I could hardly let this day go by without a quick watercolor of peonies from "my," yes, "MY" front yard. You see, I haven't had a yard of my own for nearly a decade and these are a glorious celebration for me in many ways. I'm just so thankful that the previous owner planted so many. When you walk by them, you think someone sprayed a little too much perfume. Or if you enter a room where I've put a few in vases you might ask who lit a candle. How I wish there was a scratch and sniff link so you could smell them. Then this past weekend I picked a little miniature bouquet. Again, it was nice to pick them from my very own garden. Nearly 8 years ago when I first moved to Southern California I was blown away by the flowers - all the time and everywhere. So many people with yards and flowers that seemed to take over. Did these people know what they had? You really don't understand and appreciate flowers until they're gone or you have to experience winter again. Though I don't love winter, I do think it's a necessary part of really feeling grateful and thankful for Spring. Anyway, late at night I would wonder my California neighborhood and well, um, yeah, steal flowers.... I know its wasn't exactly up and up. But some how I justified it by saying the rose bush really did need a pruning and at times I really felt my sanity was at stake when I first moved to Los Angeles - alone, single, unsure of what my future held. Today my friend Judy said that my Peonies were hope. Yes, flowers do remind us of hope and I think that's why I paint them constantly and never grow tired of them. We need hope as much as we need flowers.