Nòstos (Homecoming)

My journey home, to the landscapes of my youth – those places where I was once a heart full of blindness and anger – is a quest for reconciliation with the past. It’s a pilgrimage to the roots of my being, where imagination lights the path.

I grow up in a small village in the north of Italy. A place where time seemed to stand still.

My family worked the land and ran low-paid jobs while my few friends spent their time playing video games at the central bar. That was the best fun they could have hoped for.

I used to call my place “nowhereland”. An unknown place unworthy of any interest.

I left home when I was 18, leaving everything – and everyone - behind.

But the pandemic changed my plans, forcing me to go back to my village after so many years.

Somehow it was time to deal with the past.

I decided to spend my time wandering the countryside, the alleys, the old farms and the waterways, exploring faces and places I couldn’t remember anymore.

I told myself: "Find a way to make peace with the past. Remember it. Draw on that wealth of dreams, suggestions and sleepless emotions. Create a new balance between spaces and memories".

So, these are the memories I tried to forget for a long time.

These are the landscapes of my childhood, transformed by the magic of imagination.

A mosaic of dreams, thoughts and loved ones.

Sometimes time blurs their contours, shuffles the cards, and makes forgotten fears resurface.

The traces of the past, the ghosts that still linger in the shadows, but they are no longer menacing. They are simply a part of the story.

Now I'm aware that somewhere there was beauty and there was life.

And I was there. I was just too young and stubborn to be able to see them.