I did it out of plain lust with compromised joy. My joy was tackled by my knowledge of simple beauty as a sceptic motive in painting. And the flower as a primitive motif. I did it anyways. I stole these flowers for the fun of it. I crossed your fields with kilos of sticky colour. I read about plant blindness and felt convinced that decoration is an underestimated function fit for progressive propaganda. The advertising business gets this. Kilos of dead botanicals across your living room. Today I insist that it makes sense. To replicate, in paint. To please. As a way to remind or to connect. For you to care. That and what I stole.