Maybe because I was poor, there were no flowers where I lived. The first to bring me flowers was Bella. Then, in France ... One can reflect and think at length on the meaning of flowers, but for me they are Life itself in its luminous joy. It's not possible to do without flowers. Flowers can make you forget a dramatic moment, but they can also re-evoke it.
Marc Chagall, 1931
As we learned at the exhibition we saw the other day, Marc Chagall, who was born in a poor Jewish family in Belarus, only discovered flowers and rich colors when he moved to the Mediterranean. It was then that his art truly bloomed. What a wonderful journey through life Chagall had, following flowers and color in his art!
Driving back home through the cloudy, brown, bare, wintry landscape, all those luminous flowers and vibrant colors were still fresh in my mind's eye. Once I got home, I started searching out all the flowers in our house.
And as the flower mood continued, I baked some flower-shaped cookies, while reading Chagall's autobiography.
I think we can always discover flowers of one kind or another, even in the middle of winter.
