Celestial Vertigo

An incandescent breath crosses this canvas, like a lightning bolt tearing the veils of air. Colors erupt in cascading torrents, streams of fire and ice entwined, suspended in a fragile instant. An ascending movement carries the gaze upward, where the azure seems to open into an abyss. At the center, a blazing form bends, unfurls, rears up—like a phoenix at the threshold of flight. Around it, light cleaves space into shards, like countless beacons pointing toward infinity. The deep green of earthly roots still surfaces, yet it already fades into the burn of the skies. Everything seems to tilt, as if the universe had lost its axis, swallowed by a vertigo with no return. The balance is fragile, precarious, held by a thread of brilliance that shimmers and threatens to break. And yet, within this tumult, a secret harmony endures, a silent hymn of reconciliation. Matter becomes energy, and energy transforms into a painted prayer. Here, the intoxication of heights merges with the call of depths, mirror of wandering souls. Is this vertigo not also that of the heart, when it lets itself be seized by the immensity of the invisible?