A moment of grace suspended in time, if not in our hearts. Like a still, soaring
entrechat, a star in perpetual ascent along the curve of a lobe. On the edge of her
clematis, symbol of enduring love, the flamboyant dancer climbs to the summits in an
eternal, passionate flight. As delicate and beautiful as a petal in the wind or a flame in
the evening. Her little sister, meanwhile, has donned a deep black for her bewitching
ballet. She twirls around a sphere of dark mother-of-pearl, a small iridescent suit
of armor that has stood the test of time. Is it to protect her heart, shrouding it in
mystery, or to play a trick on us? That is the magnificence of the dancer and her
ambivalence. Like mother-of-pearl, she walks a tightrope between the fragility and
strength of her alloy. She adorns herself with the full spectrum of light, which she
captures so well, only to confuse our senses.