The Spaceship of thought Sculpture

Antonella Iovinella and 'born in Naples where he studied, and' formed first as a painter and then as sculptress. Ha lived in the French Riviera, currently resides in Roma.His work can be found at Italian collectors and french.La his painting (oil on canvas), is developed along a careful search for forms and lighs. La sculpture (clay variously coated) processes orchestrated anthropomorphic forms of abstraction of the empty and full.The poetic horizon and technical Antonella Iovinella is to develop a fee hour after hour culture derived from the metaphysical surrealist.Da here 'the artist directs his own mental order that allows the transition from a clear understanding of the self ground to a very spiritual strength. I started my career as an artist with painting. The memory of that moment as the origin of all things will be always unforgettable. It began as a game, from the Naif movement, with the experimentation of colors. Over time those seemingly simple colors were more refined to breathe new life into the work of art always for search for that calming light. Over time I also encountered clay as a material to work with and the idea of the calming light was carried into the emptiness. An open book would give life to the light source. Ideas. Emotions. The constant research being more profound. More truthful. The necessity to find oneself. On my constant wandering I encounter the love for poems and stories. By meeting the design world, I create chairs, lamps, bags, jewelry and much more. I elaborate musical ideas. My work of graphic design is defined as a constant image. My Lights and Shadows are always in conflict. To continue and finally reach the other. That invisibility. That perception of a real world that leads us back to our origin. Poetic thought Antonella Iovinella Over my time leaders' has shrunken generated small luminous spheres. An open book would give life to the light source. My essence free. Above all things, the sharing, the free vacuum, which generates energy. And letting go of the shadow of that passage met the collector of dreams. Those dreams of that time had no more 'end.