Since I was a little kid, I’ve always been a storyteller. My imagination felt like a hidden treasure chest, full of colors, characters, and worlds only I could see. When I shared my stories, I noticed something beautiful: people felt good. They smiled, relaxed, and drifted with me into those little worlds. Deep inside, I believed I was born to do exactly that, make people feel better through what I create.
But as I grew up, life pulled me in many directions. Responsibilities, work, expectations, all the things that slowly steal time from daydreaming. My daughter Stas, when she was only two or three, once looked at me and said: “Papà, the only door you can open to talk to the angels is through your imagination. You’re a grown-up and you lost your imagination, that’s why you can’t talk to the angels.”
Her words went straight to my heart. I knew she was right. Somewhere along the way, I had started to lose that connection with my imagination. I didn’t fight it; in fact, I probably ran from it. Maybe I was not happy with who I had become and listening to her meant facing that part of me I had abandoned.
For years, I worked in advertising, using my creativity to build campaigns and ideas for others. It was creative work, yes, but it wasn’t for my soul. It didn’t feel like the way God intended me to use the gift I was given. It was as if I was borrowing my own creativity, instead of living inside it.
Then, a few years ago, something very simple happened. I was walking my dogs when a small flower caught my eye. It was nothing dramatic, just a little flower, standing there in its quiet beauty. For no particular reason, I took a picture of it. That moment was the beginning of a new way of seeing.
I started noticing more flowers, more details, more whispers from nature. My phone filled up with photos of petals, colors, shapes, and light. At some point, I began pairing these images with quotes, first famous ones that matched what I was feeling, then slowly my own words. I posted them on social media, without any big plan, just following a feeling.
Day after day, I realized something profound: I had become a kind of bridge between the universe of nature and the world outside, a world that often rushes past without noticing any of this beauty. Through these flowers and words, people paused. They felt calmer, inspired, or simply seen. My imagination, the one I thought I had lost, started to wake up again.
Now I write many of the quotes that go with my flowers. Through this process, I’m not just creating images, I’m getting to know myself again. As a man, a husband, a father, a nonno, a friend. In other words, as a human being trying to reconnect with his own soul.
This is why I began working on my inspirational art: to reopen that door my daughter was talking about, to talk to the “angels” again through my imagination, and to share that light with anyone who might need a moment of beauty, hope, or peace.
Welcome to this journey with me.