Værker

Every experience shapes roots that grow into new trees. I am depicted hanging from a thread, suspended between the darkness of hardship and the light of an unwritten future. Castello di Roncade, the root of my career, feeds an open book with its wine: it is my story, yet also a bridge to what’s next. The pages remind us that today’s science is a mere triviality in the shadow of tomorrow’s truth, pointing toward new chapters like Kattesundet. I dream of a “United States of Europe,” free and without nationalism. Like a hawk, I fly with cunning and vigilance—a solitary traveler who knows how to belong wherever the journey leads.

A diary traced on wood.
It all began in late 2023, while I was painting the cellar door black so I could write on it with chalk. Just for fun, I started using a marker to trace the names of the Italian cities where I had lived, and in that moment, something clicked. I was overwhelmed by a wave of passion—the same “jolt” that, in the past, had driven me to set off for Italy alone, without a set plan, guided only by the desire to immerse myself in new cultures and learn the language.
“Ten Years in Italy” became the visual chronicle of my journey from 2009 to 2019. On this door, I immortalized the places that hosted me, the names of the Prime Ministers from that decade, and the reflections that shaped my identity. Among them is the most important quote, written during my second year in Italy when my teacher Cecilia, in Reggello, asked me to work on literary texts:
“Life is a great wheel that turns and turns without stopping, and every time it returns to the starting point, a new revolutionary generation is born, convinced it is the first to oppose the system. This youthful ingenuity, which sometimes leads to nonsense, affected me too. Fortunately.”
These words followed me for years, and I felt their place was here. When I showed the work to my father, his surprise and happiness were immense. Sadly, he passed away shortly after, on February 22, 2024, leaving behind an unbearable pain. But the memory of his joy in front of this door was so powerful that I could no longer let go of my brushes.
From that moment, the marker stroke evolved into oil on canvas: painting became my way of expressing myself, the channel through which everything inside me flows out with every brushstroke. This door remains the beginning of it all: a tribute to my father and the first chapter of my artistic story.

There was something divine in Benedetta’s face, a light that no human hand could fully replicate. Working alongside her awakened my fondest memories of Sicily, forging a friendship rooted in curiosity and shared wanderlust.
The spark for this portrait came during a late-night conversation over a glass of wine, just as she was preparing to leave for Peru. In her reserved demeanor, where even the wood beneath her feet seems to turn into a keyboard guiding her path, vibrates the ancient, volcanic fire of Sicily. Meeting her was the greatest “blessing”: she was never just a subject, but the very inspiration behind every brushstroke.

Individual happiness is not measured by a robust economy or efficient services, however much they may ease our path. Happiness is a state of mind, and it is transient. I found it many times in Palermo. My first encounter with the ancient Mediterranean capital was unforgettable. My then-manager and friend, Antonio, forgot to pick me up at the airport. I took the last bus to the city center and wandered until I found a hotel. I was wonderfully alone in an unknown city, exactly how I like it: lonely, but not alone. I fell in love with its unique, chaotic soul instantly. This painting captures the view from a balcony in the Noce district, where I lived. I wanted to depict the decadent buildings of varying heights—a place where nothing is uniform and everyone built as they pleased. I can still hear the vibrant sounds of the neighborhood and feel that serenity of observing the world from above, solitary yet deeply connected.

This oil painting captures a threshold moment: a solitary traveler on a platform, suspended between the past and the future. Inspired by my arrival in Italy in 2009, it reflects that raw, liberating sense of insecurity that comes with a one-way ticket and a quest for happiness. Today, the scene symbolizes a new chapter: the strength found in solitude and the courage to let the unknown be the fuel for the journey ahead.
“Now I have decided to decide nothing, for the unknown shall be my fuel.”