Spring is nigh...flowers are on our minds. The miracle of the blossoming fruit tree that, year after year, finds its way to tirelessly bloom again - is a reverie after long months of cold.
We went into Aix-en-Provence today to visit the flower market, which unfolds at the town hall square. The market swells and bears a new collection in each season. Right now, tulips multiply and irises are emerging. Such a delicate dance of beauty.
Fresh flowers bring a moment of contemplation, a deep inhale, a smile - even for a flagging soul. They are perhaps the most timeless source of inspiration - for painters, writers, lovers - perhaps the only subject more cosseted is love itself.
'With freedom, flowers, books, and the moon, who could not be perfectly happy?'
'I must have flowers, always, and always.'
“Flowers… are a proud assertion that a ray of beauty out values all the utilities in the world.”
– Ralph Waldo Emerson
'If you’re stuck in a painting, then stop and draw something else. Draw a flower and put your love into that flower. Then your powers will come back again.'
“who knows if the moon's
a balloon,coming out of a keen city
in the sky--filled with pretty people?
( and if you and I should
get into it,if they
should take me and take you into their balloon,
we'd go up higher with all the pretty people
than houses and steeples and clouds:
away and away sailing into a keen
city which nobody's ever visited,where
in love and flowers pick themselves”