Plants Flirt, Women Bloom, Caterina Solustri Draws It All

Caterina Solustri didn’t become an artist. She chlorophyll-ed her way into it. Raised in Italy’s Marche region, where the clouds sigh sonnets and espresso cups practically hum Puccini, she learned to observe like a bee and compose like a Nonna stringing laundry across a cobblestone stage. These days she lives in Spain, slow-brewing joy like it’s a fine herbal tonic. “Andalusia dances like my illustrations,” she says. That’s not poetic flourish. That’s a declaration of war on your minimalist Pinterest page.

Her figures don’t just coexist with nature: they gossip with butterflies, flirt with vines, and perform interpretive dance with moss. In a typical Solustri scene, women bloom into petaled deities, foxes contemplate eternity, and teacups waltz with suspicious rhythm. Stillness doesn’t exist here. Even the quiet is choreographed. But beneath the whimsy is soft rebellion: political petals, protest in bloom, soft revolution in radiant tones. Her women aren’t waiting to be admired. They’re mid-metamorphosis, already halfway into myth.

She’s worked with toddlers, elders, and probably an enchanted forest or two. Her secret? Seeing everything - from weeds to ruins - as sentient and singing. Caterina doesn’t illustrate the world as it is; she sketches the version we secretly hope for. The one where kindness has kinetic energy, and surrealism is just realism with better manners.

Forget sterile palettes and matchy-matchy moodboards. Caterina’s colours don’t soothe, they stage interventions. They don’t whisper wellness, they yell joy through a megaphone dipped in magenta. She calls colour “medicine,” but this stuff doesn’t come with dosage instructions. It’s retina rehab for the chronically grey. If she ever makes a picture book for adults, we’ll be first in line: barefoot, overstimulated, and ready to be healed by hot pink.

I. ROOTED IN NATURE, BLOOMING IN COLOUR

Growing up in the countryside of Le Marche, Italy, Caterina was surrounded by slow seasons, rich colours, and the quiet, teeming presence of nature. "Nature was my first playmate and teacher in observation," she recalls. Every petal, insect, or gust of wind became a small universe. That early intimacy with the land not only shaped her creative outlook but became an internal lens she still uses today. Even now, living in Spain, she finds echoes of that world. "It’s as if that childhood gave me a special lens through which to see the world - slower, deeper, and more in love with life." Andalusia, in particular, has captured her heart with its mysticism and movement. "It’s a land that dances, just like my illustrations."

II. THE NATURAL WORLD AS POETIC POLITICS

Caterina’s work often shows women, animals, and plants in lyrical harmony. These aren't just aesthetic choices; they're an intentional call to remember. "We are part of a whole - not separate, but deeply intertwined with the Earth." In a digitally overstimulated society, Caterina uses her art to offer an invitation back into balance. "The environmental crisis shows what happens when we forget this bond," she says. "Art can be a gentle but urgent call to reconnect."

III. COLOUR, CHILDHOOD, AND CREATIVE EXCHANGE

Her work with children and multi-generational groups has profoundly influenced her artistic process. "Children taught me to keep wonder alive. They see magic in simple things - a flower, a cloud." That sense of play carries into her palette too. Colour, for Caterina, is resistance and remedy. "The world is going through a profound crisis. We risk absorbing its grayness." Her antidote? "Strong, vivid, explosive colours to ignite a positive, active attitude."

IV. RITUAL, MEMORY, AND THE MAGIC OF OBJECTS

Caterina’s images often blend the real with the surreal: dancing cups, floating figures, animals in quiet conversation. These aren't just flights of fancy. "The dancing cups are very personal," she says. "They represent home and belonging. Wherever I go, I travel with a moka pot and an espresso cup." Her travels across South America and Spain offer recurring visual motifs. "South America’s wild nature and colour still live in my illustrations. And Andalusia, with its mosaics, flowers, and light, continues to nourish my palette."

V. WONDER, BELONGING, AND WHAT ART IS FOR

At its heart, Caterina’s work is a love letter to reconnection. "Even in cities, I find ways to stay connected to Nature: lying in parks, walking barefoot, listening to green silences." What does she hope people feel when they encounter her art? Not an explanation, but a sensation: "A breath of beauty and wonder. An invitation to slow down. A spark of recognition, like the image is telling a story that already lives inside you."