I was always amazed by the magical essence of old stories, the heroic act of characters, the spirit of fantastic creatures, and the beauty of nature—and found my own in the grain of wood. So I began to carve it.
I started my journey as a restorer of antique wooden objects, because I was drawn to the hidden soul of old things. Each item I touched held not only timeworn cracks and faded colors, but memories, emotions, and stories of those who once held them. This is how I learned that wood is not just material, but it remembers, and speaks, too.
So it quickly evolved into a deeper quest: not only fix what was broken, but to reclaim our stories, too. I began to carve to tell stories and to reconnect with ourselves, each other, and the living world through play, myth, and imagination—let it be amulets, masks, game props or any personal tokens.
I believe in the wisdom of nature and the freedom of the soul. In a world that often forgets how to listen, I return to wood, to story, and to play — because they help us remember who we truly are. I carve not just for beauty or tradition, but to protect what is sacred: our connection to the Earth, to each other, and to the wild wonder inside us.
Because—as Thomas Szasz once wrote—“The self is not something one finds, it is something one creates.” Because this is how you cope with pain: through your hands you transfer its essence into creating beauty.
My style of creating beauty is intuitive, hand-crafted and deeply rooted in nature. I mostly work with reclaimed and storm-fallen wood, letting each piece reveal its own voice through exciting grain, organic curves and flawless imperfections. I let the wood tell its story; the only thing I do is to listen to it. Through wabi-sabi philosophy, I use hand tools, and treat surfaces with natural oils and waxes. For me, flaw is beauty. And when I’m not carving, I teach it on woodcarving workshops or storytelling-based games in children camps inspired by stories like Tolkien’s lore, Campbell’s hero’s journey, or my own Guardians of the Woods.
I work for those who feel lost but are still searching. For those who long to feel they belong, or free. For those who are highly sensitive. And for those who want to reconnect with the spirit of play, of nature, and of their own story: the young dreamers and old souls who never stopped believing in magic.
After all, what are we, if not the stories we create? How else can we truly connect, if not through the stories we choose to share?
I’m Marcello, and I carve stories into wood because I still believe every story deserves to be told.
Where shall we start carving yours?