I live in Italy in the ancient city of Magna Graecia. I’m 52 years old, and a visual artist. I drew only in black and white for 13 years or so. I love the black Indian ink, and its thousands and thousands of shades. They are like the many shades of the soul. I love the strong contrasts, and the suffered destructive annihilating emotions; the black Indian ink represents them perfectly.
The color was a natural necessity. It’s sudden and unexpected. I like to experiment. I like to recreate, to remake myself, and to experience myself in new ways. I like to use and to create with new materials. I like to draw, to paint, to photograph my collages, to decontextualize, to overlap them, and compose them with foreign realities. I try to know – to know myself with the photography. I expand myself in my eye and my eye in the photographic lens. I confuse, and I melt the photographic lens and my eye with my collages.
I hate and I love Calabria, but I’m very Calabrian too. I love my land, its sea, and its mountains. It’s so sweet, so harsh, so wild, so closed in themselves, and so wide. I feel myself – so I am. It’s a land so full of contrasts; its huge and unresolved contrasts. I love the knots of the soul – of my soul, and all the souls.
I love fashion, underground comics, and my beloved books. I love Sara Vaughan and Patty Waters, Aurobindo and The Mother, Joni Mitchell and Nina Simone, Virgina Woolf and Cesare Pavese, Khrisnamurti and the Clash.
I was never free. I feel free when I create – completely in my magical artistic daily trance.