There is a moment.
Then it disappears.

The May rose reveals itself only for a few days each year.
A rare balance. A fleeting presence.

We do not transform it.
We follow it.

From field to atelier,
each gesture is reduced to the essential.

To preserve.
To approach.
To capture.

CO₂ becomes a passage,
not an intervention.

Nothing is added.
Nothing is taken away.

Only the essence,
in its most accurate form.

A rose, intact.

Diane H.