Song of Rose ~ 2
24.12.2010 § 1 Comment
part 2 : there is beauty in withered flowers…
I remember going for extra lessons of drawing at one of our renowned professor’s private studio during college. Private lesson students shared the same studio with him. He’d always have a vase of roses on the still life table. He grew the roses in his own garden in a semi-tropical climate so he was never short of them. He would paint them over and over again for thirty years, never tiring of them. He lived like a hermit, content with painting his roses, I was told his roses had profound beauties but I could not comprehend what it meant with my youth eyes, even if I stared at the painting for a long time. Sometimes his roses were withered, I’d ask him “these flowers are already withered; how come you still paint them?” He’d said “there is beauty in withered flowers.”
The roses are still blooming this morning, the petals slightly dry from the heat as if a beauty in her forties, still beautiful but showing signs of decline. It would require a husband like my painting teacher to allow the beauty to age like the withered rose.