The world of tomorrow could be described as a work of anticipatory painting. Indeed, in this large-format piece, I have attempted to project what our world might look like in a not-so-distant future, unfortunately. The city as such has vanished; all that remains is a labyrinthine skeleton, evoked by the interweaving of pipes and cables— a new forest of metal, cold and austere, where nature, in its most elemental form, sometimes seems to reclaim its rights. Below, an improbable new humus on which little, if anything, can grow, piles of waste of all kinds accumulate, presenting the eye with an indescribable jumble. It is in this terrible environment that the disenchanted fate of a dispossessed humanity unfolds, under the mocking gaze of a few rats that seem to be the only ones thriving here. The Fates, scissors in hand, stand ready under the pale light of a few neon signs. But since this work is titled "The World of Tomorrow" and not "The World of Today," an urgent message is thus conveyed to us, where hope is not yet definitively condemned.