1
Active workshops
33
Years of activity
I grew up in the workshop. Literally — at six I'd fall asleep on the bench while my grandfather Aldo stitched through the night. The smell of raw leather is my earliest memory. Today that workshop is mine. Same leather, same tools, same silent morning hours. I never wanted anything else. Every Saturday I open the doors to anyone who wants to learn. I don't teach a technique — I teach a rhythm. Leather slows you down, forces you to be present. In a world that never stops, it's the slowest place I know. And the most beautiful.
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