Quintessence (209)

A luminous furrow cuts across the canvas, akin to a fissure split open in cosmic matter. Intense blues follow one another like stepping stones, guiding the gaze amid a tumult of reds, ochres and purples. All around, the substance appears molten, shifting, ready either to engulf or to unveil. Yet this path of light persists—fragile, but steadfast—like a thread stretched through the heart of darkness. Each gleam seems to mark a stage, a pause upon a broader crossing. Scattered gold glimmers like beacons of hope, a reminder that even amidst chaos, clarity is never truly lost. Black, far from being an impediment, becomes instead a depth, a silence, an interior space where passage might open. One senses an invitation: to press forward, to cross, to let oneself be guided by the vibration of colours, by this line ascending between sky and abyss. For this is not merely an external path, but perhaps an intimate journey—one that links shadow and light, the fleeting and the eternal. And what if every life were, in truth, just such a passage—a mysterious crossing where chaos itself traces the way?