INDUSTRIAL

I was born near the Amalfi Coast, in a small provincial town. My childhood was split between my mother’s beauty salon and my grandparents’ home. Just down the road stood an abandoned three-story house—unfinished, raw, and filled with concrete, wood, and iron. My curiosity pulled me inside, and over time, it became my secret refuge. I danced, created, and dreamed—imagining a future shaped by art, fashion, and creativity.

Though my grandparents feared the dangers inside—sharp wires, rusty metal—I kept going back. That early courage defined me. What began as fear transformed into a sanctuary of freedom and expression. 

Industry I captures the building’s material memory—concrete and metal—rendered on canvas. In the upper right, a black-and-white moon evokes the setting sun, signaling the end of playtime as my grandmother’s voice would echo, calling me home before dark.

Industry II moves beyond those dull tones. It rejects the neutral colors of my childhood surroundings—the faded clothes, the strict rules—and bursts instead with colorful, liberating scribbles. Only a small corner remains muted, a nod to what once was. At the bottom right, two pieces of copper-colored metal recall the sharp, rusted remnants that both frightened and fascinated me. That rusty orange, etched into my memory, now shimmers in precious copper acrylic.

Across both works, my signature appears again and again, like a child claiming their name —marking space, boldly and unapologetically.