I love flowers and gardens, and this is because of my mother. I remember her tending the snapdragons, pansies, and most of all the roses, of every color, in her Los Angeles garden. And I was intimate with those flowers! I used to talk to them, like Alice did in Wonderland. I swung over them on my swing. I breathed in their perfume. I lay under the fuchsia bush and watched the hummingbirds spin over my head. Butterflies filled the turquoise sky, the same color as my mother's eyes. And deeply blue and purple morning glories climbed the fence. This painting is a memory. A memory of a little girl who loved her mother and the flowers she brought into my life.
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