The Sweetness of Spring
Little did I know when this series began how painful it could be. We’re not quite doing parties yet, so when my son turned five, one third of the cake-eating responsibility fell on my shoulders. It hurt, but you do what you have to do for art and family. This newest monthly miniature, a carrot cake still life celebrates my son’s March birthday and the first blossoms of spring. Isaac has had a carrot cake for all five of his birthdays. This year’s cake started out as rendered here, but once photographed, all evidence of nuts was removed and replaced by dinosaurs and a volcano.
The daffodils come from our garden. The happy sign of warming weather was more welcome than ever this year. This is my third year of still life miniatures and each March has brought a new daffodil painting. I’ve shared my favorite poem by Wordsworth, which is about daffodils, for the past two years. You can find it again this year it at the bottom of this post, and I hope you enjoy it.
When designing the composition, I first just had the cake and flowers and even more insects. For the theme of creature comforts, though, less insects and more wine seemed appropriate. It has been a long year and a short year. It has been a strange year, but brighter days are coming. So for today, let your heart fill with pleasure and dance with the daffodils. And maybe even induldge in some cake.
I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud
By William Wordsworth
I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o’er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company:
I gazed—and gazed—but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:
For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.
