Two Winter Peonies
Two Winter Peonies, 2020
My grandmother lived in Brighton, two blocks from the beach. Every summer we would make our weekly trip to her house. We didn’t use sun block then, and seat belts were not in the car my parents drove me and my brother in. But my grandmother’s house was my safe place, nonetheless. We had delicious knishes for lunch that we bought on the boardwalk, and ice-cream from the ice-cream man on the hot, crowded beach. Every time I saw him, I asked for a piece of dry ice. I still remember my amazement that ice could feel hot, as it stung my little hands. We trekked back to grandma’s, full of sand and sunburn. It was my job to clip some peonies from her backyard to grace our dinner table, a job I cherished. I whispered secrets to the peonies as I carefully cut them. And as I placed my bouquet in the vase, it whispered back to everyone at grandma’s table.
Prints are signed and printed using archival pigment Inks on imported fine art cotton rag velvet paper. No border, full-bleed.
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