"EGOCENTRIC" Painting

I was born in Rome in 1956—almost by chance. As my father was a diplomat, I spent the first twenty years of my life abroad, living in various countries across Europe, Africa, and the Middle East changing country every 3 years. These places have left an indelible mark on my soul and continue to serve as a source of inspiration. I created my first oil-on-canvas painting in Damascus, and I continued to paint for some years after returning to Italy. Aside from the excellent art teachers I had at the French schools I attended—who introduced me to various drawing and painting techniques—I am entirely self-taught. The first painting I ever parted with went to a guest of my parents; she was so enchanted by the piece that she offered to buy it. "One does not sell art for mere money," I replied. "Please, consider it a gift." For years, I continued to give my work away to friends, relatives, lovers, and acquaintances. Eventually, I stopped painting, save for the occasional piece. Then, about a decade later, I took up my brushes again in Belgium, where I spent five particularly productive years, enjoying a fair amount of success. I participated in various events and group exhibitions, as well as two solo shows. Many of the works I sold in Brussels—to Italians and foreigners alike—are now scattered across the globe. This was followed by another long artistic hiatus, brought on by the frantic pace of life. Now, however—convinced that I am better equipped than ever to convey emotions and sensations, and with my time finally at my disposal—I have returned to painting. I am exploring new techniques and feeling a renewed sense of purpose, and I have begun to part with all those paintings that aren't currently hanging on the walls of our home—and who knows, perhaps even those might eventually find a new place elsewhere. Or perhaps I’ll simply put them on display without offering them for sale—though, as an old sage once said, everything has its price; and I’d argue that every man has his price, too—except for those who, remaining true to the principles they’ve inherited, refuse to sell their soul to the devil. And, it must be said, the fact that someone is willing to pay to acquire one of your works does provide that extra bit of satisfaction. It serves as confirmation that the work is genuinely liked, rather than just being the subject of polite, empty pleasantries.