I’ve never been a big fan of still lifes/lives. They’re fine to do, say, if you’re stuck in an attic in Paris in a snowstorm – and flowers especially do have a simple happy zen sort of feel to them – but, generally, they just don’t talk to me.

But I tried this one recently, in part to celebrate spring (ie when we enjoy tulips and blossoms for a whole week before they get flattened by the October winds).

And I’m pleased with the result – the composition, the brushwork and the sgriffito (scratching back). It’s not going to hang in the Louvre but it might look nice in the kitchen.

Sold privately 2019. 12″x 12″ in oils.


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