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Morning at the Botanical Gardens

I got out of the underground and that eerie feeling hit me just slightly hard. It is becoming all too familiar. There was some people in the streets, and the sun was shinning on a summery morning of January. The benefits of living by the Mediterranean. There aren’t really many seasons. It felt as a kind of fast-forward jump to some future. The time goes by bizarrely these days though. It is because of the lack of celebrations, sister says. It felt we were suddenly in spring months.

No traffic, that is what felt wrong. No bars either. And extremely nice weather.

Inside the botanical gardens. The trees, the plants, the cats, and the greenhouses. Ah! The greenhouses! One could just move in. Make a bed beside the bromeliads, or underneath the ferns, and have the soil scents rock you to sleep. No sign of a life outside those walls.

I sneakily picked some leaves that I am now intending to propagate. And also using them as models whilst I think of what the next steps are, if I ever figure that out.


Art, time, nature

The older I get, the more I realize how much growing up in a rural environment has had an impact into who I am. Not just as a human being, but as an artist, too (not that I can really separate those two intertwined sides of myself).

As a child, I was allowed to roam the streets (in which there was no asphalt, but stones, and a herd of sheep passing by daily, on their way to the countryside) and free to run to the nearby pine tree forests as I pleased.

I would play with the mud, the leaves and the flowers, the branches and the sand (who hasn’t done wet sand cakes?!)

It is not surprising that my favourite artist of all times is Giuseppe Penone, him being a reference to my own artistic practice many times throughout the years.

In his work he uses natural, alive materials as a metaphor of time. Both nature and time are not just an essential element of his art pieces, but play and active role, defining their physical qualities by inducing changes of their own, beyond the artist’s hand. Becoming the creator.

The tree will continue to grow, wrapping up the bronze hand attached to the tree

For a while I was really obsessed with his work, and created some sculptures myself trying to work with his same logic. Such as this chair:

The vegetal chair sculpture, buing built in the studio

This chair, not meant to be sat on, I built using branches, pine cones and other natural elements myself. Then placed it in a special place, leaving it there to decompose, transform, and disappear.