giovedì 23 gennaio 2014

to print or not to print...

Yes, it's my answer at the moment... I did a post few months ago, about ''quick art''.. you know, this american way to paint a one-day-canvas and sell it for few dollars... wow... shit!  I thought.. I was and I am full of nice values and principles about hand made - slow making - still thinking products... art and craft ... unique pieces ... but which is the prize for all these long made layers and long pauses and walks and research for that oil blu and.. I love the smell and the texture of a real canvas... I love alpaca, bio dynamic flour, hand made wood secretaire impero, music in a concert... BUT if for instance my four kids and one (half) salary don't allow me to reach them, then thank you Zara and Jumbo and Ikea and You tube to make it possible in a nice way. Then maybe I can print or linocut images and memories from my canvas, maybe..

''dondolami o luna in ciel''

Olio e china su carta, 12x21

No more?

Olio acrilico e china su carta, 

martedì 21 gennaio 2014

Balliamo sul mondooo...

It rains. I'm 40 since the 18th of april. At the Academie they tell me I have to be quick: no layers, don't wait, don't think, just quick quick quick: if you do a mistake, let's go on, it's nice to see where you changed your mind. So: now you know them, DESTROY THE RULES!!! At 40.... sure?

Fine. in the meantime, I go back, quick quick quick to my silly soul:)))
let's dance.

mercoledì 15 gennaio 2014


Once upon a time my grandfather had been a doctor, and he loved to tell me about how was it before. He often had to reach hamlets and isolated houses in the countryside of Abruzzo to take care of the son of a farmer, or give birth to a baby. Sometimes there was too much snow to drive and the farmer went to take him with a donkey. My grandfather told me of that life in the camps as a pure fable, and he regretted the havoc that the innovations made in such harmony. I knew that was not exactly like that, but I undestood his pain when he took me to visit old patiens, and we saw the last straw stacks, the fresh concrete in the yard in front of houses defaced.

La luna e il pagliaio
Oil on canvas, ink