The Braille Series is a cycle of geometric abstractions woven with three-dimensional braille inscriptions, each one formed point by point with steel nails and painted in acrylic. These works were born from a desire to move beyond the purely visual, to create pieces that invite touch as well as sight, and to open a space where art can be experienced through both material and language.
Each N• number marks not only the count of nails but also the individuality of the message it carries. Some phrases are drawn from great thinkers, others from spiritual voices, cultural icons, or simple truths. Written in braille, they are quiet yet insistent, asking to be felt rather than merely seen.
The steel gives them weight and permanence, but the messages themselves remain light, human, and intimate: “Peace begins with a smile,” “Nothing has eternal value,” “Dare to think for yourself,” “It costs nothing to be kind,” “Don’t hold back,” and “It is all a great mystery.”
Together, the works are meditations on presence, resilience, and the subtle intersections of fragility and strength. They are reminders that meaning often lies in what is not immediately visible, that beneath surfaces, there are textures, codes, and voices waiting to be read in silence.
/30 x 30 x 5 cm, 60 industrial nails, acrylic paint/
N• 60 is the first piece I created with the specific intention of reaching audiences who experience the world through touch as much as through sight.
The braille inscription reads:
For me, this phrase distills the essence of the work: the mystery of perception itself, the unseen dimensions of art, and the truth that meaning is never confined to vision alone.
With N• 60, I wanted to expand the encounter with art into texture, depth, and presence, an abstraction that is also an offering, a reminder that mystery belongs to all of us, regardless of how we perceive the world.
/30 x 30 x 5 cm, 68 industrial nails, acrylic paint/
In N•68, a field of sixty-eight steel nails holds a braille transcription of Voltaire’s words:
The piece is both visual and tactile, opening space for meaning to be absorbed through the hands as much as through the eyes. For me, it is less an image than an invocation, a call toward freedom of thought and the courage to resist conformity.
Here, every nail is a gesture of insistence. The message is not proclaimed loudly, but quietly pressed into form, reminding us that independence of thought is universal, accessible, and enduring.
/30 x 30 x 5 cm, 64 industrial nails, acrylic paint/
N• 64 carries in braille a phrase by Marcel Duchamp:
The work is shaped from sixty-four steel nails, each one a point of rhythm and insistence. What drew me to Duchamp’s words was their paradox: a fleeting thought made permanent in steel, a statement about impermanence given material weight.
For me, this piece is a meditation on transience—on how even what feels fixed eventually dissolves, and how value arises not from permanence, but from perception itself.
/30 x 30 x 5 cm, 55 industrial nails, acrylic paint/
The inscription of N• 55 translates Mother Teresa’s words into braille:
Formed from fifty-five nails, the work carries a message that is disarmingly simple, yet endlessly resonant. Peace does not begin with proclamations, but with gestures: small, human, and intimate.
Here, steel holds softness. The piece is both structure and offering, reminding me that even the most delicate truths can endure when given form.
/30 x 30 x 5 cm, 67 industrial nails, acrylic paint/
The braille inscription of N• 67 carries Tina Turner’s message:
Sixty-seven nails hold the phrase, each one anchoring a truth both practical and profound. Kindness carries no cost, yet it holds transformative weight.
This work is about convergence, the strength of steel carrying the softness of compassion. A reminder that resilience and gentleness are not opposites, but inseparable aspects of real power.
/30 x 30 x 5 cm, 34 industrial nails, acrylic paint/
In N• 34, the message is brief and urgent:
Thirty-four nails carry these words into form, transforming them into something to be touched as well as read. For me, this work is about courage, an invitation to move forward, to act, to resist hesitation.
The permanence of steel becomes here a vessel for insistence: life, like art, asks us not to retreat, but to step fully into possibility.