Respiro

“Respiro” is the sea of my childhood.

It is not a precise memory with a date or time. It is a sensation that has always accompanied me. It is that blue that entered my eyes and remained inside even after I returned home. It is the sound of water becoming the rhythm of the body.

As a child, the sea was infinite. It had no borders. It had no responsibilities. It was pure space. In front of it, time slowed down, worries did not yet exist, and simply looking at the horizon made you feel light.

In this painting I searched for that lightness.

The soft blue expands without constraint, like the calm surface of water. There is no storm, no drama. Only continuity. Only breath.

It is the simple joy of being there — feet in the sand, salt air on the skin, the heart beating in rhythm with the waves.

The sea of my childhood taught me something essential: joy can be quiet. It does not always need intensity. It can be a state, a constant presence.

“Respiro” is that inner place I can return to whenever I need it.
It is memory that does not weigh, but sustains.
It is calm that does not fade.

It is the sea within me.