Today’s photo is a little shot in the arm for all of us craving color, beauty, and, well, spring.
I found such a lovely poem – “Tulips” by A. E. Stallings – that really captures the essence of the flowers’ fleeting beauty:
Something about the way they twist
As if to catch the last applause,
And drink the moment through long straws,
And how, tomorrow, they’ll be missed.
Here’s to drinking the moment.
I always thought I wanted to be a painter. The colors and the physicality and the mess of it all. In Art History, I loved studying the painters best of all. But, if I was a painter, I think it would break my heart to sell my work, like handing off one of my children or trading on a precious memory. I’m glad my medium is reproducible. Still, I’ll take any excuse to hold a paint brush…
102/365: red paintbrush
If you’re in the mood, check out the poem, “Why I Am Not A Painter” my second-favorite poem by Frank O’Hara. It has nothing to do with why I am not a painter, but it’s a good poem. My favorite Frank O’Hara poem is “Having a Coke With You“. It’s really good.