Vicki's Irises
When I lived in Isle-sur-la-Sorgue, I was experimenting with using the pigment from Iris petals when the dark purple flowers came to the end of their blossoming, for painting. And so it came to be that Vicki, a friend who lived in the village too and had a garden, offered me the last of her deep purple irises of the spring season. They are such majestic flowers and as much as I sometimes struggle with the act of picking a flower at the prime of its life, it brings me so much joy to have them in my home. I have become acutely aware of the flower’s life-span within a vase. There seems to be a build up to the peak of their blossom and then, suddenly, it becomes vividly noticeable that the life-force starts to wither.
When I have flowers in my home and my art materials set up, it feels like a crime to let the flowers bloom and then wither without attempting to capture the beauty and the joy they’ve shared with me.
This was the last day of life-force within Vicki’s deep purple Irises.
There’s something very special about spring in Provence and walking along forest trails lines with wild Irises. I know a few good spots if you’re ever in the area.
When I lived in Isle-sur-la-Sorgue, I was experimenting with using the pigment from Iris petals when the dark purple flowers came to the end of their blossoming, for painting. And so it came to be that Vicki, a friend who lived in the village too and had a garden, offered me the last of her deep purple irises of the spring season. They are such majestic flowers and as much as I sometimes struggle with the act of picking a flower at the prime of its life, it brings me so much joy to have them in my home. I have become acutely aware of the flower’s life-span within a vase. There seems to be a build up to the peak of their blossom and then, suddenly, it becomes vividly noticeable that the life-force starts to wither.
When I have flowers in my home and my art materials set up, it feels like a crime to let the flowers bloom and then wither without attempting to capture the beauty and the joy they’ve shared with me.
This was the last day of life-force within Vicki’s deep purple Irises.
There’s something very special about spring in Provence and walking along forest trails lines with wild Irises. I know a few good spots if you’re ever in the area.
When I lived in Isle-sur-la-Sorgue, I was experimenting with using the pigment from Iris petals when the dark purple flowers came to the end of their blossoming, for painting. And so it came to be that Vicki, a friend who lived in the village too and had a garden, offered me the last of her deep purple irises of the spring season. They are such majestic flowers and as much as I sometimes struggle with the act of picking a flower at the prime of its life, it brings me so much joy to have them in my home. I have become acutely aware of the flower’s life-span within a vase. There seems to be a build up to the peak of their blossom and then, suddenly, it becomes vividly noticeable that the life-force starts to wither.
When I have flowers in my home and my art materials set up, it feels like a crime to let the flowers bloom and then wither without attempting to capture the beauty and the joy they’ve shared with me.
This was the last day of life-force within Vicki’s deep purple Irises.
There’s something very special about spring in Provence and walking along forest trails lines with wild Irises. I know a few good spots if you’re ever in the area.
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