Quintessence (1371)

A dazzling luxuriance floods the canvas, like a cosmic forest in full bloom. Greens abound, crossed by fiery reds like lianas of flame, while violets and blues rise in airy cascades, like petals opening toward the sky. Cells appear as bubbles of sap or suspended seeds, each carrying a promise of life. Everything seems to breathe, to pulse, to spread in a vital surge uniting earth, water, and light. Orange bursts, scattered like incandescent pollen, add to the sense of effervescence and germination. The canvas becomes a vegetal Eden, both rooted and celestial, where one perceives the invisible hand of the Creator at work. Quintessence reveals itself here in this profusion, in this generous abundance that endlessly renews itself. But is this inner garden the memory of a paradise lost, or the vision of a nature yet to be born in infinity?