This is a pretty big painting. I started it before the apocalypse. I finished it during. There’s a lot going on in this bouquet from big hearty blooms to little dainty ones to not even flowers at all (can you spot the lemons?).
I came across this little cartoon the other day, it really spoke to me. I’ve always been a bit of a late bloomer, taking to new tasks or skills slowly and with great effort. It took me 30+ years to really come out of my shell, something I’m still learning how to do. And I still feel, from time to time, envy creeping up on me– comparison making a stealthy pick pocket of my joy.
Back when school was still a building you could go to, my son asked me not to pack him the dates and black bean burgers he so loves in his lunch because the other kids would tease him. I don’t know how many times we’ve had that conversation about not worrying about others. Doing you. Loving yourself. But still I get his insecurity and I try to compromise– apple slices, ham on wheat.
I love the idea of seeing people as different kinds of flowers in different stages of blooming, and I’m trying to hold fast to that image so that when jealousy knocks, I’m ready to shoo it away.