Simply superb my friend well done Carol

Gorgeous!

Very beautiful.

lovely

Before I comment on this, I also want to say (re your "Woman in the Rose Gown," where I didn't say it): Bows to Brigitte and all she does; it was a beautiful dedi to her and her devotion and work. And a great way to honor her devotion and work. We hear her name a lot in your gallery; you've enshrined her grandly in your work. A wonderful tribute, Carol.

I knew of 'proliferation' at the cellular/molecular level, but hadn't heard the term with plants. But that's my ignorance (you'd be amazed what I don't know about plants!) Your poem beautifully evokes the rising-from-'ashes' of a dying flower; and the amazement of the new rose that comes out of it. Your painting has amazing colors: The bottom is luminous greens, but they're like flames: You made flames out of green leaves! And while you have shadow in them, you also have this bright deep light, like they've been lit for ages. You set off the greens---at their tops---with a section of darker hues---a really intuitive choice, as it separates one set of hues from another, the 'other' being the hues on the top of the painting: It lets the burst of pinks and oranges and yellows, on top, stand out all the more. You're very intuitive about such things---knowing when to break into a powerful section, and make a transition to another powerful section.

The strokes on the bottom are almost like brushed fleece. They're very visceral, touchable. (They could also be ruffled silk.) The strokes in the top half are very oil and watercolor-ish: There are washes there, but also the thick impasto of oil (I know this is all digital, but you sure create a physical painting feeling). And then, they're also like tufts of cotton. This is how you create whole textures with paint. And the rose on top leaves ghost-reflections around it, like rose-'echoes'---a beautiful choice, like the rose is so special, it makes the atmosphere around it dance and sing.

The lower, dying rose is painted without no intent to hide the strange, ruffled presence of decay. You give it directly. You painted its brittleness, its messiness, its leathery quality (in the dying leaf on the right), the way the petals furl-in on themselves (in the main flower on the left), in the faded colors, etc. This is just plain fine painting, Carol. Forget about everything else: It's just fine painting. And all that busy crumpled "stuff" at the top of the dying flower---the desiccated little petals and stamens, the prickly stuff that dried flowers leave in their wake: You don't spare us the strange discomfort of those. The reds/pinks are most intense there, as if mourning their lost flower.

The rose that rises out of that starts with dark hues (intensely painted), as if to bow to the decay below it; but then it emerges into radiant yellows tinged with pinks and reds. It's triumphant. And all painted with your sensual strokes, veins and undulations. And of course the background swirls around it, as if in celebration.

I really like that you don't feel the need to add a blazing sun to this (you see all those 'orbs' in my abstract art? that's just what they are: substitutes for just letting the rest of the art be; I don't have nearly the experience with art that you do). The top is doused, rather in deep yellows---rather than blazingly bright ones---and lots of oranges. It's an amber, fall-ish light; and as if the flower were blooming right into it. That light up there is also very "carol-ish": It's inner radiance as much as outer. Which is why bright blazing yellows aren't required: This is the bright-yellow of inner light, and so it has much deeper tones than mere sunlight.

A beautiful painting of transformation, with a very honest portrayal of decay and loss; and terrific light and brushwork; and a very inward feel and journey. Truly splendid work.

Mark, I'm so glad you liked my transformation painting and I enjoyed your comment so much. I am quite fascinated with the changes and transformations in flowers, as they mirror the changes in a human's life, only they happen much faster. I do think there is beauty in every stage and do find the withered petals beautiful in their own way. If only I could find the same beauty in my own withering. :o) As you so keenly observed in your comment, this is a joyful celebration of new life. I like that you like that I didn't use a sun. Now there's a sentence. I did try to give the feeling of the rose radiating the energy of the sun and the light in a more subtle way. Thanks so much for 'getting my art'. You always see deep inside my work, and that is so rewarding for me. You honor me with your observations, and inspire me to keep creating, my fiend.