Tuesday, 10 July 2007


I was thinking about the gardens of my childhood the other day and all the flowers we used to have, many of which have fallen out of fashion or are rarely seen now. One of the plants which always spelled summer to me as a little girl was the marigold. Or more properly marigolds, plural.

My mother loved flowers and we always had roses, supplemented with various other things according to the time of year. Marigolds - African, English, French - were a mainstay of her planting and I vividly remember the colour and smell of them, not a scent as such but rather a kind of green aroma they gave off. I tried to capture that essence in this piece, done with oil pastels on watercolour paper.


  1. Oooo, Frannie, I was in an art store this spring and stumbled across oil pastels, and you're right they were like butter when allowed to try them. I was so tempted but didn't know enough abotu them to spend the money. Do you have to use anything or and finish them with a fixative. I still think of them in the back of my mind...I've never felt something go on so rich.

  2. Awe. Beautiful piece!