A slower rhythm, shaped by light, texture, and everyday gestures.
The same attention guides our photography and film work beyond travel.

The Mediterranean Rhythm

There is a kind of silence in Tuscany and Istria that doesn’t exist anywhere else. Not the awkward silence of elevators or the distant hum of cities trying to fall asleep. No, this is a warm, olive-oil-scented, lemon-tree kind of silence. The kind where even the wind seems to respect the rhythm of life. The Mediterranean rhythm. This is our mediterranean story as photographer’s couple.

Morning, Left Unfinished

Light entering the room before the day starts.

Between Stone and Silence

A small street where nothing asks for attention.

A Surf Trip Gone Right

We fell in love with it the first time we tried to surf. Yes, you read that right. It was one of our early trips to Tuscany. Young, hopeful, a bit too enthusiastic. We packed the car with camera gear, snacks, and a pair of bodyboards. Daniel had this idea that the coast of Tuscany, specifically a town named Forte dei Marmi would gift us perfect waves and cinematic sunshine. Spoiler: there were no “perfect” waves but only a few medium size at best. So we laughed, got sunburned, ate way too much focaccia, and accidentally stumbled upon the real joy of this place.

We came for the waves. We stayed longer than planned.

– Daniel & Maruša

What This Story Explores:

• From Movement to Pause
• Living With the Light
• What the Mediterranean teaches about working with natural light rather than chasing it.
• Slower Days, Fewer Frames
• Why doing less often leads to stronger photographs and a quieter life.
• Places That Change the Rhythm
• Small towns, coastlines, and interiors that invite observation instead of urgency.
• Creating Without Rush
• How slowing down reshaped not just our work, but the way we live and notice.

Stillness Over Surf

This started somehow with the feeling of seeking adventure but turned out to be a lot about the stillness in Tuscany (and good cheese). Since then, we’ve returned again and again. To both Tuscany and Istria. Not for the waves (we’ve given up that fantasy), but for something far richer: a way of living that feels sane.

Life at the Pace of the Sun

In Istrian villages, life moves to the pace of the sun. People drink coffee in abundance. No paper cups. No rushing. Just small glasses, loud conversations, and always time to look someone in the eye. There’s a quiet dignity in their simplicity. A sense that no one is trying to impress anyone. That kind of confidence is contagious.

Everyday Poetry Through a Lens

Much of our commissioned work now grows out of moments like these. Unplanned, unstyled, shaped by light, place, and patience.

As professional photographers and filmmakers, we’ve learned to appreciate the small scenes. The linen curtains dancing in the breeze. The shadow of a lemon tree on a cracked stone wall. The way olive branches catch the light before sunset. We don’t need elaborate setups or artificial backdrops there. The Mediterranean does the work for us. It’s an artist in its own right.

Moments That Matter

Our cameras are drawn to everyday poetry: a worn wooden table set with anchovies, olives, and sparkling water (or white wine for the wine lovers). A grandmother shelling beans on a porch. Two old men arguing about nothing in particular, in dialects that sound like song. These are the things that ask to be remembered. That make us press the shutter.

Living the Aesthetic

This lifestyle isn’t a performance. It’s not curated for social media or sold through wellness influencers. It simply is. And it’s inspired us deeply. So much so that we’re now working on bringing that Mediterranean mindset home.

Bringing It Home

Not just in our photography and film work, though that too is shifting. Our visuals have become slower, more intentional. We’ve learned to love imperfection: the flicker of candlelight, the stain of espresso on linen, the golden blur of a moving hand. But more importantly, we want to live it. Daily. We’re infusing our home with that same aesthetic: textured walls, natural wood, soft textiles, shelves filled with simple ceramics. Our meals are changing too: more olive oil, more grilled vegetables, less stress. Lunch is no longer a rushed fuel stop but a little celebration. We sit. We talk. Sometimes we just laugh. And yeah, sometimes we also argue, italian style, comes and goes quick. Sometimes we say nothing at all. It’s all part of it.

On the Shelf

Olive oil, tin, and a room that smells like time.

The Shop That Stayed

Paper on the walls, patience in the air.

Bottling the Mediterranean

And then there’s the perfume. The Mediterranean doesn’t smell like your average perfume ad. It smells of salt, fig leaves, citrus peel, old books, clean shirts hung in the sun. Bottled memory, really. Wearing them is like carrying a piece of a moment. A sensory souvenir.

Catching the Right Wave

So no, we never did catch those idyllic waves. But we caught something else. Something better. A slower, simpler way to be alive. One filled with good smells, warm light, wild herbs, and imperfect beauty.