There's no merit in taking a picture like that. That fragment of feminine face came out by accident, survived the tears, by many layers of posters. That face is just a picture of some painting, which I don't really know how to identify. Walk down the street and take the picture, because among the shreds of paper that face has found its center, its balance, and it seems that it has it with you, even if you can not see the eyes. There is no merit to get with a picture such a picture, after for years Mimmo Rotella has experienced the technique of tearing.
But an expression like this, a shot like this, won't last long on that board of the Lungotevere, the moment was to be caught, someone had to do it. This time it was me.