Since all I’ve posted lately are invitations to my art fairs, I thought I’d share a little something pretty for your Friday pleasure. It’s a new picture made from something I shot some time ago and it will be one of my first vintage-framed prints (available tomorrow).
There is something sad about silk flowers. They are always dusty. And so earnest in their realism, heartbreakingly true in every detail save the one that matters most.
Yet, I am drawn to this arrangement. Like some distant memory. Like the smell of sunlight as it streams through the window and lights up the dust like diamonds. Like anything (or anyone) who tried to be grand but missed the mark.