The art of making things talk I Giulia Bernardelli I TEDxMantova

Observation and slowness become opportunities to see the details of reality and discover its beauty. The fascinating gaze of Giulia Bernardelli leads us to grasp with new eyes the shapes and materials that make the spontaneity of nature extraordinary. Her art is that of simple things: her images are born from natural or food elements that surround anyone's life, but are discovered magical if you look closely.

This talk was given at a TEDx event using the TED conference format but independently organized by a local community.

Learn more at https://www.ted.com/tedx

My job began by chance,
on an ordinary day.

Today, it is hard to believe

of how many possibilities
are hidden within habits.

My ordinary day,

but that has forever changed
the course of my life,

happened five years ago.

I woke up and prepared the coffee,
like I do every morning.

I have to admit it,
I am basically a lazy person.

And although this trait of mine
hasn't particularly helped me in life,

it probably gave a certain depth
to my observation,

indeed thanks to slowness.

So, five years ago I made my coffee

and accidentally

spilled it on my kitchen table.

But always following
this state of slowness, or laziness ,

I did not immediately clean this spot
and took a moment to observe it.

And it seemed like
a very interesting spot,

I would say rather beautiful.

What I really like about this spot

is that it is a gesture's perfect result,

like drawing or writing.

And if we think about it,

every spot is the result
of a different movement of our wrist.

A bit like Japanese writing.

So that day I was mesmerized
by my coffee spot

and I started to think:

"But what if,
in addition to the movement,

which is already intrisic,
by nature, in the stain,

I put an intention in it?

If from the cup of coffee, for example,

could come out a portrait,
a story or a landscape -

if even in everything I look

there was a different reality

if only one had the slowness
and the right viewpoint to observe it?

So that day I started drawing
inside the spot

with what I had around me.

A brush or simply a spoon, a toothpick,

what my kitchen offered me.

And that day I literally
entered inside the cup,

as if it were a parallel reality,

a reality where I still currently am in

and that has changed
the course of my life.

My view on the world has become my job.

From the first spot of five years ago,
many others were born,

and within these spots
many things happened.

Imaginary cities grew up,

some people even fell in love,

megalopolis rose up -

Yes, there was a vessel too.

And I must say, I really lived
incredible stories

in these cups of coffee.

Looking at things up close,
often very close, was eye opening.

It was the best thing
that my job led me to do.

My eyes focused on shapes, colors.

I became hungry to see and understand

the reason for certain textures
that I found in nature,

but always repeated themselves.

Also within my body,

such as the veins of the leaves.

Everything was a source of inspiration,
just looked at with new eyes.

And it was a new view especially
towards simplicity, towards habits,

towards what you find at home,
like vegetables.

And their shape and color fascinated me,

as red was blending to green
and vice versa.

And also their intricate inner structures.

They just seemed almost human.

Of one thing I was perfectly certain:

everything seemed to me intertwined
by the red thread of harmony and meaning.

My work has therefore become a dialogue.

I put a part of me
inside a leaf, for example,

but tracing the natural veins,

studying the thickness, the shape,
the color, the strength.

Not seeing it as a simple mean
I can dispose of,

but as a form of life per se,

full of things to say,
full of stories to tell.

And there would be
really a lot of things to say.

I often walk around my neighborhood,
or I go to the countryside for a walk

in search of small
natural elements or leaves,

with an idea in mind
of drawing or carving.

Then I go back home,

take all the things I picked up
on the kitchen table, always the same one,

and I put all the items in order.

And everything is so perfect, I realize,

there is no need of any action by my side.

And in those magical moments, of epiphany,

I feel there's a form of rest in beauty,
and a tendency to good.

The very word rest
is one of my favorite.

Try to close your eyes,
and think what rest is for you.

Rest that is not due -
it is not sleep, it is a different thing.

The word "rest" conveys more, to me,
a sense of well-being, of peace.

And that's for me the beauty
I discover in nature: the rest.

I think that beauty is a human necessity,

precisely the need
to rest your eyes, your heart,

and to believe there are possibilities.

By beauty I do not mean the fake one,
which tends to divide people,

that we often see on social networks,

especially on Instagram,
I see it there very often,

because it puts someone on a pedestal
and everyone else below.

I mean that dense, meaningful beauty

that I always find in natural shapes
and in all that is spontaneity.

A kind of relatable, connecting beauty,

not something to struggle connecting to,

but that we just have in ourselves.

In this regard,

I would like to read you a poem
by Wislawa Szymborska,

a Polish poetess I particularly love

who focuses precisely
on the topic of everyday beauty

in its simplest but deepest forms.

I'll read it in the best possible way.

You read it again at home. maybe.

It is titled "A note"

Life

is the only way to get covered in leaves,

to catch your breath on the sand,
to rise on wings.

To be a dog, or stroke its warm fur;

to tell pain from everything it's not;

to squeeze inside events,

dawdle in views,
to seek the smallest mistake.

An extraordinary chance

to remember for a moment
a conversation held in the dark;

and once, at least,

to stumble upon a stone,
end up soaked in the rain,

mislay your keys in the grass;

and follow with your eyes
a spark on the wind ;

and to keep on

not knowing

something important.

Thank you.

(Applause)