A bio is an intricate tapestry, woven from intense moments and bold leaps of faith—each a decision to embrace risk. It is organic and ever-evolving, not a simple, linear narrative but a dynamic journey shaped by the gravitational pull of time. These are my pieces: images, emotions, inspirations, and encounters—stitched together by the warp and weft that form the fabric of my life.
I was born in a city that emerged from the ashes of B-17 bombings in WWII, rebuilt with resilience and simplicity. From Cassino, I learned:
Succisa Virescit—what is cut down grows back stronger.
One day, my father took me to a small airfield, where the Goodyear blimp hovered. It seemed almost alive—heavy yet weightless, grounded yet free, a leviathan suspended between earth and dreams. Its magic whispered secrets of the skies and filled my young heart with questions.
In our family, the stories of my grandfather Edoardo lived on: the echoes of his trumpet, his all-night reading sessions, and his opera singing formed a colorful mosaic of inspiration for us. Literature and music have always been the essence of our family’s spirit. Continuing this tradition, my mother introduced me to a musical instrument: the piano. Through it, I came to realize that sound is a magical blend of body, soul, craftsmanship, and technology. I discovered that music weaves narratives and sparks the imagination within our minds.
Clelia, my grandmother, a weaver of tales and deals, taught me the rhythm of storytelling and the delicate dance of negotiation amid the symphony of the market. At the market, I learned how words and gestures could build bridges.
When my grandfather Virgilio passed away, I poured my grief into words. A poem emerged, finding its way into print and giving form to the emotions I couldn’t voice aloud. Through this act, I discovered the transformative power of expressing emotions through language. It revealed how words can hold the weight of complex feelings, offering personal catharsis while creating a bridge to share one’s inner world with others.
My brother, now a civil engineer, shared his passion for construction with me from an early age. He would take me to see building sites, where he taught me the art of creating something lasting—patiently, brick by brick, and line by line. Through these experiences, he not only showed me the value of precision and perseverance but also inspired me to appreciate the process of turning dreams into tangible realities.
My elementary school teacher introduced me to the world of athletics, opening the door to a lifelong love for track and field. Running quickly became more than just a sport—it became a sanctuary. It’s where I found myself, a space to release pressure, shed stress, and reconnect with my inner self. With every stride, I discovered a rhythm that brought clarity, strength, and a profound sense of freedom. Running became not just an activity, but a source of balance and self-discovery.
“Cities, like dreams, are made of desires and fears, even if the thread of their discourse is secret, their rules are absurd, their perspectives deceitful, and everything conceals something else.” Italo Calvino, Invisible Cities
Rome embraced me as its own. I became a Roman by diving into the grandeur of ancient ruins, the awe-inspiring majesty of Christian basilicas, the bustling energy of Trastevere’s trattorias, and the heartfelt warmth of its suburbs. I was captivated by the treasures within its museums and art galleries, enlivened by the vibrant nightlife of San Lorenzo, and enthralled by the elegance of Parioli. Rome sculpted my soul with its art, history, spirituality, irony and wit.
And the wind— its invisible force drew me in.
It shaped, it lifted, it carried.
I wanted to understand it, to design machines that could ride its currents.
So I turned to aerospace engineering, where wonder meets precision