Quintessence (395)

A stream of light unfolds like a comet crossing the sky, leaving behind a trail of colors in fusion. Soft beige, like a serene desert, welcomes the abundance of reds, violets, and turquoises, as if the earthly horizon were opening onto an inner dawn. Cells blossom like suspended corollas, revealing the life that pulses within the unexpected. The movement seems twofold: horizontal, like a wave spreading outward, vertical, like a surge of energy rising. In this fertile tension, chance weaves a harmony where each drop finds its place. Ochre and orange become solar seeds, blue becomes a breath of water, purple ignites in silence. The whole recalls that creation is a passage, a circulation between worlds that seem distant yet answer one another intimately. The eye lets itself be carried along, as in a dance where every step leads toward something greater than oneself. And if, at the heart of our own crossings, we too were called to leave behind us a trail of light?