The first rose of this year recently bloomed in my small garden and I had to take camera to the yard in order to share some of these images and words. Am sure some are thinking, “ old Stephen is a bit nuts about his roses and into his cup of gin again”. Fine, for this is true and would not have it any other way because of the joy found and seen in the first rose of spring as she flowers, then graces my eyes with a silent poetry, a visual affirmation that the artist is alive, well, and in tune with nature as much as one may be in the miracle of life in the all. Or something like that as one re creates images that capture moments the painter/poet desires to share.
There one may begin to understand my personal feeling for the first rose of spring, for there seems to be a light within the flower that displays an energy as if the rose gives light as well as takes light.
Though only a simple painter and sometimes bad poet there is a profound beauty in the fold of petals of the first rose of spring. As ever be well, Stephen Craig Rowe