Surreal Su

Little drop from last week ✨

Before creativity takes form, there’s always a quiet phase in my practice, a moment to explore, dig deeper, and gently reconnect with the most authentic parts of ourselves.
That’s what I wanted to share today, the moments where you held space for each other and opened up.

During the last Wonder Dolls Lab, the Dolls Clinic was used so much. Seeing you return to it again and again, helping your dolls, and somehow yourselves too, felt really powerful.
So happy that through play, you rediscovered the superpower of animism!

I’m always fascinated by the energy of these workshops, the way the room falls into a deep collective silence while everyone is immersed in their own inner world, and then slowly opens back up into laughter, stories, and shared creations.

Thanks to and for the amazing opportunity
for the beautiful creative spacebelmonte for the support and the super photos

I spent the day at the park giving life to these new amulets. There’s a quiet magic in stitching under the trees and the sun ☀️ it’s where my wildest ideas start to breathe before I bring them into our workshop circle.

I feel a beautiful energy for what’s unfolding. I’m dreaming up new shapes and rituals, and I honestly can’t wait to share this next chapter with you. Something special is brewing! ✨

A huge, heartfelt thank you to the amazing .belmonte 📸 You didn’t just take photos; you caught the light and the way I truly feel when I create. You’re a wizard!

Close-ups of a medieval bard that appeared out of nowhere.

No plans, just letting the materials speak. He has a voice when he moves, and I bet his slippers are incredibly comfortable. It surprised me to see him! 👀

This is the heart of tomorrow’s ritual: digging through waste until, through a buried animism, we give form to a spirit.

See you at x Let’s see what we can pull out of our Material Pool ✨

There’s an image that stubbornly returns to my hands: two bodies holding each other, two totems shielding one another. As I fill their empty spaces, I realize I’m shaping a bond from my own roots: those puppets are my sister and I.

She was my first partner in resistance. Growing up, I learned that care is a weapon. In my work, being sisters and brothers is not a biological fact, but a political act: creatures born from waste who refuse isolation, choosing to occupy space with an embrace.

To create siblings — by blood, by rag, or by soul — is to rebel against the idea that we must mend our identities alone. These totems are living monuments to collective care: as long as there is an embrace, waste is no longer scrap, it becomes a force that pulses and resists.

ITA 🇮🇹
C’è un’immagine che torna ostinatamente tra le mie mani: due corpi che si stringono, due totem che si fanno scudo. Mentre riempio i loro vuoti, do forma a un legame che è nelle mie radici: quei pupazzi siamo io e mia sorella.

Lei è stata la mia prima compagna di resistenza. Insieme ho capito che la cura è un’arma. Nei miei lavori, essere sorelle e fratelli è un atto politico: creature nate dallo scarto che rifiutano l’isolamento e scelgono di occupare lo spazio con un abbraccio.

Creare fratelli e sorelle — di sangue, di pezza o d’anima — significa ribellarsi all’idea di dover rammendare la propria identità da soli. Questi totem sono monumenti alla cura collettiva: finché c’è un abbraccio, lo scarto smette di essere un rifiuto e diventa una forza che pulsa e resiste.

📸 Pic 1-3-6 .belmonte
🧒🏻 Sister in crime

I always feel that weight.
Like a “Pagghiara” in Salento,
it sinks deep and wears you down under the storms.
Yet there’s that ever-present longing to return to the source,
to merge completely with the sea.

I’m stone and water, water and stone.

📸 .belmonte

“Heart”
from the series s’è fatto nero ed ho usato il colore
#1

Paper, elastics from an old family mattress cover, cut and sewn together by hand.

I grew up with that mattress cover.
Those elastics held the place where bodies rested, got sick, argued, slept, survived.

I cut them.
I stitched them back together.

This is the first work in which I removed color completely.
Everything turned black.
Only the core remained white.

I made it while trying to stay stable.
While trying not to collapse inward.

The tension you see is not metaphorical.
It is how my chest has felt for months,
and how it continues to feel from time to time.

The body tightens.
The body holds.

Pressure is a threshold.
Some days I step out of it.
Some days I fall back in.
And each time, something shifts.

Thanks to .belmonte for the amazing photos

Before leaving my homeland, I embarked on the journey of Sorgiva and created The Playroom.
These are the works I consider most important, and I carry pieces of them within me.

Through them, I reconnected with the two-year-old me— before discipline, before trauma, before breaking myself apart.
I returned to that primordial self, to instinct.

Art became the way I live fully in the world: a language capable of holding care, tenderness, and struggle all at once. Everything I create is never only mine, it is offered to the bodies and communities that meet it.

And after all, everything I do, I do for her.

1 pic .belmonte

Three months in Vienna.
They passed quietly, and all at once.

I disappeared from here because I was learning how to be present elsewhere.

I let the city happen to me —
its streets, its pauses, its beauty.
And then I found my way into its contemporary art scene:
vivid and restless.

I left my job behind.
The one I carried from Italy.
After six years of making art,
I chose to let it become my first language.

These months were for listening, thinking, searching.
2026 will be for making 🌘

Details that caught my eye these past weeks

My very first langos ever — and the exact moment I realized it was amazing, captured by .belmonte

Langos is a Hungarian deep-fried flatbread. I took the one topped with garlic, sour cream and cheese 🎄
Have you ever tried that?