Balance, silence, and material expression

Between the sea and the Karst, a silent voice takes shape. In this border space, the wood of the cirmolo becomes my bridge.

With its balsamic scent and the warmth of its grain, it speaks of heights that breathe slowly, of forests that hold silences, of a nature that does not shout, but teaches.

The cirmolo accompanies me as a living presence. I touch it, I listen to it, I let it speak.

In its fibers, I find the strength of places shaped by the wind and the delicacy of waves breaking quietly.

Each of my works is born from this unstable balance: an inner movement that unites the depth of water and the lightness of mountain breath, the echo of landscapes that do not ask to be understood, but felt.