I’ve been doing a bit too much whinging about cold recently. Maybe I think it gives me more of a struggling thus unfairly unrecognised artist aura to mutter about numb fingertips.
Anyway, enough already. I’ve decided a colder-than-usual temperature is good for my health and wellbeing, and is great for tulips.
I love tulips. Perhaps not as much as Anna Pavord who wrote a whole book on them. But enough to keep trying to grow them and buy bunches of them even though they fall over and drop their petals within a matter of days.
Except, that is, when they are kept in arctic conditions. A couple of weeks ago, I bought two bunches of red tulips. One bunch for the kitchen at home, and one for my studio. The kitchen ones ended up in the bin a week ago. The studio ones still stand proud and tall and beautiful. I’ve never seen anything quite like it.
I’m now inspired to invest regularly in floral decor for the studio. Never mind my submerged landscape painter instincts. Maybe I’m secretly a still life painter.