So, Hello… ⋆。°✩༘
Welcome to this ✧ fragile ecosystem ✧  where art, identity, and mild chaos coexist.

About me, I did a thing.

I became a socially engaged artist.
Yeah, I know…sounds like I wear a lot of linen, go around quoting Foucault at dinner parties and speak only in grant proposal language

(I don’t… always ;)

I studied Visual Arts at NABA in Milan for my bachelor (because where else to start questioning the society than in the capital of fashion? Right), led by Marcello Maloberti (we all call him MALOX, obviously), with a spicy minor in Video Art under the strange and wonderful guidance of Yuri Ancarani and Simone Rovellini.♡。⋆

Then I went full painter mode MA at LUCA School of Arts in Ghent Belgium  (hello, existential crisis), and eventually wrapped myself in a master’s in Fine Art and Design in Interrelational Art Practices at Hanze in Groningen — a program rooted in dialogue, collaboration, and the belief that art can be a shared, inclusive process with real impact. 

It taught me to engage deeply with communities, to question structures, and to explore what art can become when it’s built with others, not just for them. It shaped how I work: not as an isolated creator, but as a kind of catalyst — someone who sparks connections, holds space for others, and helps make visible what often goes unseen.

(Okay not always, but it’s the ✧ vibe ✧.)

Group Material remains one of my guiding stars (messy, political, inclusive, collective — everything a conservative art teacher might warn u about). Their project Arroz con Mango — “What a mess” — lives rent-free in my soul and might also be the working title of my internal monologue. 

꒰｡•ᴗ•。꒱✿

I believe art can shift things: communities, narratives, even the occasional gentrified post-industrial “uglyfied” wasteland. ✧ : ·ﾟ


To people like me whose very existence is,     for “some” in power (we all know who), still somehow an “activist position” or questionable, that shift is not optional. It’s necessary!!!
And by “some,” I obviously mean the ones drafting policies to radicalize humans for existing outside the prescribed flesh and binary they recognize. ✶･ﾟ✧: ･ﾟ

Hello from the margins: we brought ✧ snacks and soft resilience ✧.

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Identity-wise, I am a ✶ shapeshifting buffet ✶ or better I like to say 150%:
Italian? Kind of. Was born and raised as Italian for 9861,75 days but my current prime minister might disagree.
Südtirolerin? Apparently.I ♡ Darhoam

French? peut-être. Je porte le poids des traumatismes générationnels. Mon grand-père était un ancien combattant.
Second-generation migrant? Definitely, but I never “migrated”.

Native North African (Amazigh)? Yes — biologically and culturally linked to a 3000-year-old civilization (no big deal).
Otaku? Let’s not talk about my anime MyAnimeList. My favourite is FMA (I have good taste :)

and occasionally 150% confused. I navigate multiple identities at once: cultural, regional, generational, fictional — and my work reflects that layered, shifting mess.

I reinvent myself constantly, not just as a method,    but as a symptom of a life lived in-between.

Reinvention isn’t a choice, it’s the baseline.

A part of my work touches on my roots, the Shilha Amazigh people (not amazing, but we are close — and no, not "Berbers," which comes from barbarus, and we’re not subscribing to that colonial naming energy… thanks but no thanks).
Because yes, ✧ heritage matters ✧.


And yes, I do occasionally cry over family stories while editing video footage or working on my identity projects. This is the process. This is the art. Check out my work IMMA. (T.T) ✧.

I currently make videos, installations, community-based projects — sometimes all at once, sometimes not at all.

But I spent most of my childhood drawing, painting, engraving on linoleum and wood, sculpting in whatever material I could get my hands on. I made costumes and sets for musicals, wrote theatre scripts that ended up on festival stages, and once even tried live VJing with dioramas at an art event (it was… experimental) with artist Adri Schokker ♡✨ .

Also: I like toys. And games. And video games.
Playfulness has always been part of how I see the world — and how I make art. I often gamify the topics I work on, not as a way to trivialize them, but because you will never catch me aiming to traumatize my viewers.

As Susan Best writes, “a reparative motive seeks pleasure rather than the avoidance of shame, but it also signals the capacity to assimilate the consequences of destruction and violence.”
That sentence has stayed with me. Because that’s the space I try to create: one where complexity doesn’t require despair to be valid — where play, care, and critique can co-exist.

At some point, I became the photographer for a local football kids team, designed posters, collaborated with children (including kids with disabilities), and worked on public art proposals for open calls — one of them was for a fountain.

I’ve made videos for festivals and non-festivals, performances, street art, I even tried graffiti (let’s call it a phase), conceptual pieces like designing a board game (inspo Olivia Hernaïz, she is a great artist), and even interview-based works that turned into alternative artist book.

That last one was actually my thesis — and fun fact: someone stole a piece of it during the graduation show. I like to believe it wasn’t on purpose, just ✧ conceptually borrowed ✧.

In 2024, I was part of a big ✧ EU-funded ✧ project in Frankfurt dealing with (you guessed it) ✨gentrification✨.

It involved artists, social workers, a few residents or two, and definitely online meetings and emails. We all came together in a beautifully disorganized ecosystem of care, research, and awkward coffee breaks. ⋆。°

Oh, and there was Flashcards — a collaborative project chaotic, brilliant with Andrea Hosberg and Ilona Sarkko, that toured Berlin and Bolzano, funded by a modest Kickstarter campaign and ✶ unyielding ambition (€3,900, which somehow did everything and also nothing as we spent even more money :).

I even leaned into my inner engineer once: building a hydro-electrical artwork (a bubble machine) entirely from waste materials. It had parts from an old breadmaker, a CD, BBQ sticks, and other hoarded objects that really shouldn’t have worked together — but somehow did. It bubbled, it hummed…because why not..That, too, was art. ⋆。°✩༘

Ooh — and I make YouTube videos. ⋆。°✩༘

You should check them out!!! :)

The channel is still a baby — newborn, even, in YouTube years — but it’s growing. Slowly. Weirdly. Joyfully.
It’s fun. It’s strange. It’s a place where I speak to a different audience, in a different voice, about different things.
It’s my ✧ quiet rebellion ✧: ･ﾟ against the people who say art is too niche, too useless, too elitist, too far from “real life,” too institutionally embedded, too abstract, too fake, too whatever….
— Yes. You’re right. And also: no!!!

These videos are part of my practice. They are art, just in lo-fi disguise.
They’re born from stories — sometimes deeply personal, sometimes steeped in          ✷internet realness✷, sometimes just a messy collaboration between me and the world (and discord friends).

Think of them as small windows (even if you have iOS or Linux), cracked open where the institution has brick walls. Something like Jan Hakon Erichsen with fewer knives and pasta, but the same chaotic sincerity.

At the end of the day, I was born Gen Z — a digital native. This is just one more way I speak the language I was raised in.

Anyway, I make things.
With people. About people.
Sometimes for people.
Sometimes in spite of people.
It’s complicated. But it’s also art.
And honestly, I wouldn’t have it any other way.
✶·ﾟ✧·ﾟ: eternal WIP :·ﾟ✧:·ﾟ