Quintessence (741)

This canvas opens like a mineral garden, where each color seems to push out of the earth in unexpected bursts. Ochre and brown trace underground roots, heavy with memory, while lush greens burst toward the light. Here, matter becomes foliage, moss, and corolla: it breathes, pulses, unfolds like a canopy in the making. Touches of orange and red appear as fiery seeds, suspended between sky and soil, witnesses to a life in circulation. They remind us that the seed exists only in its tension between the buried and the elevated, between protective darkness and the call of day. In the milky white, one discerns a light seeping gently through, ready to bloom into flowering. Each cell, each drop of color, seems to contain a miniature universe, as if Creation itself were being replayed within a fragment. It is the same eternal dynamic: from chaos is born harmony, from the rawest soil springs the unexpected. And if every moment of our life, even the heaviest one, were in truth nothing but fertile ground awaiting its germination of light?