Wire mesh and porcelain. H. 2,20 m

She's there, immense, her arms raised,
Blue and white with her butterflies,
Jailed in wire, yet free

An airy woman, an idea.
Her veils protect or hide her
Is she Mary, a bride, a fairy?

She laughs at your craving desire,
She's transparency, liberty,
She flies away, you can't catch her.

A long time after you've left her
She follows you with her mysteries
And urges you to meditate on the frailty of Beauty.

Tall as an ancient caryatid
She holds the sky, opens her arms,
And salutes a magical spring