How the metamorphoses of nature never comes to a halt. As in how a season announces itself in the previous one. How the miracle growth of plants and flowers can almost be observed as this gradual, everlasting mispassion corresponding to the painting: also the image “grows" as the flowers/plants to be painted, etc. change.

The aesthetics of melancholy is the fascination.

Especially in the case of representations of the visible. Only after the literal illustration, the first exact depiction, does the real thing happen: the illustration of what cannot be illustrated.