Recently, I was in Italy, helping my friend Laurie renovate her property. We were on the hunt for things to use, and stumbled upon a recycled area – not organized or neat, just a jumble of old boards, shutters, bricks, stones, wire, extra tile, and paint buckets. It was overgrown with weeds, and you really had to dig through it. But we found all kinds of cool things we ended up using.
One of the best finds was a pile of handmade bricks, most likely from the turn of the century. We got them for just two euros each, an absolute steal. We had them delivered to Laurie’s house and asked a local man, Mario, if he could build us a brick wall. I told him I wanted it to look authentic, like it had always been there – uneven, dry stacked. I showed him some photos from the internet and asked if it was possible. He smiled and said, “Yes,” and that was that.
We trusted him completely.
Mario worked steadily, even in the rain where he was cutting the bricks. He was calm, easy-going, and always smiling. Every time I came to check on the wall, I was more amazed by his work. I couldn’t help but tell him how incredible it was. He just smiled, completely unbothered. After four days, he finished the wall. It’s flawless, perfect. I can’t even describe how it looks – not completely flat, but exactly as if those bricks had been there for 100 years- as if they’ve always been a part of the cantina.
What struck me most was how humble Mario was. He never bragged, never sought recognition. He just did the work, with grace, letting it speak for itself. When I called him an artist, he just smiled and said, “Thank you.”
There’s something about people like Mario – sharing their talent so generously, without fanfare or ego. They make you feel like you’re the one who created it, even though you know you didn’t.
Whenever I encounter someone like Mario, I’m reminded of how lucky I am to be in a place surrounded by such genuine generosity. It’s the kind of giving that doesn’t expect anything in return, the kind that leaves you in awe without them ever asking for recognition.
It’s as if people like Mario make it look so easy, like their brilliant talent is as simple as sweeping the floor. They give, and give, as if what they’re doing isn’t that important, or isn’t a big deal. But it is.
Craftspersons spend years perfecting their craft, learning through trial and error, refining their skills. It’s their creative focus, their attention to detail, that brings something truly beautiful into existence.
To create something extraordinary, something that feels effortless, as if it was always meant to be. It’s this unspoken gift they share, I am in awe Mario!!
Leave a Reply