It all started in 2023 at a creative agency in Milan. I was working in luxury hospitality, a world that, surprisingly, has a massive appetite for visual art. We were making bespoke collages for clients, and while I was cutting and pasting for the job, I realized something: these weren't just marketing assets. They were little pieces of art. A few years later, I moved to Ireland. The desk job changed, but the itch to create didn't. In my spare time, I’d find myself digging through old archives and scrolling through endless feeds, looking for images that actually meant something. That’s how sbrollage was born. It’s the result of turning professional structure into personal chaos. It’s a project where images lose their original meaning and get a second chance at being something else entirely. No briefs, no mood boards, just the weird, surreal, and messy work of putting reality back together.
Sbrollage is where fragments of reality get rearranged into something that never really existed, until now. It started from a simple instinct: collecting, cutting, mixing. Taking images out of their original context and letting them collide until they made sense in a different way. Not cleaner, not more logical, just more honest. Each piece is a small act of controlled chaos. Familiar elements, misplaced on purpose, creating new worlds that live somewhere between memory and imagination. There’s no endless scrolling here, no algorithm deciding what comes next. Just curated fragments, assembled by hand, meant to be looked at, felt, and maybe questioned. Some people hang them on their walls. Others keep them for what they fill instead. Either way, Sbrollage is about finding meaning in the in-between, where things don’t fully belong, but somehow fit anyway.
