Song of Rose ~ 1
23.12.2010 § Leave a comment
part 1 : The roses bloomed beautifully…
A flower is a luxury. Although I can afford it, I feel guilty indulging myself with impractical things when there are people starving. The color of these roses stopped me at Cotsco when we were hauling food for the holiday party, “but this is holiday season,” so I bought a bunch of pink roses, a bunch of white roses, and some green chrysanthemums.
The roses bloomed beautifully; I tried to catch the beauty by sketching them in the evening. Halfheartedly sketching on a back of a used paper with an Office Max pencil while I was chatting with the family; I naturally would be disappointed with how it turned out. But the intention of capturing the indescribable beauty was still there. The second morning, I took pictures of them. I showed it to Shirley, she liked the chrysanthemums better. I liked the chrysanthemums too but the roses are amazing, no wonder they are so celebrated.
Not being privileged to be near beautiful roses for a while, I forgot how they are; their unique full and square butt, which is too subtle to capture perfectly when sketching them, and the quality of the flesh on the petals so tender and so smooth when it is sparkling fresh, the fleshiness that requires a master like Rembrandt or Monet to represent on a canvas, their half open petals would separately curl up on each side and form a sharp point on the tips, the sharp straight lines and points amongst soft, delicate, curvy lines make such a contrast, as if the dissonant tones, or a sword cutting through flowing water…
Woven-Words 
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