My local florist sells cherry blossom boughs in early spring. I bought one, and brought it into my studio. The branch, plopped in a bucket of water, stood patiently while I placed different color swatches behind it, "feeling" for the right match. The pink flowerets seemed to sing when I put the turquoise cloth behind them, and that, of course, was the tell.
Painting nature indoors is a curious thing. Without the elements, I could explore the details of the leaves and bark and buds almost leisurely, and at eye level, which was very sweet. But at times, especially as it started to die, the cherry branch seemed painfully out of her element. I realize now, that it was the turquoise cloth which echoed an open, free sky that helped soften the story of this wild beauty, held captive inside the walls of my studio.
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