It's not a sacred moment frozen in time, but a contained explosion of bodies, gestures, and presences. The scene has been torn apart: figures float in a deep blue, as if the painting were struggling between faith and fracture.
All the characters seem suspended in a place where the spiritual coexists with the animal, where ecstasy and effort merge. The light doesn't descend: it spreads out in shreds among the forms.
There's no center, there's dispersion. And yet, something is born. Perhaps not a god...
