A spinning top is a piece of wood that turns.

It's quite a simple thing.

And yet he enchants everyone.

A spinning top is also a metaphor for our lives, as children, adults or the elderly. In my work as a street educator I used several tools, until I found my own: the game. Since then (and it’s almost twenty years) I’ve been walking around the squares, courtyards and streets with my Ludobus, the playroom of the games of the past. But I didn't use spinning top until 2010. There is no particular reason, perhaps in the culture I grew up in they had already vanished a bit.

When I discovered them it was love at first sight, but not for their beauty or elegance in turning, but in the ability of each spinning top to go into the hands of a child, mother or grandmother and awaken a playful conscience. A happy family is if the parents are happy. And playing seems like a good way to be.

I was already a carpenter, almost exclusively playful, but I missed the turning. Where I grew up they made furniture, but without lathe. But I've always been stubborn. And so you ask, ask and still ask and find the right person who teaches you. And the first spinning top is born. Since then, spinning of all kinds have been born, from the classic to the strangest, which turn over, that shine, that jump, that become flowers, that fight and who knows how many others.

In the meantime I became a father and if before I did this just for me, now everything is different, and through the tops I would like Alice to discover the difference from the analog world and the digital one, and that knows how to choose her path in conscience. And so he helps me write a story, that of Alice and the Trottolaio Matto, who will tell of his adventures of his spinning life, helps me to carry them around, for the moment he puts them in his mouth and bites them, he watches them turn and stops them, but at the end he looks at me and smiles.

That's why I'm spinning a spinning mill.