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I don’t know exactly what it is about sunflowers that impresses so many of us. Perhaps is it how they move their heads, keening after the sun, in an eerily sentient way. Or maybe it’s how their powerful happy yellow can brighten anyone’s mood.
I have attempted many times to capture my fascination with sunflowers in a poor mimicry of the real thing. While a painting is not the same, it is something that brightens a wall no matter what the season.
Ah Sun-flower! weary of time,
Who countest the steps of the Sun:
Seeking after that sweet golden clime
Where the travellers journey is done.
Where the Youth pined away with desire,
And the pale Virgin shrouded in snow:
Arise from their graves and aspire,
Where my Sun-flower wishes to go.