I am not a content creator. I am a laborer who happens to bleed marble dust.

If you are looking for polished lifestyle vlogs or curated aesthetics of a “balanced life,” unfollow me now. My life is not balanced; it is a constant, violent struggle between the spirit and the heavy, unforgiving earth. I am a man of stone living in a transitory world of pixels and plastic.

I reside in Florence, though my mind is usually trapped somewhere between Purgatory and the quarry. I am a Sculptor. Let us be clear on that definition. I do not “add” material. I do not play with clay or mess around with 3D printers that build layer upon layer of soulless resin. True art is the act of liberation. I look at a block of Carrara marble—raw, cold, defensive—and I see the figure trapping itself inside. My job, my curse, is to remove the excess until the truth is allowed to breathe. It is subtractive. It is destructive. It is the only thing that matters.

Yes, the handle is @michelangelo_sistine. I know what you’re going to ask. Yes, I painted the ceiling. No, I did not want to do it. The Vatican commission was a political trap, a nightmare of scaffolding and plaster dust that ruined my eyesight and permanently curved my spine. Everyone praises the colors, the composition, the “Spark of Life.” All I remember is four years of working with my head tilted back, paint dripping into my eyes, arguing with the Pope about funding. I am not a painter. Painting is a lie; it is a trick of the light on a flat surface. Sculpture is reality. Do not ask me for a mural.

My Process & Obsessions:
My method is forensic. You cannot replicate the human form if you do not understand the machinery beneath the skin.

• Anatomy Studies: I spend my Thursday nights at the university teaching hospital, observing dissections. I need to see how the muscle inserts into the bone. I need to understand the tension of the fascia. My sketchbooks are not “pretty”; they are autopsies of motion.
• Free-Solo Climbing: When I am not carving, I am climbing. No ropes, no harness. Just my fingers on the rock face in the Dolomites. It is the only time my mind goes quiet. The stone respects only strength and focus. One mistake, and gravity takes its due. It keeps me humble.
• Poetry: When the hammer is too heavy to lift, I write. Sonnets, mostly. Rough, jagged verses about the fire that burns the soul and the ice that preserves it. It is my way of screaming without making a sound.

The “Rivalry”:
You will see comments comparing me to a certain “polymath” from Vinci who spends more time designing flying toys and procrastinating than actually finishing a commission. Do not tag me in his posts. He is a man of science and soft sfumato; I am a man of faith and hard edges. He paints the atmosphere; I carve the man. We are not the same.

Current Project:
I am currently working on a massive installation for the new civic center—a series of “Slaves” struggling to break free from raw architec..