These last work by Daniela Monaci are like thoughts, where the hand has molded and caressed the clay bodies that remain ideally suspended, like islands on the water of nautical charts, reminiscent of distant journeys and childhood observations.
The thought passes lightly to a hand that goes by itself almost without intention, and transmits and rediscovers the wavw, the rhytms, the trajectories and the beat of time, scratched into the precious piercings of the clay, wich surround the surfaces in emergence.
A plot of secret harmonies on which, while the hand composes them - almost a lace - in analogy with the translucent dots traced on the nautical chart, the eye flies, capturing the vision suspended between sky and sea, between high and low, between depht and surface, letting everything flow and move driven by chance and attraction, towards a dreamy and medidative threshold. Like the dew drops on the leaves, like the dazzling rolling of pearls.
