma 12-24 Art)









all photos by marco dadone


shot in Italy


with SIGMA cameras and lenses