The Elysian Star

In the heart of darkness rises a singular star. It is not like the other stars: its glow is not merely brilliance, it is memory, a gentle flame where happy souls gather. It does not burn: it consoles. It does not blind: it reveals. Its rays drift like veils of silk, caressing the universe with their diaphanous light. Every color it diffuses is an echo of harmony, every spark a promise of immortality. The Elysian Star does not dwell in the sky: it inhabits it otherwise. It is threshold, it is refuge, it is haven. Whoever lifts their eyes toward it feels within their heart an unexpected peace, as though infinity itself were opening inside them. For this star does not speak of future or past. It whispers only: “You are eternal.” It teaches that light has no end, but changes dwelling, form, and dance. And so, before this painting, one understands that the Elysian Star is not above: it already keeps watch within us, like a sacred spark, a shard of heaven that nothing can extinguish.