An abstract bouquet pulled upward, as if the room itself were lifting. Lilies opening on a single tall stem, painted in oxidized turquoise that runs the length of the canvas like a vein of copper through clay. The ground is dawn-coloured — terracotta, coral, sage, ash-rose — wet enough to drip, warm enough to hold.

Where Le Deuil des Iris mourned, this one breathes. The whites here are not bandages; they are linen and morning light. The drips fall as condensation rather than blood. A small dark form at the base — the only black mark on the canvas — anchors the lift, the way a hand at the small of the back lets a body stand taller.

A vertical nocturne turned dawn. The dawn-companion to Le Deuil des Iris in the same 2026 collection — abstraction working as botany, gesture working as architecture.