One morning I was there and a woman just started piling bouquets into her basket, prompting me to ask her if she was a florist. “Yes” she said, confirming my belief that this was indeed the best place to buy flowers.But that is not the point of my story…………..There is a very small window of time where peonies are available, so I made sure I bought a couple of bunches as soon as I could. That very same day I went to my studio and photographed these deep pink flowers as they slowly opened up.
I was pretty excited, but not as excited as I was a couple of days later when I walked in and found this:
The flowers had not only opened up (exploded was more like it), but they had changed colors to a beautiful pale pink. A few hours later I had more images to edit. I usually print an image to work on during our monthly Second Saturday open studio event, so in June I had this piece on my easel.
I usually print an image to work on during our monthly Second Saturday open studio event, so in June I had this piece on my easel.
©2010 Dianne Poinski
I had a delightful conversation with a man who had come to view the show in the main gallery and wandered into my studio while waiting for the doors downstairs to open. He explained that he had been asked to write a poem for a dear friend that had passed away. Her favorite flower was a peony and he had referenced that flower in the poem. If I was interested, he would send me a copy. I was touched that he was willing to share that with me and I looked forward to receiving it.A few days later an envelope arrived and in it was not only the poem for his friend, but one he wrote the next day with the note: “Dianne: Your use of color inspired the poem.”Believing that art is meant to be shared, here is the poem (in the thank you card I sent, I did mentioned that I would be sharing this):
Pastels & Life
Waiting for an image to appear and disappear: and to dissipate into a pebble of snow,into a vacuum of space (like a wind swollen with glare).
Waiting for the horizon, and for eternity’s light to dissolve the cries of violence and forlorn anticipations.And for words like the peony flower, to decorate the history of time, so that the palm can stretch beyond it’s fingertips and design a meticulous yawn, coloring the sheen of your hair.Rudy Gallardo; 6-13-10.
I will always think of this poem whenever I view these images, and am truly inspired and grateful for that serendipitous encounter. Art inspiring art! Love it when that happens!