…what do you see?
Hopefully, it will be:
This lily is part of a bunch of flowers that my parents gave me last November, for Thanksgiving. They have been hanging and drying – like a ripe salmon – in my living room since the day after that iconic dinner.
Many people say that there is more to be read in an aged face than in a smooth one. I don't particularly agree – a person's library of stories is more internal, than external. One's skin isn't always that expressive.
But I find much beauty in tired, wrinkled flowers. And so I draw them.