I have a still life going, but I can’t show it here yet. These flowers are very shy, too shy to expose to light. They are shade-loving flowers. I make a grisaille of them using only black, white and Naples yellow. Later there will be colors. But I begin with a drawing-in-paint. It’s a bit like this pencil drawing above, which I copied from Jan Bruegal — like this in hints of gold and silver though my flowers have an entirely different personality.
The flowers are an alter-ego. They symbolize the way of being in the center of one’s own life, and having put oneself into a vase, watered one’s feet, having sought nourishment from air, from gravity’s pull, from the sun, from the rain washing over one’s face. You put yourself into a kind of stance, a spot, that frankly says “this is me.” That part, though very strange to admit, is necessary for being human — this having to confront the world with this identity that each one has. Here I am. I am on display (somewhat) but more mysterious than anyone ever knows. Mystery to oneself as well. And each one is thus ….