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Written thoughts





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The Anti-design bro


I’ve always been fascinated by design that enters the world, but not to decorate it. Design that is born from a question. Design that takes responsibility, even when it doesn’t fully solve it. Design that highlights a problem. Uncomfortable design, maybe a bit ugly, maybe less cute, maybe less pretty, but functional. Or maybe less functional and more emotional.

I think some people can be identified through what could be called design of attitude — people who carry with them an attitude toward a theme, a race, a cause… Or maybe ethical design? Or anti-design? Anti doesn’t mean against design, but against the beautiful, cute, functional mainstream.

And then, what does design really mean? As Ettore Sottsass said: saying design is like saying literature — it means everything and nothing. But that’s another discussion.

Still, Sottsass really was an anti-designer designer. An anti-design bro, but so deep inside the industry, the mainstream. He didn’t talk bs just from the outside. He was one of them, maybe a different kind but for sure a natural. A talent for looking, for questioning, for doing. Sottsass was anti-designer because he put emotion before function. Life before the object. In a world increasingly made of yes or no, he brought the maybe, the if, and the but.

Maybe a bit like today. We’re becoming a bit too yes and too no. The maybe, the but, and the if are slowly being forgotten. They become uncomfortable acts, difficult, maybe even too slow, in a world where everything is prepared, packaged, digitalized, fast, and simplified.

Now, cities, houses, objects, machines, clothes, TVs, bathrooms, lamps, toasters, lamps again, knives, forks, and sooner or later even us — everything moving toward a single thing. One big thing. One big object. One function, one click, until the click is gone too, simplified as well. Toward unification, simplification, human–machine integration. This is technology.

What questions should we be asking in this context, in this historical moment, before the storm, who knows? What would an anti-designer do, or what would an ethical or attitudinal designer say?

If Sottsass were alive today, what would he ask himself, what would he look at, and what would he propose?
Would he ask what kind of human beings we are becoming? What we are sacrificing in the name of comfort, speed, and simplicity? What remains of the human relationship when everything becomes digitalized and robotized?

Would he look at hyperconnected loneliness? At the gradual loss of touch? At performance anxiety? At bodies increasingly seated, still, switched off? He would look at people, not products.

And maybe he would propose objects that don’t optimize, objects that don’t simplify, objects that ask for time, objects that don’t explain everything, objects that make you feel something. Slow things. Maybe slow but necessary things. Things you don’t like immediately.


13 January 2026, Cascais

dogs 


Like a dog that stops biting its tail.
 The tail returns to its intended form: made to express excitement or fear.
 Made to communicate, not to be bitten. To be what it’s meant to be.
The dog biting its tail feels like a metaphor for an anxious, unproductive, endless loop.
 Like our relationship with technology: essential, yet destructive.

Excited, electrified to the point we never close our eyes.
 Electrified like when people are truly electrified
 eyes wide open, teeth clenched in a face that isn’t a smile.
 You can see all the teeth, almost.
 A body that’s still, but a state, mirroring the opposite of stillness.  
That’s where we are now:
 texts, apps, likes, fires, and hearts. pure dopamine...
Masks. Untruthful tales. Lies and Endless Stories. Endless scrolling, as they say.
 Every day. 
And the finger stays plugged in - electrified, half dead, half alive. But connected

15 Luglio 2025, Rome



Vintage grandmas

In an era defined by our relentless toxic-love with technology, we find ourselves on a path with no turning back, steering towards a world, a life, and an environment that increasingly resembles Blade Runner’s cyberpunk metropolis.

The life around us - cities, houses, objects, cars, clothes, TVs, bathrooms, toasters, lamps, knives, forks, and humans- all moving towards one thing. One big object. One big function. One thing that does everything. Towards unification, simplification, integration. I believe this is technology. Anyways, this is another topic.

We’re in a unique period of humanity, balancing between two worlds. We‘re living between past and future. The past feels more vintage-like, like analog, while the future offers us glimpses- like little time machine windows -that show us what we are becoming.

The generations of our parents and grandparents are still present and trying to survive at all costs, intertwined with the ever-growing, prodigious humanoid we’re raising. Kind of disturbing, I guess; however, quite romantic.

We still carry phone chargers everywhere, stop to put liquid in our cars, and complain about always being glued to our phones. If you think about it, these things are already quite antique in our growing tech society. Interestingly, we can still fight it. Like choosing to put the phone aside for a moment and look up.

If you want to take a time machine into the past, just go visit your grandmother - or if you no longer have one, go for a walk in a countryside village. You’ll witness what is on the verge of extinction.

This exact period we’re living in, right in the middle, blends two completely different realities that are drifting further apart.

Cars running on oil, wired batteries, screens, and vintage grandmothers are still here- but just for a moment. Take it all in and appreciate it, because it will all be gone soon. Everything will be automated, integrated, and perfectly functional…

19 January 2025, Rome  




 














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