You will never meet the artist who wields the paintbrush. She works by stealth, by night, in the soft warm spring twilights, and when you wake on bright mornings her work is ready, already there, laid out in front of you for your pleasure, no two blossoms alike.
Take this one. The delicate branching streaks of scarlet against the gold, glowing in the sunlight, a cup to sip the nectar of the Gods from. Feathered little brushstrokes tease out the red, ﬁ ner and ﬁner, until it melts away and becomes one with the dark yellow, something that if it were a shade darker you might have called ‘honey’. And it’s perfect in every ﬂaw, like every spring ﬂower is. And while you stop to hold your breath for a moment and admire it, she moves on, the artist, brush poised, frowning in concentration over the next work of art. Each hers, each never to be repeated, each unique and its own self. Not the same as the ﬂ ower that sprang from the same bulb the year before, nor the same as the one which will bloom the year after.
A painted tulip moment in time.
Image #3 will also be image+story in public viiew. After that, starting in April, I'll have the rest of the images out on the public posts - but their stories will be Patron-posts only... and take a look at the reward tiers. If you like any of these imagse become a patron at that level and you get the framed print of it. There is only one of each, so this goes so long as they are available...