Red Memory Two - The soldiers - Limited Edition 1 of 25 Photograph

Have you ever met Sheldon Cooper from The Big Bang Theory? Picture that laser-focused passion, that unique way of seeing the world—now replace physics with art, and you’ll start to get a sense of me. I’m an Italian artist living in Rome, on a never-ending quest to translate the fluid, shifting reality I perceive. To me, reality isn’t solid. It moves. It slips between perspectives like light through a prism. I share my home with my amazing girlfriend, four dogs, and three cats—my daily anchors in a world that often spins too fast. A few years ago, I was diagnosed with Asperger’s Syndrome. That moment didn’t label me—it unlocked me. It gave me a map to understand the chaos I’ve always felt, and since then, my art has become my compass. I work across multiple mediums—painting, photography, sculpture. I’ve even built my own photographic lenses, handcrafted to distort and clarify, much like my own way of seeing: sharp in places, blurred in others, always honest. Some of my photographs have been sold as far as Australia. I now have over 70 works on Saatchi Art, reaching collectors around the world. But this isn’t about numbers— It’s about telling the truth, the way only an outsider can. 🐾 The Blue Cat In my work, you’ll often meet the Blue Cat. It’s not a pet. It’s a symbol. A companion. A mirror of how I experience autism. With eyes shaped like infinity and long, searching whiskers, the Blue Cat explores reality the way I do—restlessly, intuitively, constantly questioning what’s real. Those whiskers are perception. They stretch into the void, trying to touch meaning. The cat is both creature and compass. A little broken. A little magic. I don’t just make art. I build tools to see the world differently. Sometimes that means a sculpture made of cracked plastic and chaotic wires. Sometimes it’s a photo shot through a lens I assembled myself. Always, it’s an attempt to make visible what I feel inside. My art is my language. It’s how I speak without speaking. It’s my contribution to a broader understanding of autism—not as a deficit, but as a different kind of beauty. A system of perception. A way to glow from the fracture. As Lucio Freni, I work with photography and optical experimentation. As ThaBlueCat, I give form to my neurodivergent experience through sculpture, dripping, and symbolic light. Two languages. One mind.