Crimson blossoms rise out of a cool, shifting field of blues, their forms suggested more by gesture than detail. The bright yellow drips that anchor each bloom feel like traces of movement—memories stretching downward, as if time itself has left its mark on the canvas. Rather than depicting a literal garden, the painting captures the sensation of one remembered: fleeting, luminous, and slightly out of reach.

Through loose brushwork and dissolving edges, the work invites viewers to experience flowers as impressions—moments of beauty held briefly before they fade. It becomes a quiet meditation on how color, emotion, and memory intertwine in the act of seeing, this is I view home.