My name is Marta Salerno, known as Marta Make, and I was born in Frascati in 1990. My life has never had a path outside of art. It began in my father’s luthiery workshop when I was six years old, with hands too small to understand the world but already big enough to carve wood. That was where I learned patience, instinct, respect for materials, and above all the certainty that creating was the only way I could exist.

I grew up drawing, painting, covering my hands with colors and then with spray paint, discovering the streets through graffiti which taught me courage, identity, and belonging. Tattooing came later, as a doorway and as a salvation. I became an international tattoo artist! It was the discipline that gave me financial freedom and mental clarity, the one that allowed me to buy back my time to paint and evolve as an artist, despite coming from a humble family where the myth of the starving artist felt almost like an unavoidable destiny. I never accepted that story. I kept chasing my dream even when money was low, even when obstacles multiplied, even when people’s judgment became a blade on my neck.

Then four years ago I opened my OnlyFans. Many judged that choice, misunderstood it, criticized it. For me it was an act of power and self determination. I had no idea that from that step a completely new artistic chapter would be born. While exploring myself, my body, and my own freedom, I began creating backgrounds on canvas using my squirting, transforming an intimate, sacred gesture into a painting technique. Every movement, every burst, every drop became a mark, a physical record of something unrepeatable. I filmed each process because every video became the NFT of each artwork. I was not just making art, I was turning taboo into language, the body into a brush, sexuality into a manifesto.

I became the only artist in the world using this technique, and I swear I have never sold a painting that did not contain my squirting. From that moment on everything exploded. My work started selling out, my identity became unmistakable, and my voice as an artist became louder than ever.

Today I live in Miami, a place where what I do is not judged but welcomed, celebrated, understood. Here my work is not scandal but innovation. Not pornography but language. Not provocation but truth. I left Italy with a kind of lightness that comes only when you walk away from a place that refuses to see you. I left because its culture, still chained to religious morality, could not accept a woman using her body as an artistic medium without shame. In Italy sexuality is still condemned, judged, hidden. But to me it is simply human. Natural. Powerful. I see it as a creative act, no different from a brushstroke. It has been dehumanized by religion and fear, and I chose to give it dignity again by transforming it into art.

My work today is a declaration of freedom. An invitation to undress not from clothing but from the narratives that keep us small. A reminder that the body is not an enemy but a tool. And a living proof that being an artist means having the courage to place yourself at the center of your destiny even when the world tells you that you cannot.

I can. And I do it every single day.