Quintessence (91)

In this painting, the primeval night opens like a dense matrix, saturated with black and brown, streaked with flashes of blue and incandescent gold. An energy seems to have surged forth from the chaos, stirring matter in an original tumult. Shapes are born and scattered, swirling like fragments of galaxies still in gestation. The gaze loses itself in this cosmic alchemy, where shadow is no longer absence, but the promise of awakening. There, burning ochres mingle with splashes of turquoise and white, evoking the collision of fire and water, density and ether. One might sense a breath, as if the Spirit passed through the canvas to shape the formless and grant it a face. The silence is heavy, yet full: it resonates with what was the beginning, and with what might still come to be. Each gleam is a seed, each fissure a passage, each luminous trace a sign of future life. Chaos reveals itself as a womb, and awakening dawns like a fragile aurora, bursting forth at the very heart of the darkness. And if true light could only ever be born through the thickness of night, in that precarious moment where all wavers between destruction and creation?