We came across her like anyone would when you move to a new street in a new town in a new-to-you part of the province; unannounced. She just showed up one morning in her smart green jacket with the sleek lines, her small finger tips reaching up toward the warm spring sunshine in our backyard. She is a quiet visitor. Not much of an eater but a fairly heavy drinker. She listens patiently to my tuneless humming while I work around her. She doesn't get shy when I break out my paints and paper and stare at her intently, trying to capture the delicate features of her face. She just stands quietly in the middle of the garden, the birds gleaning edible treasures under her delicate skirts, the bees hovering around her beautiful, pale face. Then as quickly (or seemingly) as she showed up, she disappears leaving behind her lovely green jacket. She's very trusting to leave such a lovely frock for me to care for until she comes back next spring. She doesn't seem the least bit concerned I'm going to wreck it or lose it. Kind of like leaving a post-it note on a door or mirror that says 'be right back'. Her visits are too short, but highly anticipated now. It's always nice to see iris in the garden.

yellow iris,  mixed media on canvas, 30x30(in), $1575 + GST,  2018

yellow iris, mixed media on canvas, 30x30(in), $1575 + GST, 2018

I know I said I wasn't sharing any new work until Whyte Avenue Artwalk next month, but then the large painting of the umbrellas hanging over the shopping street in Bath sold, so I am bringing this painting to fill the now empty wall at Under The High Wheel in Edmonton this weekend. I snipped the last of the spent blooms from our yellow iris this morning. It was kind of sad, but their glorious memory lives on.

Until her next visit...