Without Sky. Quick light strokes , veils of colour, informal materic splashes investigate our ”nous” and make entities looking for perfection emerge, a perfection which doesn’t accept any discrimination any more than distinction. Endless landscapes where the eye has to be trained to notice the elements of the work, despite what usually happens in the usage of daily routine, where everything seems to be useful and everlasting, real, but where everything is only appearance and doomed to disintegration with the same quickness it has deceptively been created with. The landscape appears ethereal, rarefied , you have the feeling to lose any reference point, neither earth nor sky exists , does it exist only a spiritual dimension where man is alone with himself and with the power of nature which overwhelms him so much as to deprive him of his personality, bare in front of the Supreme’s power.
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