Ever since childhood I have had a fondness for peering up – in a contemplative manner, and with an unequivocal love – the sweeping and evocative performances which the sky gives us: the passage from day to night, from clouds to serene, from storms to rainbows, from sunrises to sunsets, and from the moon to the stars …
What is more beautiful than the sky and the clouds? Who has never wandered through its streets? Many times, I have felt as though the sky were my home, a font of repose, able to calm the waters of desperation and able to quench that yearning for truth in those times when the heart is shadowed by great sadness; it is like a friend, sometimes the only one, capable of true intuition and empathy in the journey of life.
Under the starry sky that cradles our sleep we are enchanted; the sky in which the moon reigns with loyal watchfulness (to me it is God’s eye), able to render me a stranger each day; a dimension which elevates the spirit, carrying it into the magical beauty of the infinite.
How many times I have seen rain, the comfort of the light, and my spirit has been overwhelmed by the sheer beauty of the sun dawning, conveying to me a great vital energy.
How many times I have been entranced by the charm of a red sunset, immersing myself in a boundless sea of peace and serenity in the calm of the evening.
How many times I have been dazed by the rumble of thunder in the distance and have shivered at its game – sometimes menacing, sometimes fleeting, sometimes meek and mild. The white clouds hover in the sky, now blue and serene, and then suddenly they are grey, cloudy and turbulent.
Some light clouds sail by, dancing; while others stop, serene and delicate. They soar across the sky and then dissolve in a fascinating and ever-changing game. They challenge the imagination as they turn into winged angels, breathing onto the mirror blue that hosts celestial bodies who watch over the earth. This is for me the tangible vision of the presence of God, revealed to us through the Light of Mystery. Its diaphanous aspects penetrate the divine longing of our soul, reaching and shaping our consciousness.
My art, my paintings, are born from the instinctive effort of the soul in which the intense language of heaven becomes the eternal divine language that frames the image of the most sacred thing we have: LIFE.
Raffaella Calcagnini
