Radici

This work also originates from the patio of my great-grandmother’s house.
A place I carry within me with a special kind of tenderness. The patio was always clean, carefully washed, almost gleaming. But the plants… the plants were not her talent. They remained bare, fragile, as if it were a winter that never ended.

I remember those almost empty spaces, that feeling of a missing spring. The leaves did not burst into green, the flowers did not fill the air. It was a garden that could not bloom.

And yet, nothing was missing. Because her presence was enough. Her smile was enough. The scent of her ragù drifting from the kitchen was enough. It was enough just to know she was there.

The white shapes in the work resemble vegetal traces, almost like the imprints of leaves that never became lush. They do not represent absence, but memory. They are invisible roots: unseen on the surface, yet supporting everything.

Here, joy is not an explosion of color. It is human warmth. It is a home that exists because of the one who lives in it.

Even when spring did not arrive in the patio, it arrived through her.

“Radici” is this:
the awareness that true blooming is not always found in plants, but in people. And some presences continue to nourish you, even when they are no longer there.