The Universe is amazing and I am in awe

On Synchronicities as old as mountains.

From York to The Bhagavad Gita via Brian Eno

In a previous post, I wrote about stripping myself bare of all other identities and labelling: no more wife, daughter, girlfriend, student..

It took me 20 years from Vernasso to Damascus.

I have been interviewed by Dave Cornthwaite on his Self Propelled podcast and here it is! https://anchor.fm/selfpropelled/embed/episodes/Why-Happiness-is-Just-a-Mood-ec80ou/a-a1qstdq Here is the link: HERE Thank you for listening! #mood #virginiawoolf #daveconrthwaite #happiness #podcast #jamesjoyce #coronavirus #vedanta #meditation #silence #yestribe #covid19 #theory #cats #earthquake #friuli

The HB on the paper, with those wide lines in faint black and red. I can see my hand: my very first act of creation. My statement.

She sounded mature, grave, depressed, heavy, damned, charismatic, beautiful, fascinating, alluring, very enigmatic. All the things I wasn't.

Working on a piece which is all about legacy and memory, I explored some other remembrance pieces, such as The National September 11 Memorial, the Tsunami Memorial Park in Ban Namkem and the Sacrario di Redipuglia. The National September 11 Memorial This memorial commemorates the September 2011 attacks when 2977 people lost their lives. It was designed by Israeli architect Michael Arad who created a forest of swamp white oak trees with two square reflecting pools in the centr

I set off with 5 of my pieces in plaster and went there. I chose the pieces carefully and I went there. I made sure that my camera was fully charged, the laptop ready, the sun hidden behind some clouds, that I had all possible needed connections, cables, phones, wifi. That the coffee was warm, that I had some food with me; and I went there. I went there. It’s incredible how the mind plays tricks on you: I cannot remember things I did or places I was in the company of some peo

On 26.02.2019, in Blackburn, I have started creating the 111 pieces which represent the 1013 victims of varying ages deceased during the earthquake. The pieces will be cast in plaster out of jars, pots, bottles, or containers used to conserve food or any other perishable material. Today, on a very warm winter day, I began. I didn’t cry. I felt observed and hence tense. I felt examined, scrutinised, checked. I just wanted to be ignored. Funny, though, I was alone. Just me and

Sit there, and I will tell you a story. A story of a little girl in a very large house. A little girl surrounded by this: When I jokingly say that my style is pre-Ikea, I don’t lie. I am a pre-Ikeanist, and very proudly so. Those above are the objects that we had, or the academic side of the family had, or the architects and designers and artists of the family mentioned and handled and had. Friends of the family were Giorgio Celiberti, Luciano Ceschia, Gino Valle, and Gianni

… take me to Church. I have discussed the piece I want to create, in honour of my friend Marina Pedi who died that night in 1976 and hence, to honour everyone who passed away. I want to create a Church, using the plaster pieces I made, adding also some metal, wood, and the melted glass in order to create a balance within the elements. (bear with me, now, because I am brainstorming while writing) I also want to honour all the 978 victims, creating some 98 pieces of “something”

3D Mon Amour… Again, what an experience! This time I worked more with plaster and a series of bottles and containers. I skipped altogether the exercise with clay, and dived heart first and hands second, into plaster. My mind was racing: can I colour / die plaster? What would happen if… why don’t I try… I have filled three little jars I had at home, and then found a lot of pleasure in control smashing them, in order to save the glass pieces and met them in the kiln (!). Then,

I was still playing with the idea of the map (other post, here) so I just sat and thought, and then I stopped thinking. and then, in the end, I played with the colours as in yesterday session, and this happened: And I really like these very simple maps: of where I lived (Friuli) and where I live now, my street in Blackburn, with the blue of the canal, and the white of the front of the pub. I also did this, which to me means a lot: A very quick sketch to remind me of the earth

I was watching a documentary on Christo (and Jeanne-Claude) on the BBC the other evening exploring his new installation, the Mastaba, in London (more here). Not only… But I am also in awe of Marina Abramović (here) and I was wondering if I like those two artists because they come from a land very close to mine; because they are “borderline”. They are people who live and breathe borders and boundaries, in multiple shapes and forms. One is Serbian, the other one is Bulgarian. T