About

I am a contemporary Sicilian artist based in Caltanissetta, where I live and work, although I am employed in a professional field other than art.

Although I’ve had a strong passion for art since childhood, due to life’s circumstances, I never received a formal academic art education. I have always admired those who were able to create something beautiful from nothing. At a certain point in my life, I decided to try it myself.

With curiosity and determination, in 2015 I began to deepen my knowledge of painting techniques in my free time. I learned to paint as a self-taught artist, and since 2018, I have been participating in exhibitions and competitions both nationally and internationally. In 2021, I started to take an interest in creating sculptures, fascinated by the three-dimensionality of objects.

My work is a self-taught pursuit, driven by the desire to narrate the human soul, fragility, and identity through the creative act. Through my job as a Social Service Officer at the Ministry of Justice, I have the opportunity to confront the depths of the human psyche daily, addressing the challenges and difficulties experienced by minors within the penal system I work with.

Their difficulties and vulnerabilities, their successes and failures, their fears and dreams ultimately belong to all of us. Through my paintings and sculptures, I seek to transform these experiences into a broader reflection on the complexity of the human condition.

Identity in Becoming 

My work stems from a reflection on identity, understood not as something fixed and immutable, but as a reality in constant transformation.

Through sculpture and painting— some of my works are painted with fire —I explore what happens to human beings through their continuous relationship with experience. There is a core within each of us that we recognize as our own, yet who we are never remains entirely unchanged. Encounters, relationships, emotions, loss, love, successes and failures pass through us and transform us. They do not define us permanently, but leave traces that become part of who we are.The body thus becomes one of the territories through which I seek to make this process visible.

In my artistic research, bodies appear, break off, dissolve and recompose themselves. Faces lose definition; some parts emerge while others remain suspended or disappear. What is missing is not necessarily an absence: it can be an open space, a possibility.

The recurring cracks in my paintings and sculptures belong to the same exploration. They do not simply represent a wound, nor do they tell the story of an intact body that breaks only to be repaired. They are traces of experience, points of passage, thresholds between who we were and who we might become.

Identity, however, does not manifest itself only through the body.

I am interested in what happens at the boundaries: between inside and outside, presence and absence, the visible and the invisible, the individual and what passes through them. For this reason, in some works, the surface itself ceases to be merely a support and becomes a boundary to be questioned. Forms and parts of the body emerge from the canvas, cross through it, and seem to escape the space to which they once belonged.

Emergence, interference, fracture and the crossing of boundaries thus become different ways of questioning the same condition: an identity continuously exposed to what comes from outside and, precisely for this reason, never definitively complete.

Painting and sculpture ultimately come together. The image can become matter; the surface can open, deform or invade real space. What normally remains hidden can emerge. The figurative dimension becomes a starting point from which to question the body, matter and the very boundaries of the artwork.

It is within this tension between construction and dissolution, inside and outside, permanence and change that my research develops.

I do not seek to give the human being a definitive form. What interests me instead is what happens while that form is changing: what remains, what emerges, what interferes, and what may still become part of us.

And perhaps it is precisely here that the work stops speaking only about the person I have portrayed and begins to concern the person looking at it. If something, as we look at it, holds our attention, unsettles us, or feels somehow ours without us immediately knowing why, then that distance has already begun to close. Because what we recognize in another is sometimes something that was already within us.