Where my feet do not touch the ground stems from the need to consciously accept that feeling of uncertainty and fear dominant in our time linked to the territory in which I have my roots.
The Campi Flegrei have often been used in literature to represent the image of hell, the gateway to the underworld, because of its “burning fields”. An enormous caldera on whose belly life is fascinating, suggestive. The volcano is there but you cannot see it, rather you step on it; you perceive the intimate and dark soul of a land that, precisely because of this nature, is generous, fertile, blessed and cursed at the same time.
In this magical place one lives suspended, between the already and the not yet, between a moment of stillness and a moment of chaos. The surface seduces, sitting there on the bradyseism; the craters spy, the seismographs record the tremors, from underground rises the voice of the statues mangled by time and wind and
finally on the riverbank one wonders
if this is real life
if there will ever be peace.
The research investigates the uniqueness of this land, interpreting the feelings of those who put their feet on these feared and loved fields.