Quintessence (816)

Incandescent foliage seems to burst forth at the center, like a vegetal flame splitting the shadow to reach the sky. Fiery orange rises, intertwined with deep greens and marine blues, like stems of light emerging from the earthly matrix. Each cell opens into multicolored alveoli, recalling the fragile skin of a petal or the membrane of a seed ready to bloom. Violet mingles with turquoise, yellow blazes within the darkness, creating a dance where opposites do not clash but fertilize one another. It reads like the story of a flamboyant germination, where raw matter allows itself to be crossed by a luminous breath—as if the Creator had blown into this canvas an impulse of eternal spring. Nothing is fixed: everything flows, intertwines, metamorphoses. The painting becomes a garden in expansion, a colorful song where each shade seeks its balance. In this interweaving of colors, one glimpses a promise: that of a world where shadow becomes soil, and where light always finds a way. And if beauty were nothing more than that fragile moment when the unexpected sprouts at the very heart of chaos?