Friday, August 3, 2012

Pinterest Fridays: glorious peonies

As I mentioned last week, on Fridays I will feature something on Pinterest that I think will be of interest to you. 

This week: PEONIES

peonies on the porch, oil on canvas, 12 x 12 inches.  ©2010 Kristina Wentzell
this painting is available for purchase

The most extravagant and luscious of all flowers--blooming in spring, they seem to be our reward for making it through another cold, northern winter.

My grandfather (known as Kippy to us grandkids) grew peonies in shades of white, pink and the deepest fuschia in his wonderful garden.  By the time I came around, the peonies must have been at least 50 years old.  I remember standing in the middle of his garden, surrounded by masses of peonies and burying my face in the soft petals and drinking in their delicate perfume.  Transported, I was lost in a giant sea of pastel blossoms, their flowers the size of my little face.

Fast forward a few years, and I still feel that childlike bliss when I walk out into my own garden when the peonies are blooming. Be sure to read Mary Oliver's poem about peonies at the bottom.


Kippy's peonies, oil on canvas, 8 x 8 inches. ©2010 Kristina Wentzell SOLD


This weeks's Pinterest board is an ode to Kippy's peonies with all of my peony paintings through the years,  a few favorites from other artists (be sure to check out the painting by Ovanes Berberian), gorgeous photographs, a peony craft project, and some gardening tips.

See it all here.


peonies in a white pitcher,  oil on canvas, 8 x 8 inches.  ©2012 Kristina Wentzell
this painting is available for purchase here


 
I'll leave you with a poem by Mary Oliver.

Peonies

This morning the green fists of the peonies are getting ready
to break my heart
as the sun rises,
as the sun strokes them with his old, buttery fingers
and they open —
pools of lace,
white and pink —
and all day the black ants climb over them,
boring their deep and mysterious holes
into the curls,
craving the sweet sap,
taking it away
to their dark, underground cities —
and all day
under the shifty wind,
as in a dance to the great wedding,
the flowers bend their bright bodies,
and tip their fragrance to the air,
and rise,
their red stems holding
all that dampness and recklessness
gladly and lightly,
and there it is again —
beauty the brave, the exemplary,
blazing open.
Do you love this world?
Do you cherish your humble and silky life?
Do you adore the green grass, with its terror beneath?
Do you also hurry, half-dressed and barefoot, into the garden,
and softly,
and exclaiming of their dearness,
fill your arms with the white and pink flowers,
with their honeyed heaviness, their lush trembling,
their eagerness
to be wild and perfect for a moment, before they are
nothing, forever?

-Mary Oliver


peonies, oil on canavs, 8 x 8 inches.  ©2012 Kristina Wentzell SOLD





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