The artist searches for a flower that is not there in the darkness, and when he finds it, he brings it
to the light of creation. But the artist is a man, immersed in Time, and not even the artist's table
has the power to escape it.
All is vanity in the presence of Time: Art and Life, which find representation in the banquet. Set for
two, in a succession of seasons in which Time creates and destroys everything.
The transparent glass, works through lampworking, takes on the appearance of crystal in spring,
transporting us into a dreamlike atmosphere where images of evanescent beauty take shape. It
finds roundness and maturity in the tulip vases. It collapses into the indefiniteness of forms and
the silence of candles in the autumn of fortune.

The contemporary realization of the desere is a triumph of sculptures adorning the table at which
we meet, and a metaphor for the transitory nature of relationships, fame, and life, which Time
endlessly nourishes and destroys.
The dance of light and insects follows the intensity of the creative season: where once there were
bees, bumblebees, and butterflies, flies nest. The snowdrop, with its promises of integrity and
purity, fades into the image of deflowered corollas and bent, bare stems, amidst the dripping wax
and extinguished fires.
A floral riot pierced by the sentence of Time. All is vanity.