The circle is the central symbol of my research.
It represents life as a continuous process, perfect in its imperfections.
The unbroken thread indicates what remains open: hope, future, possibilities.
Through the circle, I explore time, change, and transformation.

I collect fallen branches in nature and wrap them with Alentejo wool, using knots and shades.

The gesture transforms the material: what appears inert becomes charged with new energy.

Each stick becomes a symbol of rebirth and transformation, carrying memory and possibilities.

Through art, I restore life to what seems to have lost it

Fragments of life observed closely, as if through a magnifying glass.

Minimal elements, created from waste materials, articulate in sequences of highs and lows.

Gesture and chromatic juxtaposition build rhythm and harmony, transforming discontinuity into balance.

A common center runs through each composition, maintaining tension in a shared form.

Rigid and defined elements articulate in space.

From their encounter, movement is born: structures that open, close, and transform.

Rigidity becomes flexibility, order becomes adaptation, in a continuous process.

I define spaces that seem empty, but are full, traversed by constantly evolving thoughts.

"What Remains" stems from the need to understand what truly endures.

It's like sifting life through a sieve.

In my daily life, I collect stones and small natural elements.

I clean them, observe them, choose them.

Stones have a particular weight and energy.

They become fixed points on my journey.

Tying them with cotton threads is an act of care:

an attempt to bring order to the chaos of the world and recognize what truly remains important.

In these watercolors, I practice staying within the lines.

Each form — line, square, rhombus — is defined by cotton threads that trace real boundaries in space.

The color moves within these limits, creating essential and decorative compositions.

It's my way of seeking order.

Of containing thoughts and imagination that often tend to overstep boundaries.

In these works, two forces coexist: freedom and discipline.

A duality that inhabits my work and with which I engage every day.

Water is my deepest inspiration: it merges with the sky, conveys emotions, and invites us to look at life from different perspectives. Through my photographs, I tell the story of this continuous flow.

Self-portraits created from photographs I take of myself.

My gaze appears enclosed in a bubble.

It's my way of being in the world:

a little suspended, a little absorbed.

Contexts change, circumstances transform,

but my gaze remains the same.

Attentive.

Reflective.

I observe Milan through puddles.

Architecture reflects and transforms itself.

The cobblestones, sidewalks, manholes, asphalt, leaves, or crumpled papers become elements of a new composition.

Everyday life dialogues with the city's history, creating unexpected balances.

A different perspective that reveals beauty even where we are no longer accustomed to looking for it.

Waste materials — cardboard, packaging, forgotten fragments — are woven together and covered with wool.

Matter changes its nature:

what was destined to be discarded becomes attention, care, heart, love.

It is a gesture of transformation.

A process of rebirth.

Through art, I seek beauty even where it seems not to exist, creating new opportunities for love.

Stones are milestones in my journey: carefully chosen, they carry a weight and an energy that I preserve in my works. Bound with wool or cotton threads, they become symbols of light and attention, as unique as every fragment of life.

I also create custom graphics to commemorate significant dates.
Letters and numbers become visual elements with which I build compositions of shapes and colors.

Each piece is born from the intersection of memory and design.

A way to transform an important moment into a harmonious image to cherish over time.

These works date back to around 2006.

They are born from layers of newspaper clippings, dailies and book pages.
Fragments of words and news overlap, creating a new surface of meaning.

On these traces I write messages that I wish to remain.

Thoughts that emerge from the noise of the world and seek a space to stay.

My quest is to find traces of beauty in everyday life – in the news as much as in daily living – even where it seems non-existent.

The heart is one of the first signs of this work.

I don't paint it: I cut it out of fabric and apply it to simple, raw materials, like jute.

Next to the heart, I insert fragments of phrases collected from newspapers.

Words born in the noise of the world that, when placed next to the heart, change their meaning.

The chick is an image that has always accompanied me.

It takes me back to my childhood, to what I had on the terrace as a child, but also to "Le Tintallegre", the project I shared for fifteen years with my friend Valentina, among painted objects, ideas and experiments.

Small, naive, curious.

With a whole life ahead.

For me, the chick is the symbol of the most authentic part of each of us: the one that continues to look at the world with wonder.