Flower Show Dreams

Right around this time of the year, my heart starts stirring for something green and colorful, while my nose searches for the perfume that only a flower in full bloom can produce. Supermarket finds of daffodils and hyacinths appease the restless yearning, but they are temporary and fleeting fixes, and the forced nature of their blooming results in an inferior product. Nothing can match the simple majesty of a bulb blossom culled in natural time from the ground up, fed by melting snow and the first warm spring breeze. Still, they are better than nothing, and will have to do until the flower shows start opening in a month or two.

For this featured photo, I present a wall hanging found on a holiday jaunt through Saratoga. In the back of some gift shop, it caught the light and drew all eyes towards its colorful composition in multi-dimensional form. If you can put the dirty snow and smell of cold exhaust from your mind, if you can push away the scent of wet wool and rubber soles drying over radiators, you can picture the fields of flowers that may have inspired this piece.

The beauty of art – even in its simplest and most raw form – is that it can take you out of the depths of winter. On the day before the last day of January, I can’t think of anything more powerful than that.

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