He is a musician, and his song is flowers.
“Who does he sing to?” you wonder.
To each woman he meets.
For when he sees her he does not see her age or beauty. Instead he sees the secret garden in her heart, the inner flowers that have wilted, the ones that have yet to grow. He enters with reverence and sings his songs of understanding and wisdom—of love—and he watches her bloom.
Oil on canvas.
30' x 40"
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