They are also reminders of my wife and our wedding. When we got married on the Victoria Day weekend in 1999, we chose irises to adorn the tables at our reception in the Railway Committee room in Centre Block on Parliament Hill. So, every time I see an iris I think back to that day and how much my wife, and our daughter, mean to me. I really don't know what I would do without her.
I have also over the years dabbled in learning how to draw. One exercise I have tried is drawing a flower. The first time out, I chose an iris. It turned out okay, but Vincent Van Gogh can rest easy in his grave, even if I had eternity to match his ability, I still couldn't come even close to his brilliance. Indeed this another reason I like irises. My daughter and I share a love of Vincent Van Gogh's work. We live in Ottawa, Ontario, home of Canada's National Gallery. One of the Van Goghs in the collection is his 1889 Iris, seen below.
For the last couple of years, I have been clearing out our excessively large backyard garden so I can sod it over. In the corner, though, grow some irises and I will be sure to keep those for all the memories they invoke in me.
Vincent van Gogh
62.2 x 48.3 cm
oil on thinned cardboard, mounted on canvas
National Gallery of Canada (no. 6294)