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View In My Room
Canvas
12 x 16 in ($140)
Black Canvas
White ($135)
56 Views
0
[disloxication | A state of intoxication caused by the dislocation of feelings] Cursed with the name of a butterfly in an eternal chrysalis state, I emerged from the ruins of laws and boundaries and freed myself from expectations. I draw from a place that is raw, neurotic, unapologetic, uncomfortable. My heroes are bruised, thorned, chained. Frozen in time by biases, judgment, and pre-assigned roles, they are wordless rebels seeking metamorphosis. They silently scream while tearing through layers of fibrous emotions and agony—in a balancing act between ephemeral liberation and the seducing pleasure of torment.Cursed with the name of a butterfly in an eternal chrysalis state, I emerged from the ruins of laws and boundaries and freed myself from expectations. I draw from a place that is raw, neurotic, unapologetic, uncomfortable. My heroes are bruised, thorned, chained. Frozen in time by biases, judgment, and pre-assigned roles, they are wordless rebels seeking metamorphosis. They silently scream while tearing through layers of fibrous emotions and agony—in a balancing act between ephemeral liberation and the seducing pleasure of torment.
Giclee on Canvas
12 W x 16 H x 1.25 D in
13.75 W x 17.75 H x 1.25 D in
White
Black Canvas
Yes
Ships in a Box
Typically 5-7 business days for domestic shipments, 10-14 business days for international shipments.
Ships in a box. Art prints are packaged and shipped by our printing partner.
Printing facility in California.
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United States
I’m from Italy, born and raised in the art-rich region of Veneto. My family has a strong artistic background, making it challenging to escape my destiny. As a kid, I tried to rebel against the creative path by closely observing the gas station owner across the street and dreaming of owning my very own (and very fancy) gas station. Eventually, I realized my calling wasn’t in the arts but in the fuel trade. After a few unsuccessful attempts to run away from home and some mischievous incidents involving securing the family jewelry in an undisclosed location, I decided, at the age of three, to paint our kitchen walls in a Kandinsky pre-war style. The move tested my mother’s patience and shaped my aesthetic sense, saving me from a life surrounded by gasoline fumes. Instead, I chose a path where inspiration and art would be my fuel. It was also then that I realized the power of storytelling—which, on that occasion, was paramount to get me out of trouble. I understood that good stories are worth telling, but great stories are worth repeating, and I would try to accomplish the last without words. What followed was a passion for connecting dots that others often miss. My inspiration comes from deep within, allowing emotions to flow without boundaries or fear of judgment. Getting there was a painful journey. Since art school, it took me about thirty years to have the courage to face myself and shape that with lines and colors. I am no longer afraid of my demons, and I have accepted they take turns with the sunny days—that’s just the reality of life. I am also not scared of exploring different styles and mediums—which is traditionally frowned upon. Often, I pass my days obsessively searching for beauty and harmony. Not beauty in the traditional sense of the word, but rather the beauty most “passersby” overlook, oblivious of the little details and their context, of the intoxicating power of what cannot follow aesthetic and social rules. This unexpected beauty is also part of my inspiration—living alongside the demons and the sunny days.
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