I always thought of Gladiolas as funeral flowers until I took photos of them.

Maria brought some of the last gladiolas – their time is up – into my study to join my artistic chicken and scolding crow; it seemed they were all calling out to be to do good and be good and love my life.

I am, and I will, and I do. Leave me alone, muses; I’m working hard.

I loved the juxtaposition of the chicken, the crow, and the Gladiolas. They were all saying something.

Muses are important. They stir me up when I need it and leave me alone when I’m good and busy.