Quintessence (893)

Bursts of gold and crimson explode at the heart of the canvas, like multiple suns in full effervescence. Blues stretch like cosmic rivers, crossed with flashes of emerald and ruby. Pinks spread in translucent sheets, like celestial veils lifted by the wind of the unseen. Each red spark, each suspended bubble, seems like a planet in germination, a world awaiting awakening. Yellows pulse like incandescent cores, radiating an indomitable vital energy. Everything overlaps, intertwines, and metamorphoses, as if creation itself were not a bygone past but an infinite present endlessly beginning anew. In the midst of this profusion of light and motion, how can we not feel that we too are bearers of inner universes still unexplored?