Introduction
My whole life I had been waiting for the moment I could finally move out, escape my hometown, leave everything and everyone behind. I was looking for separation because I could not find a sense of belonging in the place I was living; I could not feel a sense of identity among the people I was around.
Me facing the sea that surrounds Piombino, my hometown
So, when I was 19, I moved out of my parents’ house to go live in the Netherlands. I thought putting physical distance between me and that world, that I already felt so distant from, would help me find a brand-new sense of identity. But the effect that I obtained was almost the total opposite. Maybe I was growing up and becoming more mature, or maybe I needed to get as far as possible from my family to feel closer to them than ever.
For the first time, I felt homesick.
Map view of Piombino, Tuscany, Italy (Google Maps, 2023)
That, in return, greatly improved my relationship with my parents and my relatives. Frequent calls, daily texts, regular flights to go back home.
Everything felt stable; my family felt as solid as ever.
Everything felt stable; my family felt as solid as ever.
But there it was. A big crack. The most enormous tear in the fabric of my universe.
It was a summer night, Friday 8th July 2022. I had just gotten back home after being out drinking with some friends, around 2 am. That is when my parents decided to tell me they were separating. Crack.
My entire world came crashing down. They were my idea of a "perfect couple", a representation of true love. But I guess that was all my head as the reality of things was something different. It had been different for a while. Seven months, exactly. My dad did not love my mom anymore and they had been secretly separated since January 2022. Many things changed from there forward. I was already not living at home and, when my dad moved out, my mom’s house filled up with empty spaces. I could see how she slowly started realizing that she had to learn to live alone at 58 years old. It became hard to go back home. I did not want to see the pain in my mom’s eyes, my grandma’s confusion, the many questions in my aunt’s head, and the total recklessness in my brother’s life.
Months passed, raw emotions slowly became understanding and acceptance. My world is different now, but I am slowly learning to make peace with it; to appreciate it. While my dad is still present in my life, I grew closer to the women around me and to my brother. Through this project, I learnt about the history of my home, my family, and where I grew up. I got to hear stories from the past: some new, some I already knew. I built a bit of that identity I was so desperately looking for, by being among those same people I once felt an ocean apart from; I once ran from. I learnt to accept the change and to cherish my origins.
But this project is not a sad story, it's quite hilarious - one that makes you laugh till you tear up and your face becomes all red. Because this project is not a story about someone leaving, it is about those who remained. It is about three stubborn and complicated women who depend on each other more than they would like to admit, who hide behind the walls of their separate homes, and yet they can't help but have lunch together, and call each other, and text, and meet, every day.
This project is not about resentful emotions, it is about love, strength, and acceptance. Woman supporting woman; sister supporting sister; mother supporting daughter.
Through these photographs and their words, I aim to make you feel part of my family as if you were sitting on the couch with us, laughing at our jokes, screaming at our incomprehension, listening to our meaningless conversations, eating our food; to fully immerse the observer into my intimate family life. A little bit as if you were me.
Three unique Italian women, so beautifully full of contradictions. They are my mom, my aunt, and my grandmother, and this project is about them.
About their craziness, their faults, their strengths, their beauty, their weaknesses, and their complicated relationships with one another. A journey through their memories, their stories, their homes, and their habits.
A journey through the people who are and always will be
my solid roots.
my solid roots.
