Interrogative No 9

Yep.... etched forms again, craftily masked like a Venetian carnival reveller. The glass is still in the process of shaping, but is already cooling on the surface, revealing the deep blues and browns and golds and reds. The heart is still burning its bright yellow, though, and I start to glimpse the helicoïdal shape, very soft, something like a multicolored, translucid ammonite, turned to pure colour and light by the passing of time, its age ascertained by the thin membranes of the regular growth compartments.
An answer among others to the interrogation of 'what'...