Agatha of Sicily is a work about the body as a place of memory. I chose Saint Agatha because she is both deeply rooted in Sicilian history and profoundly relevant today. Her story—marked by violence and the loss of her breasts—has made her a symbolic figure for women living with breast cancer, turning pain into shared strength.
As a figure from the Etna island, Agatha carries the spirit of a land shaped by eruption and rebirth. I see her not only as a saint, but as a woman whose identity survives trauma. In my painting, her body is not idealized or erased; it is present, transformed, and resilient.
Creating this work during the 900th anniversary of the Feast of Saint Agatha feels especially significant. It is my way of connecting historical devotion with contemporary reflections on femininity, illness, and resistance—using painting as a space where personal, political, and collective histories meet.