Please help me know that the fruit language of your
biog is the changing of nature to the bloom of
seedlings, the bright colours
of blossom and handiwork of the stamen etc. The
land is full to the seasons, the spring and summer
to the growth and nurturing
of the fine, the loved and endearing fruit of nature.
Our eyes on nature, our eyes on ourselves as
reflectors of our environment. I, as a man, look to a
woman to bloom.
The manufacture of Art Work to prove that point
brought about the making of Caravaggio and the
Still life, full of the bearing
of fruit. Indeed the Dutch, ever so resourceful as
the bankers to the world of carriage and business
around the globe, were the
ilk of the 16 century. The linen hence bought, the
perfection of tulips celebrated. Here was an age of
glorified love for finery. Perhaps,
with the decay of an empire close behind it, to
England no less. The dutch were a victim of the
blooming wonder of nature. Theirs and
the softening touches of luxury.
The Brits took over only to find the myths too great
to uphold after war. Our fragile natures, only too
evident in these the beginning of a new
government, our confidence - a lame myth that no
words will cover up. We seeking to re-generate to
the fruits of our endeavours.
Good luck to you, a representative of our age.
