Post 2

What can I say, I love flowers! my daily search for inspiration always seem to lead me towards natural, organic shapes and colors. I escape the city as often as I can to wander through woods and to climb cliffs, I love holidays in the county side, I still collect leafs in autumn, and brunches in spring; and when I can’t escape the city I love buying myself flowers and watch them bloom, follow their breath and moves through every day of their life. I feel time stops when I dive into their perfection. Is like sneaking into a micro cosmos of slow motion. I used to hide this joy of mine for years even from myself, as every time I’d remember my tutor from my master course back in Rome; he’d say flowers is not a good modern subject for painting. What can I say, I love flowers! my daily search for inspiration always seem to lead me towards natural, organic shapes and colors. I escape the city as often as I can to wander through woods and to climb cliffs, I love holidays in the county side, I still collect leafs in autumn, and brunches in spring; and when I can’t escape the city I love buying myself flowers and watch them bloom, follow their breath and moves through every day of their life. I feel time stops when I dive into their perfection. Is like sneaking into a micro cosmos of slow motion. I used to hide this joy of mine for years even from myself, as every time I’d remember my tutor from my master course back in Rome; he’d say flowers is not a good modern subject for painting.What can I say, I love flowers! my daily search for inspiration always seem to lead me towards natural, organic shapes and colors. I escape the city as often as I can to wander through woods and to climb cliffs, I love holidays in the county side, I still collect leafs in autumn, and brunches in spring; and when I can’t escape the city I love buying myself flowers and watch them bloom, follow their breath and moves through every day of their life. I feel time stops when I dive into their perfection. Is like sneaking into a micro cosmos of slow motion. I used to hide this joy of mine for years even from myself, as every time I’d remember my tutor from my master course back in Rome; he’d say flowers is not a good modern subject for painting.