A sol levante that never sleeps, at home in the belly of the tranquil volcano that breathes its very existence. Each brush stroke is a warm flow of reds, continuous and sustained.

There's what I give to the world and there's what the world gives me. Make it even.

I find solace in gondole di rame

In ZAMPILLI (sono madre), tenderness is born from the weaving of whites, transforming into sinuous perspectives that speak of love. Gold and silver curves laugh on the skin of a dancing aurora.

In one eternal golden hour, spring and summer become one among grappoli di glicine, silver olive trees, and the waves of marine zest caressing the fragrant wheat.

Pastelli soffusi e vibrazioni accese si abbracciano in consistenze leggere.