Soft Mouse Pad, Rectangular.
Buy The albino butterfy Soft Mouse Pad Art Print by artist federico cortese available at Artist.com. Check out the Soft Mouse Pad Art Print collections available at Artist.com.An original piece from the series “Please do not kill butterflies”, pins and oil on paper, 30 x22 cm, 2017. ORIGINAL SOLD. Please, all these dead animals ... Of course, not everyone of us can or want become vegetarian. Sure, in some cases, maybe, the medical experimentation needs them to get results. But we really have to kill them for our frivolous activities? ... Is it necessary to have so many pink pigs die in front of a camera? Do we really need to dissect sharks in formaldehyde, to starve stray dogs tied to a chain in the corner of a gallery, or to make innocent ants go crazy in twisted tubes of plexiglas? To make these drawings, no butterfly was killed.
I was born in 1971 in Turin, Italy, where I live and work as an artist. Since I can remember I have always drawn. My preferred techniques are classic oil on canvas paintings, and pencil drawings.
I’m like a mouse in its box. A little mouse safe in its shelter, that passes his time gnawing the food stored for the winter. But my food are the drawings. I work within my home. My studio is a room of the house in which I live. In this relatively small space are accumulated all the materials and equipment I need to draw and paint, but in a certain sense also the suggestions that inspire my work. Here are the desks and drawing boards, with brushes and paint colors, but also, on the walls or placed in closets, paintings and drawings (I think each finished work is always an inspiration for the next, in somehow). A great source of ideas are books and music, and of course the PC. The graphics programs and virtual modeling programs have become over the years a valuable support, but obviously the richest mine is the internet: a reservoir of images and ideas from which to draw, and in which we often are lost (in addition to photos of my own travels, all stored on the computer). It’s a small microcosm closed in on itself, rather impervious to the outside world (despite a large window with a beautiful view of Turin, almost always I work with the curtains closed). It is a bit as if the suggestions of the real world were allowed to enter here only after being filtered and digested, only after it has been already turned into experience. Exactly like a rat, eating quiet its supplies in its den, waiting for the end of winter.