Quintessence (465)

A violet fragment drifts like an island across the ocean of the canvas. Its surface is studded with luminous cells, recalling stars trapped in matter still aflame. Behind it, green bursts forth, sharp and vivid, like vegetal flames. Below, orange and gold spread out like a molten sea, vast and ever-shifting. The scattered orange dots resemble suns cast into the white sky, as though space itself had splintered into seeds of light. Here, everything breathes ambivalence: weight and suspension, fire and freshness, matter and breath. The eye wavers between the heaviness of the violet mass and the fluidity of the colors flowing around it. And could this cosmic island be not merely a fragment adrift, but a promise of worlds yet to be—awaiting their own birth?