It was in the 4th or 5th grade when I was taught how to carve a rose by my art teacher.
It was so many years of idolizing my deceased sister, Susan, her skill and love for so many flowers inlcuding the rose..I could only begin to imagine. It was the funeral I hated, with all those beautiful flowers including the roses that broke my heart.
She was right in front of me, my sister Crystal, I wonder if she imagines a rose and what color?
It is for may teenage daughter, Alex, that imagination and roses now begin new memories..
It is for my neice, Santina, who I wish a rose ! She never speaks of them..
And it is for my mother, Sharon, who gave us the hope of imagination. We always remember Mother's Day.
My first taste of long stem roses were a borrowed set from a husband and wife which I photographed and sent to a boyfriend to admire on Thanksgiving..It's the crystal vase I remember. Why?
The long stem roses I received from a lover always wilted, maybe it was the cold air.
Roses are beautiful, but there are awkward moments in my life of memories to overcome. I think this is the moment to relive the imagination of a rose....
Lately, when I think of a rose. I think passionately of the word LOVE. It has to be without pride to shed lies and deeply invent integrity & honesty to understand why it exsits..
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