An "Only" Tulip

We have every year in our garden a single tulip that appears among a group of Daffodils. The former owner of our house had planted this section of the garden so I don't know the history behind the "only" tulip but there is something about its yearly appearance that strikes my fancy. It seems unconcerned about its solo life and has a defiantly intense magenta colour that stands

out brilliantly in the crowd of yellow and green around it. I began this painting of it about two years ago and then put it aside when other things were demanding my attention. It began with some lethargy on my part but I saw it behind some other canvases in my storage section and pulled it out last week. I needed a break from the intense concentration I have to find for my figurative works so it has become a sideline entertainment. No pressure to get it "right" or to have it finished by a deadline or thinking about its salable attributes - just fun and play. Yesterday a couple of my art group friends drove up the hour and a half from the Courtenay area to visit and work in my studio. This tulip seemed the perfect piece to work on, allowing me to socialize and

and experiment in an easy balance, and it fit the almost perfect day surrounding us, with sun, a few puffy clouds, soft breeze, and quiet chatter from birds and other wildlife in the nearby woods.

What a magical day we had, and a lingering lunch on the deck, which my hard working husband stopped to join. And there is a connection I didn't suspect at first with this "only" tulip - I am

an "only" child and sometimes have lamented that single state, but I've always managed to surround myself with lovely "daffodils" too, friends who are different and yet so much the same, a family of artists who manage to find each other, and "bloom where they're planted."