It doesn't matter if in an overseas college or on a beach a few steps from home, in my Puglia, at any latitude, when I stop, even for a moment, from the frenzy of the days, what brings me back home is a delicate thread in the expert hands of my grandmother. His canvases were stretched out white and bright, like my landscapes in this strip of sunny land. His brush was a needle with a thread, with which he told precious caged stories, on a delicate linen mantle. I grew up like this, with those ancient stories of hers, sewn by hands capable of preserving knowledge and traditions. Only now do I realize how much my time as a child, between games and embroidery, was precious and privileged time.
Pronounced in any language of the world it retains the same delicacy, the same love, the same dedication, the same passion. My grandmother's is mine today. A legacy that I have decided to keep.
But how could I trap all these emotions, to make them immortal and at the same time share and communicate them?
Thus a brand was born, a brand that preserves, in that same embroidery thread, all the light and history of mine and my land. A flower in which the battle of my Castel del Monte merges, a stone crown that has reigned over my Andria for centuries. The preciousness of simple things, the luxury dictated by that "less is more", which digs towards essential invisible to the eye.
I still remember the echo of anyone who looked at my grandmother's work: Ci Belle! In two little words, all the wonder and amazement that only beauty is capable of.
From my grandmother, to my father to me.
This is the story that I want to continue to baste, to sew on anyone who will be able to recognize CiBelle, the wide eyes of the wonder of a child fascinated by her grandmother's stories.CiBelle