Flora of formosa

B612 fig. 3 (2024) presents a framed view of the cosmos. Within this universe, a rose branch appears in reversed white, while beside it, the very rose-shaped paper with a part of cosmos on it, is held in place by slender strips of masking tape. If one were to gently put that blossom back to the cosmic scene, it would merge seamlessly, dissolving into boundlessness—an echo of the line in Le Petit Prince, “What is essential is invisible to the eye.”

At the end of the story, when the Little Prince bids farewell to the Pilot, he says: “I shall be living on one of the stars, I shall be laughing on one of the stars. And so, when you look at the sky at night, it will be as if all the stars are laughing… You—only you—will have stars that can laugh!”

In the starlit sky of B612 fig. 3, the rose branch and its half-transparent, half-fallen petals are forms born of the void, given contour by someone’s daily gaze. Or perhaps it could be said that longing has been granted a shape—carefully cupped in one’s hands, placed onto paper, and fastened in place, preserved as a specimen for eternity. And this form, like the rose on B612, is singular and irreplaceable to the Little Prince.