A flower with no backstory

I’ve been a bit slow with my painting recently. This is because I’ve been grappling with an unsuccessful painting that I’ve now abandoned. Stupid painting.

The painting had all the elements to make it a successful painting: an ornamental plum tree delightfully festooned with abundant bubblegum pink blossoms set against a clear blue sky. The tree contrasted nicely in its delicate, spring fragility with the battleship grey stolidness of the street. And, thanks to a very wet for Canberra Spring, a foreground of lush global warming style tropical green grass.

I also had the backstory worked out – ancient childhood memories of eating those sour little purple nuggets, which was going to lead seamlessly into a recent story of my own children’s childhood memories, social media, the community of people who suck seatbelts and accusations of ‘mumsplaining’. Oh well, another time.

To recover from the indignity of a painting gone wrong (I just couldn’t stop the painting veering towards very twee Japanese Cherry Blossom), I thought I would paint something simple. A flower, with no backstory, except that I’ve never painted a flower before.