I must have flowers, always, and always.
When I was a kid my parents had a "bar refrigerator" in the basement, right next to the carpet and vinyl padded cocktail bar. Yes, it was the 70's. This fridge was bright yellow and covered entirely in large fluorescent flower stickers. I thought it was fabulous.
Flowers were a part of my childhood. As far back as I can remember my Swedish father would go for a walk, and always return with a single flower. Always one. He would float his precious find in a a crystal bowl on the kitchen table. Quietly, without comment. A simple act in appreciation of beauty. Roses, pansies, dandelions. All were given equal respect and admiration.
My need to paint flowers is real. If this comes from you, Dad, I thank you.
Oh, and Dad, if you cannot identify one of my flowers please don't be alarmed. The soul, emotion, and beauty that you helped me to find is all there, but perhaps a bit abstracted. Happy Father's Day to my dad and to all the fathers out there both living and remembered who have given us so much.