I created this piece in 2023, and today I find myself returning to it—curious about why it still speaks to me. There’s something about painting the quiet things that continues to feel necessary, even sacred.

A simple bunch of wildflowers can stir memories of time spent in nature, and the quiet, gentle surprises it offers. I’ve always felt drawn to glass jars—those everyday vessels, always available, always ready to hold something delicate and beautiful. In this case, a spontaneous gathering of wildflowers I picked during a walk in the woods near my home.

Resting them on a table changes everything. It doesn’t take much—just awareness. The horizontal lines in the glass remind me of a vintage juice glass, unpretentious and familiar. The color pairing of violet and green arrived effortlessly, as though the palette organized itself. I didn’t have to plan it. Nature handed it to me.

Behind the flowers, a backdrop of geometric shapes—like stained glass panes—gives the sense of windows open to air, light, and sky. They represent freedom and perspective, elements I need to stay connected to. The flowers, delicate as they are, bring the outside in, as if to remind me I don’t always have to go far to find beauty. It’s already here.

In the lower half of the painting, a strip of patterned cloth carries echoes of the natural world—wildflower motifs woven into golden yellow and orange sections, sprinkled with bits of blue. It feels like nature reimagined into textile, something you can touch, hold, and keep—even as the seasons change.

The vertical presence of the vase has its own assertiveness—maybe even a subtle confrontation. It’s anchored in a turquoise-blue glass plate, as fragile and luminous as the flowers it supports. It allows us to see through it, to the intersecting lines of cloth and shadow beneath—none more important than the next.

There’s a longing here—to sip wildflowers, to drink them in fully. They are so available, so finely formed, and can shift the feeling of a space in an instant. That kind of magic stays with me.

The flowers offer an invitation to pause, to notice, to breathe in the moment—and not let it vanish from the heart.

I found myself searching today for a pencil sketch I did over a decade ago, sitting at a kitchen table in Maine with a glass of wildflowers in front of me. I can still feel that morning. I know the drawing is here somewhere. I just can’t find it, and it hurts. I know I wouldn’t have thrown it away.

There’s a story here—a thread that runs through my relationship with wildflowers, kitchens, quiet gathering, and nurturing. It stretches over years and continues to stir something deep in my soul. Maybe that thread is the art.

If this painting speaks to you, please reach out with any thoughts or questions. I’d love to hear from you. Catherine

Categories: Flowers, Nature, Original oil paintings, Still LifeTags: art, art for sale, art with meaning, beauty in the everyday, contemporary art, creative process, creativity, floral paintings, inspiration, oil paintings, painting, pencil drawings, visual story telling, wildflowers, writing