Not all images work with this approach … but I think this one is well-suited. Regardless of the subject matter, my objective is to employ a technique that evokes a feeling of serenity … of calm.
Our hollyhock blooms are mostly gone now. Between the wind and the heat they got beat up fairly early this year. We have white, pink, purple and dark purple. All are descendants of seeds from my wife's grandmother's flowers.
Your comment, Steve, evokes an interesting thought. That is to say that preserving and planting the seeds from your grandmother's garden constitutes an extension, a continuance, of her life within your physical sight, and thereby in your memories. When I think of my grandmother, other than how much I used to love to eat the cookies she baked for me, I think of the peonies in her garden. I spent much time as a youngster fascinated by the way the ants crawled up and down the flower stalks. Had I had a thought similar to what you have said I would have taken seeds from them and planted them in my gardens, and on seeing them would have brought fond memories of those past times.
All are descendants of seeds from my wife's grandmother's flowers.
I doubt that many people have ever considered how deeply a personal and spiritual act constitutes!
I save seeds from flowers I grow … no lineage like who have described … but some 25 years ago, my daughter and I planted daisies in our back yard, and, being perennials, their successive generations as well as new clusters from their seeds … spring up.
What you noted, Steve, is a most special phenomenon … thank you for sharing the details.
Not all images work with this approach … but I think this one is well-suited. Regardless of the subject matter, my objective is to employ a technique that evokes a feeling of serenity … of calm.
Calm? I must be perverted, because to me it looks sexual. LOL
Calm? I must be perverted, because to me it looks sexual. LOL
Well, it is the plant's reproductive structure … possibly, post-orgasm, you'll experience the calm …
Buzz are you dreaming of days long gone.....
Mac, your photo does bring on a calming feeling.
"Buzz are you dreaming of days long gone.....
"
Yeah, well, at MY age - of course I never did it with a flower. I'm not THAT perverted. LOL
But I thought that at one time you were a flower child...Woodstock and all that...LOL
I actually planned on going to Woodstock, but I'm glad I never did it.
We better get back on topic or Mac will stick that flower where the sun doesn't shine, Buzz.
Good night … more erotica tomorrow.
Oh good, naked birds and exposed flowers...Sweet.
Definitely belongs on a greeting card....beautiful!!
That is absolutely gorgeous.
Our hollyhock blooms are mostly gone now. Between the wind and the heat they got beat up fairly early this year. We have white, pink, purple and dark purple. All are descendants of seeds from my wife's grandmother's flowers.
Your comment, Steve, evokes an interesting thought. That is to say that preserving and planting the seeds from your grandmother's garden constitutes an extension, a continuance, of her life within your physical sight, and thereby in your memories. When I think of my grandmother, other than how much I used to love to eat the cookies she baked for me, I think of the peonies in her garden. I spent much time as a youngster fascinated by the way the ants crawled up and down the flower stalks. Had I had a thought similar to what you have said I would have taken seeds from them and planted them in my gardens, and on seeing them would have brought fond memories of those past times.
All are descendants of seeds from my wife's grandmother's flowers.
I doubt that many people have ever considered how deeply a personal and spiritual act constitutes!
I save seeds from flowers I grow … no lineage like who have described … but some 25 years ago, my daughter and I planted daisies in our back yard, and, being perennials, their successive generations as well as new clusters from their seeds … spring up.
What you noted, Steve, is a most special phenomenon … thank you for sharing the details.